The Girl Before Eve

by Lisa J. Hobman

  He leaned down and grabbed her hand, pulling her to a standing position. Wrapping his arms around her, he mumbled, “I’ve missed you, Cheesy.”

  She hugged him back. “Well, yes. I’m sure you have. After all you can’t function without me in your life. How have you managed to get dressed and stuff?”

  “With great difficulty.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Look, Lil…I’m so sorry for the things I said. I was a complete shit.”

  She looked up into his eyes. “Yes…you were.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, you know?”

  “Well you did. But I forgive you now. So let’s just drop it, okay?”

  He made a pot of tea and brought it through to where she sat. It was good to see her sitting on the sofa in his house again. He laughed at the sight before him. Monty had clearly missed her, too. He had climbed up and spread himself across her lap. He had filled out quite a lot and was far too big to be a lap dog. But Lily was happily scratching him behind the ears and he was loving it. His tongue was hanging out again and every so often he licked her from chin to brow.

  “Ah, I see I’ve been replaced, eh?” He gestured towards the contented canine.

  “I think you have. This one doesn’t give me half as much grief. And I’m sure he can manage to dress himself when he goes out on a date.”

  Adam grinned. “Funny. I’ve missed being insulted constantly.”

  She giggled. “Ah well, don’t you worry. I’ve been saving up and I have a couple of months to catch up on, so brace yourself!”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Crazy (Cee Lo Green)

  June 2011

  Supermarket shopping was the bane of Adam’s life. Eve used to make it more bearable and even fun. These days he favoured shopping later in the evening when it was quieter. Thursday night. Shopping night. The supermarket was a little busier than he was used to and it irritated him. He was standing in the tinned food aisle trying to decide between a tinned chicken pie or a tin of chicken curry for dinner when suddenly a trolley crashed into his legs sending him careening across the aisle and onto his side. Expletives flew from his mouth as the air pretty much turned blue around him.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”

  Adam looked up, pursed-lipped into the face of a very pretty young woman. She had beautiful red hair that fell in long waves around her shoulders. Her eyes were a vivid green and filled with a look of horror.

  He clambered to his feet. “What the hell were you doing? You obviously weren’t watching where you were going!” he snapped.

  The young woman’s bottom lip began to quiver and her verdant eyes welled with tears. “I’m really very sorry. I was…I was texting my mum, and no, I wasn’t looking. I’m sorry.”

  His frown softened at the poor woman’s expression. “It’s okay. I’ll live,” he chuntered, feeling rather guilty.

  “I bet you’ll have a bruise there tomorrow.” The woman cringed.

  “Yeah, probably…look, don’t worry…I’m fine.”

  The woman sniffed and wiped her eyes. His chest clenched. She looked really upset as she stood there clearly not daring to walk away. Finally he smiled. “I’m Adam Langton by the way,” he informed her, but unsure why that was even relevant.

  She smiled back and a look of relief washed over her. She breathed out a huff of air that she must have been holding in. “I’m Petra…Petra Millar,” she said with a shaky voice.

  “Look, Petra, you seem really shaken up. Can I buy you a coffee over in the cafe?” He gestured toward the back of the store where the little coffee shop was situated. He hoped it was still open.

  “Erm…erm…”

  “Sorry, sorry…I’m a stranger and it was creepy of me to ask. I just feel really bad about…you know…the poor impression of a footballer diving after a wee tackle.” He nodded to the floor.

  Petra laughed. “Coffee would be great, thank you.”

  They wheeled their trolleys toward the coffee shop and parked them up at the edge in the trolley park. Adam ordered two lattes and carried them over to where Petra sat fiddling with her fingernails.

  After handing her drink over, he sat opposite her. “Are you okay now?” he asked.

  “Oh, shouldn’t I be asking you that question? After all it was me that pole axed you with a shopping trolley.” She pursed her lips and her eyes pulled into a frown.

  “Oh, I’m fine. I’ll speak to my lawyers tomorrow.”

  Petra’s face drained of all colour. “Oh God, you’re going to sue me?”

  He frowned. “Oh hell, no I was kidding.” He shook his head slowly.

  “But you might change your mind…when you get home and your leg is all bruised…you’ll sue me, won’t you?” Her eyes were wide.

