‘Well, to tell you the truth I’ve never really thought of it,’ he says, his voice sounding like he’s suppressing a laugh.
‘Well maybe you should,’ I snap.
How dare he make me feel stupid. He’s the idiot that doesn’t know about the penny rule. I stomp off towards the tube station, not caring whether he’s following me or not. I HATE how he makes me feel stupid.
‘You are funny,’ he says, catching up with me in one stride of his long legs.
Great, probably funny like a clown. No-one fancies a comedian do they. Of course they don't. You don't ever see clown porn do you? Oh my God, why the hell am I thinking about clown porn? Images of creepy men dressed as clowns with their dicks out are flashing through my mind.
We jump on the tube and travel for a while in silence.
‘You fancy getting a coffee before you go in?’ he asks casually.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ I say still feeling moody.
When we get off at my stop I’m in a better mood, even though the weathers taken a turn for the worst. I must be the only person in the world that prefers a good thunder storm to tropical sunshine.
‘Look at those clouds,’ Ryan says, glancing towards a couple of big dirty grey clouds looming over us.
‘Yeah. They look like shapes of things.’
‘Really?’ he asks, looking up at them again confused.
‘Yeah, look.’ I point upwards at them. ‘There's a banana, that's the Eifel Tower and that's a clown.’
God, why can't I stop thinking about clowns!?
‘You really are a fruit cake,’ he laughs, shaking his head while he reads his blackberry.
‘No I’m afraid that you are just a bore.’
‘Thanks,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘In here OK?’ he asks gesturing towards a Cafe Nero.
‘Actually...could we go in there?’ I point towards my normal bakery.
‘Yeah, whatever.’
As we walk towards it the rain starts and we hurry our pace to miss it. The smell of fresh bread hits me the minute we walk through the door and it instantly calms me, like it always does. I look around at all of the beautiful, mis-matched, hand painted china tea cups. I’m home.
Ryan shakes his wet hair like a dog and gestures towards a small table with two chairs.
‘This is a nice place. You been here before?’
‘A few times.’
‘Hey Poppy,’ Glenda says, walking past and blowing my cover. ‘Shall I get you the usual?’
Damn it.
Ryan turns to smirk at me, my cover completely blown.
‘Um...OK then. Ryan, what do you want?’
He stares at me for a moment, amusement in his eyes.
‘I think I’ll have the usual too,’ he says, smiling at Glenda.
‘Are you sure?’ I check. ‘You don't even know what I’m having.’
‘I know. But I’m a risk taker. I’m crazy like that.’
Glenda rolls her eyes, winks at me and then walks away.
‘So, you never come in here then?’ he asks, cocking his eyebrow up.
‘I may be a bit of a regular,’ I smile.
‘How come? Don't you have a Starbucks closer to your office?’
‘Yeah, but it's not the same. There's nothing like a good bakery. The smell of fresh bread, iced cupcakes. It's all so lovely,’ I gush, inhaling heavily.
‘Wow. You really like bakeries,’ he laughs.
‘Well, my Grandma used to own one when I was little.’
‘Really? That's pretty cool.’
‘Yeah it was. I used to pop in every day after school and she’d make me a hot chocolate and give me the cupcake of the day. And she’d always have rock and roll playing on the radio and flour all over her clothes.’
God, just remembering her makes me miss her all the more. How can someone be gone for so long and the pain still feel so fresh?
‘So, you two were close?’
‘Yeah, really close. She totally got me, unlike my Mum,’ I say rolling my eyes.
‘Two usual’s,’ Glenda says, placing down two teas and two big pink cupcakes.
‘Nothing much has changed then,’ he says, humour curving his lips. ‘So, did she sell it?’
‘No. She died.’
‘Oh.’ Ryan’s face drops as he tries to smile sympathetically.
‘It's OK. It was a sudden heart attack when I was fifteen. My Mum and Auntie inherited the bakery.’
‘And sold it?’ he guesses.
‘Yep. I’ll never forgive them for selling it. Especially to those people that turned it into a porn shop.’
Ryan spits out tea as he suddenly laughs.
‘Shit, sorry,’ he says, rubbing a napkin over his mouth. ‘I just...wasn’t expecting you to say that.’
