The Budding Roses

You look like you've seen a ghost

Friday 3rd September

A week has passed since the rapture of the festival, and I'm unable to sleep since I'm a total hot bed of giddiness, flinging against the wall like an overcharged power ball.

'Have you recovered from the shock of seeing a ghost yet?' Harry had asked when I finally received his much anticipated phone call.

'To be honest, I don't think I'll ever get over it, but then again, you do have a habit of showing me scary things in wooded areas.'

'Well how do you fancy being scared a bit more?' He sounded nervous, like he was reading from a pre-prepared cue card.

'Well that depends; I'm certainly not going back into any woods, or even a field with you again.'

'Okay so trees are out, but how about you meet me in town on Friday night instead?'

I threw the phone down.

'Simone, are you still there?'

'Sorry the cat was pulling at the cord, and made me drop the phone.'

'I thought your cat died?'

'Oh yeah, it did. So what were you saying?'

'Will you meet me on Friday night?'

'I'll see what I can do.'

'You'll see what you can do? What does that mean?'

'I believe they call it playing hard to get. Cosmopolitan talks about it all the time. In order to reach her desired outcome a woman must make a man think he can't have what he wants.'

'If you want to have sex already then never mind what Cosmopolitan says; it's fine by me. I was just being polite by asking you to go for a drink first.'

'What makes you think I want to have sex with you? And okay I will meet you for a drink first.'

So there you have it, I'm going to meet Harry, and I'm ready to admit that I want to. There are to be no more sloppy snogs for us, oh no, it's going to be third time lucky, it's going to be fireworks! At last my life is actually going to happen.

Wednesday 8th September

'Oh no, it's Harry!' I ducked.

'What does that matter?' Natasha threw aside the bundle of shopping bags that I'd thrust upon her.

'It doesn't matter. I was just pointing out that Harry's over there, in case you haven't seen him.' What lies Simone! Of course it matters; it matters because it's still two days until I'm due to meet him, I'm not supposed to see him now, on Wednesday, when I've arranged to see him on Friday. This has been firmly scheduled in to my diary, any deviation from which cannot be granted without at least twenty four hours notice.

'Why do you keep staring at Harry?' Natasha scowled.

'What are you talking about? I'm not staring at Harry. I've never even so much as looked at him.'

'Whatever you say, but it's so obvious that you fancy him.'

'Shut up! It's so obvious that you fancy him more!' Why she's got some nerve when everyone knows that she's been in love with him forever, oh and any other male that happens to have a pulse, which is in fact all of the men in the world apart for the dead ones.

Ignoring the argument, I looked over again to where Harry was standing. Where had he gone? Maybe he'd left? But why would he leave without saying hello? Oh no, he reappeared, walking passed us without speaking.

'Look what you've done,' Natasha hissed, 'you've scared him with all this weirdo staring, and now even Harry won't talk to us.'

'I've done no such thing!'

But what if she's right, what if I've ruined my last remaining chance without so much as saying a word; especially because I never said a word? Really Simone, how hard is it to just say hello, especially to someone who you've known for your entire life?

Who knows what was occurring, but it was definitely crazy making, and granted I have a long history of being a loony, but now Harry was at it too. If only for the sake of his sanity I needed to do something, to be the one to set the example. Never mind what Natasha say's or thinks, I'm going to do it. Now! If only my feet would move.

'Is it really that difficult to choose a drink?' I demanded, as Harry fidgeted with the menu.

'I guess it must be.' I almost laughed; he was completely petrified, so scared that he had to gulp down about a minutes worth of air, before proceeding to question, 'why are you carrying so many shopping bags?'

'I don't know.' I shook my head and let them drop to the ground.

'Be careful will you!' Harry's strained voice mouthed.

What was happening? Why was I suddenly sprawled across the floor, now looking up at Harry's pained face, and why were my legs flooded with sticky wetness, the devastation of my white trousers screaming that I was now covered in the pungent flavour of blood?

'Are you okay?' Harry was crouching on his knees, as a crowd gathered around us.

'I've cut myself. Look at all the blood!' I felt faint, 'I think I need to go to the hospital, somebody call an ambulance.' The wretched worm was laughing. 'What's so funny? What's happened to me? I'm confused.'

'It's just red wine.'

'What do you mean red wine?'

'Some idiot bumped in to you, and spilt red wine on you, that's all. You're not dying, and you don't need to go to hospital.'

'But my trousers, my favourite summer trousers, they're ruined!'