I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I awoke in the same things I'd worn the day before and changed clothes. After my morning ablutions I went downstairs to find an extra large breakfast set out. I sat down and helped myself to a banger roll and Alex came in with the dogs.

I said to her, 'These are my favourite.'

'I know.'

Looking over the table, I realised all of my favourites were out. I smeared butter and honey on a crumpet, yummy. As I plopped two sultana pancakes on my plate I said, 'You know, we call sultanas raisins.'

'We call them raisins as well, "sultana" denotes the seedless variety.' She sipped her coffee, 'Are you feeling better?' I nodded, chewing on some bacon. 'Because it seemed as though you were unhappy with me.'

I shrugged, not caring to discuss it.

'When you get that way you sort of...go away, if you know what I mean. It's as if you've left the room.' When I didn't respond she continued, 'It's quite difficult to talk to you when you're that way and I only wanted to know what I'd said that'd so upset you.'

'Nothing.'

Her lips went tight and she exhaled audibly through her nose, 'I know you were angry about something, Catherine.'

'I don't like being called a smartarse.'

'I apologise for that.' When I didn't say anything else she asked, 'Is that all?'

I shrugged, not about to tell her my parents regularly called me names, and stirred jam into my porridge, 'I just really don't like being called a smartarse. I'll stop by Lena's library this afternoon and see if she'd like to do something some time.'

'You don't have to if you don't want to, you know.'

'She was nice. Now would you sit down and have some of this? Did you make everything that I like?'

She chuckled, pulling out a chair, 'Cooking is my way of saying I love you, I suppose.'

On the ride in I clutched my tummy and she asked if I was feeling all right. I said, 'Yeah, I just have an I-love-you stomach ache, that's all. Next time how about giving me a card.' I remembered the card I'd made her again and told myself to give it to her that evening.

She laughed, 'I make no promises.'

Sitting at my table I couldn't decide if I found the idea of spending time with Lena frightful or exciting. I rather liked looking at her, and she seemed nice, but that didn't mean I felt like going places or doing things with her. My favourite things to do were read, write, organise and talk to Alex. None of those things required assistance.

I delivered my assigned paper on literary representations of women in Victorian England to Dr MacBeth. We discussed the reading I was doing on my own and as I was packing up I asked, 'You're pretty good friends with Lena? I mean, Miss McCaffee.'

Dr MacBeth's rigid posture stiffened a bit more at the mention of her friend's name. She turned to me and asked coolly, 'Why do you ask?'

I shrugged, 'Alex, Professor Pristin, thought that maybe I should ask her if she'd like to see a movie or something. She thinks I need to make some friends other than herself,' I blushed feeling I'd revealed some private fault.

Dr MacBeth's face softened incrementally and she nodded once, 'Ah.' She inhaled deeply and said, 'You'd probably get on all right. Is that what you wanted to know?'

'I suppose. She's at the library at Mansfield?'

She nodded then asked, 'Did you enjoy the gathering the other evening?'