Page 4 of Love at First Sight

‘Have you been spying on me?’ I ask.

‘Unfortunately I speak from experience.’

‘The jilted lover,’ I say.

‘Can’t say I don’t own it,’ he replies.

I narrow my eyes at him, assess his face. Okay, so the lad has banter. Interesting. A face like that, easy to talk to, comfortable with his emotions and his vulnerabilities … My eight minutes with him have become fifteen, and I am more and more intrigued.

‘You ever been told you’re funny?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘Funny-looking.’

‘Hardly,’ I say, before I can stop myself. He bites down on his lip and my lower pelvis jolts awake. Jesus Christ.

‘Right back at ya.’ His lips curl upwards like he knows he’s being cheesy and he ain’t sorry about it.

‘Ladies and gentlefolk, boys and girls, both and neither – you arecordiallyinvited to our show!’

‘What the …?’ Cal says, as three men in waistcoats and bowler hats cartwheel through the tarmacked car park where we’re waiting. They move into the middle,with one guy jumping on the shoulders of another, and the third guy doing flips around them.

‘Just across the way, you can prepare to be amazed,’ says one of them. ‘We have jokes! We have pathos! We will reset your paradigm with stories we have been workshopping for months! All for free, as we prepare to tour!’

‘Awww,’ I say, watching these men try to rally support for their performance. ‘That takes balls, rounding up strangers to watch your show. God bless.’

Cal inhales sharply. ‘Yup,’ he says. ‘Especially when I’d bet most people just want to get on with their day.’

‘I guess.’

Cal looks at me. ‘You don’t have wild plans you’re itching to shoot off to?’

‘Not really,’ I admit. ‘Truth be told.’

‘Truth be told, me neither.’ He shrugs.

Ask me to hang out.

‘You’ll come along, won’t you, you beautiful people?’ One of the actors has appeared beside us, all but physically manhandling us in the direction of his show. ‘You’ll be sorry to miss it once you see us collect our BAFTA this time next year. Come on!’

‘I don’t think we’re allowed to go yet,’ I say, panicking. Do I really want to get bamboozled into hours of amateur theatre and risk Mr Handsome Whole Foods here slipping through my fingers? No, I do not.

Right as Cal starts agreeing with me, it is announced by the fire marshal: ‘Friends! You are now free to go!’ Calstops, mid-sentence. He snaps his mouth shut and smiles at me.

‘I tried,’ he says, apologetically.

‘And failed,’ the performer adds brightly. ‘Come on, follow me, this will be the best hour of your life! Or at least in the top five hundred!’

I start to object, but I know for a fact this is exactly the kind of random event I am supposed to embrace.Do it for the story.That’s what India would say right now. I just really do not want to go alone …

Ask me to hang out!!

‘I don’t actually have anywhere else to be,’ I say to Cal. ‘So … I’m gonna go, I think …’

Say you want to come too!!

Cal looks impressed. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, why not?’

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