I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Sixty-Eight

The work on the kitchen was completed within a few days and I thought it looked a bit like we were in an over-sized cage, but once the glass had been painted it felt cheerier. Not to mention that spending a Saturday painting the little diamond panes with Alex was great fun. We wore our sloppiest clothes and dibbed and dabbed and sang along with the radio. Once that project was completed we decided it didn't quite go with the green toned kitchen and opted to completely redecorate the room. We thought we'd do it ourselves, though after spending a day prying tiles off the backsplash I said, 'Why didn't we think to apply to Changing Rooms? I'm sure they'd like to get their hands on this place.'

Alex snorted, 'Not if Laurence was going to be our decorator.'

'Come on, you know you've always wanted a leather counter top and disco light flooring.'

We wound up re-hiring Bruno Marrow and his crew and had them put in a new island and countertops. Alex got a new cooker and had a good scrubbing of the ovens. We then painted the room in black with burnished brass accents, which made it a bit more medieval than I'd hoped for, but it matched the dining room and the stained glass windows lightened the place up. When the last drop cloth was removed and the construction team were packing up their vans for the last time Alex and I stepped back to the doorway and regarded our work. It looked rather like a kitchen in an abbey. I liked it.

Alex said, 'We've achieved our goal of making the room into something entirely new.'

I nodded, 'We need a big, cast iron chandelier to hang over the table, though, one of the circular sorts that holds candles.'

She laughed at first then said, 'You know, that's not a half bad idea.' Guess what arrived by special delivery a week later.

Making the house our own again was a big step and remembering to set the alarm at night or when the two of us left the house took some practise, but after a time became routine. When it was time for our monthly dons' meeting I hadn't wanted to go. 'They're going to look at me like I'm a broken little bird—I can't take that. The "Oh, poor dear" looks.'

'If you don't go then they'll think you can't bear to be around people— frightened of leaving the house.'

I groaned and went to dress for the meeting, 'Damn you and your ability to be right all the time.'

I was right, though. As soon as we arrived at Dr Stanfield's house everyone grew quiet and stared. Then as a group they slowly returned to their conversations. I looked at Alex, 'I'm drinking tonight, is that all right with you?'

She smiled, 'Of course.'

I sat with her and Fiona came over and sat down, awkwardly hugging me. It wasn't awkward because she was forcing sentiment—it was because we were sitting down with our knees angled toward one another. She asked, 'How are you?' I could practically hear the "poor dear" at the end of the sentence.

'I'm perfectly fine.'

She nodded slowly, sympathetic expression in place, she reminded me of those hunting dogs that always look as though they were horribly depressed. 'Are you really?'

I think she wanted me to burst into tears and sob all over her. I smiled and said as earnestly as I could, 'Yes, I really am. I don't remember anything, Fi.'

'Still...it must be awfully difficult for you...all the press and public attention and everything.'

I nodded, 'Yes, well, that's never been my favourite thing, but yes, it's annoying to be constantly reminded of something that I don't recall.' I realised then that everyone was listening and continued to address Fiona, 'It's really rather annoying to have loads of people feeling terribly sorry for me when I don't feel sorry for me. It makes me begin to think I should be wailing and feeling awful, but I don't. I'm just glad they caught the guy. Sort of.'