  He held his hands up in a surrendering motion. “Honestly, Petra, I’m kidding. I’m not going to sue you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  He chuckled. “I’m very sure. I was kidding.”

  “Okay…okay…that’s fine then.” She was a very nervous person judging by the way her hands were juddering.

  “So, Petra, what do you do?”

  “I…erm…I work in the whole foods shop in town.”

  “You work in Nutty As?” He smiled.

  She nodded. “Yes…that’s me.”

  He grinned. “But your trolley was full of junk food.” He remembered noticing the large amount of chocolate, wine, and crisps in the trolley, not to mention the ready meals and pizzas.

  Her cheeks coloured and she cringed. “Guilty. I work with pulses and oats and tofu all day. All I fancy when I get home is a burger and chips or sweet stuff.” She bit her lip as a smile spread across her face.

  Adam laughed. “Clearly use of the products is not a requirement of the job.”

  She shook her head with a wide smile on her face. After a pause she asked, “So Adam Langton, what do you do?”

  “I’m an English teacher. High school.” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “Oh gosh. Teachers were never that good looking when I was at school.” She slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the words had finished leaving it. “Oh God, I shouldn’t be allowed out in public, should I?” she said as she covered her eyes and the pink in her cheeks became a vibrant red.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s a nice compliment. And to be honest most of the ones I work with are ugly as sin, but don’t tell them I said so.” He winked.

  She giggled as she sipped her coffee. “So…are you married, Adam?” she eventually asked.

  “Yes…well…no…widowed actually.” He winced at his mixed up answer.

  “Oh that’s sad. I thought you must be married. All the good looking ones are.” She pulled her lips in, closed her eyes, and hit herself on the head. “Stop putting foot in mouth, Petra.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment too, eh?”

  They chatted for a while about the whole food shop and some of the interesting characters Petra encountered on a daily basis, and Adam regaled her with stories of his own unhealthy diet.

  Eventually, Petra took a deep breath. “Look…Adam…I know this is quite forward of me, but as you can see my brain-to-mouth filter is malfunctioning today anyway. Why stop now I say. Anyway, can we swap numbers? You know, in case you decide you might want to meet up again? You seem really nice, and well, most of the guys I meet are either married, old, boring, or gay…so…”

  He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper and a chewed biro, probably one he had found on the classroom floor. He proceeded to scribble down his number and hand it to her. “Here you go. You have mine. You know, in case you decide you don’t want to hear from me. That way it’s up to you if you contact me or not.”

  She took the number and put it in her bag. “Thanks. Look, I should go really. I have to get home to feed Grunewald.”

  He was the one to narrows his eyes this time. “And Grunewald would be…?”

 
She shrugged. “He’s my parrot. I get quite a good deal on seeds,” she stated as if that was the sole reason one had a pet bird.

  “Ah, of course.” He nodded.

  The two new acquaintances parted company with an awkward handshake. She said she would call and arrange coffee maybe. As he walked away he surmised giving her his number was possibly a stupid thing to have done. She seemed a bit flaky after all. She was pretty, but that was maybe where things ended. As he put his items through the self-check-out, he decided she probably wouldn’t call him anyway. She’d seemed very nervous. He put thoughts of Petra from his mind and left the supermarket.

  ♥♥♥

  The following day was draining. Chaucer and a group of disaffected fifteen-year-olds was a combination set for disaster. The language was neither easy to pick up nor did they feel—as they informed him on a regular basis—that it held any relevance to them whatsoever. Adam had tried every which way to get through to them, but they were behaving very badly and were testing his already stretched patience. Thank goodness, it was Friday at last.

  After running a whole class detention, Adam arrived back to his car. The car park was all but empty, and he had a cold beer waiting at home with his name on it. Well, it quite possibly had Mr. Bud Weiser’s name on it, but he was going to drink it regardless. As he was throwing his bag of exercise books for grading into the back of the car, he spotted something moving out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up to see Petra’s face disappearing behind the wall. What the—?

  He slammed the door. “Hi, Petra? What are you doing here?” he called as he approached where she was trying to hide. He heard her cursing and she slowly walked out from where she was badly secreted.

  Her cheeks were flushed. “Oh…erm… Hi, