First Impression I

Chapter Twenty - An Errand

Chapter Twenty – An Errand

“Groveton Street, Groveton Street, 11 Groveton Street,” I muttered, scanning the map for the address. Groveton Street was all the way in the western side of town. It would take at least one hour to get there. That is if I don’t get lost. Better start off now then.

I tucked the map into my bag and made my way out of the town council, nodding my thanks at the office clerk who had helped me find the address of a Madam Genevieve Darryl.

Madam Darryl had been a very close friend of Mrs Elisabeth Watts, a resident at the Lions’ old folks home – the one Thornwell was doing its volunteer work at. Mrs Watts had approached me for help in finding her best friend. Both of them had fallen out over a boy in their twenties and when Madam Darryl moved away, they never met again.

I couldn’t refuse – who could? Mrs Watts had lung cancer; she didn’t have long to live. Her dying wish was to apologise to her best friend. She was so confident that I would be able to do it since I had been able to locate Mrs Katherine Still’s first love – another long story.

Anyway, Mrs Katherine had passed away with her first love by her side. It was really sweet actually. Them holding hands, smiling, laughing, talking. They had joked that the youngsters didn’t own all romance in the world; they still had some left in them.

News travels really fast because the day after Mrs Katherine’s funeral, Mrs Watts asked for me and entrusted me with this task. I sighed. Mrs Watts had not given any details except Madam Darryl’s age and maiden name. That narrowed down the search to three people but it would still take some time.

Wait, wasn’t that the bus I was supposed to take? It had to be since only one bus stopped here. I immediately broke into a mad sprint. This one bus was notorious for coming once every, lets say, one hour. Unfortunately, I was on the very edge of the pavement, right beside the drain. My foot slipped into one of the small openings of the drain and I swerved to the right before falling forwards and landing heavily on my left knee. Ouch.

I got up gingerly, my palms smarting and a slight twinge in my ankle. The bus sped off as I hobbled over to the bus stop bench and plonked myself down grumpily. My clumsiness could not have chosen a more convenient time to rear its head. Feeling immensely annoyed, I examined my injuries. The skin was scrapped off my knee and I could tell it would leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. Thankfully, my ankle was intact. Phew. No harm done.

I stretched my legs, preparing for a long and lonely wait at the bus stop – since all other passengers had already boarded the bus – when a metallic blue BMW car glided to a stop in front of me. I stared. Adrian stepped out of the driver’s seat.I stared harder, not believing my eyes. Off all places, I bump into him here? Right after a public humiliation? Incredible.

“You sure have a way of distinguishing yourself from other people,” Adrian said, smirking a little, as he sat down next to me on the bench.

I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I saw you fall,” he replied, not really answering the question. “How’s your knee?”

“Just a little bruise,” I said, waving it off. “Now, why are you here again?”