Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day Seventy-One
After two days of twitching my curtains and straining my ears to wildly interpret every creak and knock as the return of the Baseball-Capped Killer, Joey’s cricket bat accompanying my woeful charade at sleeping, I was so grateful to receive Nathan’s text, I would have probably said yes to whatever wild and crazy challenge he’d presented me with.
Challenge 1: breakfast at the Cup and Saucer tomorrow
That’s it? Was expecting something a bit more interesting. If you eat breakfast there every Saturday, and this is just incorporating me into your robot routine, then I’m highly disappointed.
Have eaten breakfast there about 4 Saturdays since it opened. Thought a familiar place would help you get started.
Don’t pretend there isn’t a spreadsheet listing precisely how many Saturdays. I’ll meet you there at 9.
Thought we could meet in the dark, leave in the light. Maybe 7.30?
Are you trying to stunt my progress? Or hoping if you’re easy on me I won’t present you with a decent-sized challenge in return? Cos that’s not how I roll. And I’m ready to kick some butt, might as well be my own.
See you C&S, 9.
30
Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day Seventy-Two
That night consisted of precisely seven minutes sleep, seventeen thousand grabs of the cricket bat and seventy-hundred hissed arguments with my anxiety.
When I finally gave in and messaged Nathan at 6 a.m., he replied instantly.
I snatched about fifty-three seconds more sleep and finally dragged myself into the bathroom just before seven-thirty.
‘Ouch!’ I winced at the wild-woman squinting at me from the mirror. ‘This is going to take some time.’ And about two days more sleep. And a professional hairdresser. And more make-up than I had worn in the rest of my life all smeared together. And a miracle.
By eight-fifty, when the doorbell rang, I was a good twelve per cent of the way to looking in a fit state to be seen out having breakfast with Nathan Gallagher. Helped along by a non-terrible blue shirt dress from my pre-hermit days, I did my best attempt at casually sauntering downstairs, and opened the door, almost as if it wasn’t bright November sunshine outside.
‘Ready?’
I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath. Remembered I was on high alert for a crazed stalker and quickly opened them again. Nodded. Took a great big step out onto the path. Stepped back in again and decided I’d probably best put some shoes and a coat on first, as there was a wicked frost out there.
Only, by the time I’d put my boots on, I was ready to change my mind again.
Nathan said nothing. He crinkled his eyes at me in a sort of smile and held out his hand. I ignored that gorgeous temptation, taking a tentative step outside and then stopping again.
‘There’s been a complication.’
‘Okay.’ He watched me, steadily, eyes still crinkling.
‘I didn’t ask you to meet me here because I was wimping out of walking by myself. That car, the one the school warned the kids about, I’ve seen it a few times at the leisure centre, and for the past week it’s been hanging about the street, here.’
‘Seriously? How often?’ Nathan quickly turned to scan the road behind us.
‘A few times. I went out to confront them on Wednesday—’
‘You did what?’
‘They drove off when they saw me coming.’
‘Have you seen them since?’