‘I know. Anyway, now whenever I’m feeling a bit crap I come here or to another bakery. The smells remind me of her. It kind of comforts me, you know.’
‘Yeah, I get it.’
He leans forward and places his hand over mine. I quickly move it away and stuff a bit of the cupcake in my mouth.
‘So. I’ve been asked out by Teddy’s Grandson.’
‘What?’ he says, suddenly alert, his jaw wide.
‘Yeah,’ I say coolly. ‘Called me yesterday and asked me out tonight.’
‘And you said yes?’
‘Yeah. That's normally how these things work,’ I say sarcastically, glaring up at him from over my hot tea. All I see when I look at him now is him kissing Grace.
‘Oh right. I just didn’t think you’d be interested,’ he says, his tone cutting.
‘Well, tell me. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t go out with him?’ I wish he’d tell me not to go. To stay home with him.
He stares at me intently as if he’s trying to figure out what to do. For a brief second his stunning face is unexpectedly vulnerable.
‘No. I suppose I can't,’ he says indifferently.
‘Well, then I’m going,’ I say defiantly.
‘Have fun,’ he snorts.
How fucking dare he. Snort about my date. Like it's some big joke. Well, I’ll show him. I’ll show him just how gorgeous and attractive to another man I can be.
‘I will.’
‘I was actually going to invite you to a work do in a few weeks, but now I’m not sure if your new boyfriend will get upset.’
‘What work thing?’ I ask eagerly.
‘It's this charity event they do every year. Probably really lame, but I can't really be arsed to get a proper date.’
‘Oh thanks!’ I exclaim, sounding more peeved than a normal friend should. ‘Why don't you just ask Grace?’
‘Why would I do that?’ he asks innocently.
Because you were kissing her in the kitchen last night.
‘Well...I think you two make a good couple.’
‘Well, I don't think we do,’ he says, as he breaks his cupcake apart with his hands.
‘Really? You looked pretty cosy last night,’ I say, not being able to resist.
‘That wasn’t what it looked like. She kissed me. I’m not interested.’
‘OK, I believe you,’ I mock.
‘Look, do you want to come or not?’ he asks, pissed off.
I pause, pretending to mull it over.
‘Yeah OK. I suppose I’ve got nothing better to do.’
‘Well I’m very honoured that you’ll grace me with your presence,’ he says sarcastically.
‘Pops!’ someone calls.
I turn round to see Lilly and Neville walking in. What the hell are they doing here?
‘Hey Lilly, Neville. Have you met Ryan?’
‘Yes, I met him at the party. Alright?’ she smiles. Ryan smiles back politely.
‘I haven’t met him,’ Neville says, looking a bit peeved at me having coffee with another man.
‘Oh, of course. Neville, this is Ryan. My housemate.’
Neville looks him up and down as Ryan brushes the crumbs from his cupcake off his hands and extends it to him.
‘Hi, I’m Neville,’ he says, taking his hand. ‘I’m Poppy’s boyfriend.’
I choke on my tea and start spitting it out. Did he just say boyfriend? I look up to see Lilly completely lost for words. A complete rarity. Ryan’s looking at Neville as if he’s mental and Neville looks like he might punch Ryan any moment.
Boyfriend? Where the hell did he get that from?
‘Um...come on Neville,’ Lilly says, dragging him towards the counter. ‘Let’s get a coffee.’
She looks back at me and mouths ‘what the fuck?’
I turn back to face Ryan and he’s smiling smugly.
‘Boyfriend? You’re honestly going out with him?’
‘No, of course not! I don't understand how he’s come to that conclusion, trust me.’
‘Then, why don't you just tell him?’
‘I can't be that mean to him!’
‘Oh and it's not mean to keep leading him along like this?’
‘I...’ Shit, I don't have an answer for this. ‘It's...complicated.’
‘Hey!’ I hear Lilly shout. ‘Get to the back of the queue.’
I turn round to see a rough looking guy staring angrily back at Lilly. He’s in dirty jeans and a ripped duffel jacket. I’m guessing that he’s homeless.
‘I was here first,’ he snarls.
Oh God, I really don't like the look of him. He looks like a heroin addict.
‘No you weren’t!’ she screams, never one to miss out on the dramatics.
‘I’m afraid that we were before you,’ Neville says, nervously, straightening up his glasses.