Helen’s working week had been dismal; her new boss was an android void of all human need and honestly didn’t know how she had stopped herself from punching him between the eyes. Planning this evening had been her salvation; the fact it was Valentines added to the pleasure of it. Conjuring up a menu, thinking of drinking her favourite sparkling and chilled wine, on her own, by herself, had got her through, just!
Now in her mid thirties her signgalton life style was new and refreshingly liberating. Knowing coupledom was full of compromise and a large dose of gritted teeth, she’d decided not to bother with it. Any how dealing with one Man from Mars was enough for her. Her family and friends had tried very hard to arrange blind dates. She had got out of it so far but it was only a matter of time before her older sister had managed to trap her into one.
Her flat became her sanctuary, looking round her elegant comfort zone the week’s tense trauma floated away and a contented smile warmed her through. The table looked magnificent with the overpriced flowers plus vegetation an indulgence possibly too far but she was worth it. The smell from the kitchen surprised her, as long as it tasted as good as it smelt it was going to be a good night.
Three poodles sat on the sofa waiting to give all the love and comfort she needed, her date was loaded in the DVD and she was dressed not to thrill or impress but for comfort and frankly she looked ridiculous. Fluffy bootie slippers with pom poms, bright pink tiger stripped jersey pj bottoms with her favourite t-shirt and grey cashmere cardy. While applying makeup she had to laugh at her silliness. With her new glamorous necklace and earnings she felt a million dollars but looked like one of those figures where you change the face, torso and legs giving a hilarious effect.
As she took the cage off from the neck of the bottle to ease the cork out the phone rang.
‘Bloody hell’ sighing, picked up the phone, grappled with the bottle; still trying to open it, as her Sisters salutation hit her ears.
‘Deb I’m opening the bubbly and the door bells ringing now’! she stopped her sister in full flow ‘gotta go’ and put the phone down. Walking to the door she mentally marked up the score of avoidance.
Her left eyebrow raised as her shocked face set like a mask. The now open door revealed her boss. It was at this exact point; as they were both lost in their disbelief when the cork couldn’t restrain its self any longer. It flew out of the bottle and hit him straight in the eye. Psychologically she had been doing just that for a good couple of months and had to surprises a cheer.
As he lay on the sofa, her three dogs did their best to comfort him while his gruesome coloured eye enlarged at an alarming rate. She did her best to control it by administering frozen peas; while admiring the corks work. It was going to be a blinder of a black eye; possibly a week or more before he could see properly; that should slow him down a little, she contemplated while controlling the giggle that threatened to explode.
‘Sorry I should go; I can see you were getting ready to go out. Your sister said you desperately needed this.’ He held up a very exquisite black dress. How the hell did Deb know her boss? And it was most defiantly not her dress. Deb had won; the carpet was ripped from beneath her feet.
‘Oh I’m not going out’. The truth fell out of her mouth and an awkward silence ensued while Pier looked at her with his one good eye. The bemused stare was broken hastily by Helen running to rescue the lovingly prepared meal. As she entered the kitchen the cringe that had been building up inside her released itself. Her face contorted with horror as the earlier image of her reflection flashed through her mind, why! Oh why? had she not lied? Going out was her get out clause.
He coughed his announcement the shock made her jump and there it was; humour! Humour seeped from his one good eye and a laugh oozed from his mouth that rippled through the strained air and in spite of her resentment, Helen also erupted into a belly laugh Father Christmas would be proud of.
So there they found themselves, the oddball couple; he elegantly dressed with a bulbous crimson eye and she with the mismatched outfits sitting at a lavishly set table. There was no way he could drive with that eye and he too polite to just get up and leave after a home cooked meal. He would have to endure the girly movie she had put aside for to-night, with three poodles and her as his only company this was going to be a blind date from hell for him and for her Oh sweet, sweet revenge.
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