My day was rather shite if I'm honest. I've come to the conclusion that my landlord is a bully who seems to be used to people jumping at a flick of his finger. After a massive argument on the phone I went to Noah's shop in order to get some inner and outer cables for my bike in progress. The cycling did wonders, so did quickly jumping in when a customer popped by to get a last-minute present for his girlfriend: a bicycle. It needed some minor adjustments, like a basket and longer seat post, so I quickly did it while Noah frantically prepared another Christmas present for sale. Working on that bike cooled down the still hot ashes of my anger and reminded me why I'd become a bike mechanic: I love it. Give me tools and a project and I'm happy. I then came home and made myself something to eat before starting to write. It's a shorter bit today as I simply can't concentrate for the noise downstairs.
Although only short, my walk whetted my desire for more. I stopped for a brief moment and inhaled deeply; the air smelled fresh, crisp, healthy. Nothing compared to the smog in London, Witchurch even tasted clean. It didn't mean I'd wanted to move here—no, it was way too far from the Metropole for me; I needed to be able to leave the house and step into life. London had a lot to offer, but it was good to be away, if only to appreciate what I had back home: friends, family, and a wonderful place to live in. And at some point I'd go back to my job. They'd been nice enough to find someone to fill in for me until I was ready. John's life insurance took care of my well-being in the meantime. Money, an important necessity in our modern world, something we long for when we put career first. Once you've had a taste of real love, money doesn't matter so much anyone. That big sum I had at my disposal didn't make me laugh when I was down, it wouldn't gently kiss my neck when it hurt from sitting at the desk all day, it wouldn't surprise me, or take me in its comforting arms when I needed a hug. I'd give all my personal possessions away without even thinking if John would be the other choice.
There was the Inn again; I'd been so deeply in thoughts I hadn't even realised. About to open the door, I heard a sound and turned my head. A guy in a parka was just locking a bike with one of those massive chains. He didn't seem to have noticed me and, before it would get awkward, I hurried inside and upstairs. 'Just my luck', I muttered as I turned the key. Compared to the cold outside and after my brisk walk, it was hot inside. I felt my cheeks burning and took off my coat. Bang—it seemed as if I'd found the culprit. My boots flew across the room—each into a different direction—frustration vented. The kettle boiled, I settled back into my seat with a Lady Grey and enjoyed the other sandwich, before returning to the hospital where the three main characters had their very own challenges to deal with.
Almost two hours later, I stood downstairs in the guest kitchen waiting for my curry to heat up. In search of a plate, I opened one of the two cupboards and had to chuckle; this wild mix of mismatching plates and mugs reminded me very much of Amy's and my first house. We'd shared with five other people; I think Amy and I lived there the longest, our flatmates changed continuously, so did the content of the cupboards. I shook my head at that memory and pulled out a blue plate just when the microwave pinged.
'Smells delicious,' a youthful sounding voice said. I nodded without looking up as I was carefully transferring the food onto the plate.
'What is it? Curry?'
I inched forwards, did that man know the term 'personal space'? 'Do you mind?'
'All right, babe, keep your hair on.'
With him retreating a bit I grabbed my plate and turned to leave. You've got to be kidding me! I could see his expression change from smirk to recognition at the exact the moment it dawned on me who'd been intruding my privacy; without his parka and hat he almost looked boyish.
'So the lady who runs into roads without looking is a curry fan, eh?'
'Not sure why it's any of your business, but since you're bringing it up, maybe I could share what else I'm a fan of: peace and quiet, which includes doors being shut in a respectful manner.'
He nodded slowly. 'I'll keep that in mind.'
'Good.' Having said what I wanted to get off my chest I strode past him and back to my room. At least that would be sorted. I sat down to eat, watching a new documentary.