*** She breezed in on long legs and high heels, somehow slipping past and then leaving me standing at my own front door to gawp over one shoulder, stunned by the audacity. She was in my flat before I could stop her. I can’t explain just how she managed it, some kind of sleight-of-hand Houdini technique it seemed: blink of an eye quick. A trick the old door-to-door salespeople would have coveted. ‘Hiya,’ she’d said when I’d responded to the knock. Then she’d flashed a smile at me to complement the cheery greeting before, somehow, she was past me and strolling into the living room. I recognised her as a neighbour from two doors along, a striking young woman not long moved in with her husband. I’d passed her once in the entryway downstairs, but only exchanged a nod in greeting on that occasion. I’d been going out and she was coming, her laden with a bag of supplies from the Budgens shop across the car park. We didn’t exchange a word at the time, but I’d noticed her all right. She was. “If that’s alright with you,” he smiled. He watched her carefully, trying to determine what she was thinking. He wondered if it was a mistake to be so forward. He decided that no matter what, he wanted her to know that he was interested, he only wished she would give him a response. “Maybe we should just get through dinner first.” Tessa said after a short while. Conner nodded, and then they sat down for supper. There were several questions Conner wanted to ask, beginning with what had happened the night she ended up in the hospital, and how she had injured herself, but he decided to keep conversation light. He asked about her job, and her father, not exactly prepared to enter the subject of bitchy Katrina. Tessa had started off eating slowly, but with a little encouragement he had her cleaning her plate, and he strayed into the subject of food she liked, but never actually ate, obviously taking notes for the next time he wanted to feed her. When they were finished, Conner cleaned up.
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