A Girl's Guide to Fairy Tales

Chapter Five (part 2)

‘And then what did you say?’ Issie squealed.

‘Not much really. He just said perhaps I would bump into him next Saturday.’

‘Bump! He has a sense of humour then,’ she giggled.

‘Oh and then he also looked in my trolley and pointed out I needed a little more meat in my diet.’

I had to hold the phone away from my ear as Issie burst into a fit of unladylike laughs, throwing in a snort for good measure. ‘And he’s saucy too!’ she screamed.

‘Oh grow up Issie, I’m sure he didn’t mean that,’ I protested, although I had read somewhere that men were supposed to think about sex every seven seconds or something ridiculous.

‘Maybe he did maybe he didn’t, who knows? But it’s true, you do need some more meat in your diet.’

‘Anyway,’ I said trying to divert her attentions to something less crude. ‘I was only ringing to see if you’d heard from Sophie today. I’ve been trying to get in touch with her all afternoon.’

‘Well it is her and Tom’s first day off together for a while. Perhaps they’re a little pre-occupied?’

‘They’re only decorating though?’

‘Oh Clare, a penny would drop through wet cement faster.’

It took a few more seconds to understand what Issie meant. Seriously, forget about men thinking about sex every seven seconds, I’m sure Issie thought about it every five. ‘I see,’ I said eventually.

‘Well let me know if you “bump” into this shopping guy again. I think he likes you.’

‘Don’t be silly Issie.’

‘It’s true! There is no way a man of the build you described would be looking for anything other than protein and pasta. Crispbreads and crackers? No way. He definitely followed you.’

‘No he didn’t. He simply took a wrong turn or was using it as a short-cut. You’re always looking for the drama in everything.’

‘Drama makes life more exciting don’t you think?’ I didn’t answer. ‘Perhaps it’s fate then.’

‘There’s no such thing as fate.’

‘So you keep saying,’ Issie said dryly. She cleared her throat in that way she did before she said something poignant. ‘However, you also keep saying that you’ve got to work at something to achieve anything.’

Her impression of me wasn’t bad but it wasn’t flattering either - a little too squeaky perhaps. ‘If that’s the case,’ she continued, ‘then get out there and work at it. If Sam implied he might bump into you next Saturday, then make sure you’re fu- flipping there!’ she lectured.