‘I need to find a Piccadilly line station.’
‘Leicester Square.’ I point up the road. ‘I can get the Northern line from there.’
We walk on in silence. I ask Joe about his plans for the week; he tells me.
We’re nearly at the station. He half-turns to face me.
‘I had a really nice time this evening…’
I take his arm. He hasn’t finished.
‘I did have a really nice time…’
He comes to a standstill. I let go of his arm.
‘… I don’t think it’s going to – ’
Wow. I didn’t know people actually said things like that.
‘Cos I think you’re really cool.’
I might have made that line up; I was in a slight state of shock.
‘Well, thank you for telling me.’
‘I wanted to say it in person. I didn’t want to tell you by text….’
No, because then I’d have never found out.
He repeats the offer of friendship. I’m non-committal. He finishes up,
‘… maybe not straightaway.’
‘Yeah… well… thanks….’ For what? ‘…for being straight with me.’
So bloody polite. My parents would be proud.
‘I do think a lot of you.’
I force a smile, and gesture vaguely in the direction from which we’ve come.
‘I’ll go from Charing Cross.’
I turn, still in a state of shock, and walk slowly in the direction of Trafalgar Square. Some Waterloo.