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This Man(168)

By:Jodi Ellen Malpas


We walk through the food quarter, and I can’t take the heat anymore. It’s not particularly hot, but with all the tourists and crowds, I’m feeling stifled. I remove my bag from across my body, taking my cardigan off to wrap it around my waist.

‘Ava, your dress is missing a huge chunk!’

I turn around on a smile, finding him gaping at the cut out section of my dress. What’s he going to do? Undress me and cut it up?

‘No, it’s the design.’ I inform him, tying my cardigan around my waist and replacing my bag over my body. He turns me around, pulling my cardigan further up my body in an attempt to conceal the revealed flesh. ‘Will you stop?’ I laugh, wriggling free.

‘Do you do this on purpose?’ he snaps, arranging his big palm in the centre of my back.

‘If you want full length skirts and polo neck jumpers, then I suggest you find someone your own age.’ I mutter as he starts guiding me through the crowds with his hand firmly in place. I earn myself a dig in the ribs for my cheek. He’ll have me in a Burka next.

‘How old do you think I am?’ he asks incredulously.

‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ I toss back at him. ‘Do you want to relieve me of my wondering?’

He scoffs. ‘No.’

‘No, I didn’t think so.’ I mutter. Something catches my attention. I quickly detour to a stall full of scented candles and all things hippy. I hear Jesse cursing behind me, barging through the crowds to keep up with me.

I make it to the stool, and I’m greeted by a new age type, with wild dreadlocks and plenty of piercings.

‘Hi.’ I smile, reaching up to grab the cloth bag from the shelf.

‘Afternoon,’ he says. ‘Do you want some help with that?’ He joins me by the shelf, helping me retrieve the cloth bag.

‘Thanks.’ I feel Jesse’s warm palm on me again as I open the cloth bag and pull out the contents.

‘What’s that?’ Jesse asks, looking over my shoulder.

‘These,’ I shake them out, ‘are Thai fisherman pants,’

‘I think you need a smaller size.’ He frowns, running his eyes across the huge piece of black material that I’m holding up.

‘They’re one size.’

He laughs. ‘Ava, you could get ten of you in them.’

‘You wrap them around. One size fits all.’ I’ve been meaning to replace my worn ones for months.

He moves to the side, keeping his hand exactly where it is, and looks at the pants dubiously. Admittedly, they do look like a pair of trousers for the world’s most obese man, but once you figure them out, they’re super comfy for knocking around the house on a lazy day.

‘Here, let me show you.’ The stall owner takes the trousers from my grasp and kneels in front of me.

I feel Jesse’s palm tense on my back. ‘We’ll take them.’ he spits out fast.

Oh, here comes a trample!

‘You need a demo.’ Dread’s says cheerfully, jiggling the opening of the trousers at my feet.

I lift my foot to step into the trousers, only to have myself tugged back slightly. I glance up at him, flashing a warning look. He’s being ridiculous. The man’s just being friendly.

‘You have great legs, Miss.’ Dreads says happily.

I cringe. ‘Thanks.’ Don’t encourage him!

‘Give me those.’ Jesse snatches the pants from Dread’s before positioning me with my back to a shelf full of candles. Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, he kneels on one knee and opens the pants for me. I smile sweetly at Dreads, who seems to be oblivious to Jesse’s trampling performance, probably too spaced out to notice. I step into the pants, pulling them up while Jesse holds onto the two gaping sides, his frown line deep on his forehead. God love him!

I quickly take control of the wrapping for fear of Dreads trying to intercept. ‘Like this, see?’ I fold the pants over, tying them on the side.

‘Wonderful,’ Jesse mocks, looking at them in confusion. His eyes find mine, and I break out in a full smile. He shakes his head, his eyes twinkling. ‘Do you want them?’

I start to unfasten and remove the trousers under Jesse’s watchful eye. ‘I’m paying.’ I inform him.

He rolls his eyes on a disgusted snort, taking a wad of notes from his pocket. ‘How much for the oversized trousers?’ he asks Dreads.

‘Just a tenner, my friend,’

I fold them up, shoving them in the bag. ‘I’m paying for the trousers, Jesse.’

‘Is that it?’ Jesse shrugs as he shoves a note at Dreads.

‘Cheers,’ Dreads shoves it in his bum-bag.

‘Come on.’ he says, his hand replaced on the exposed flesh of my back.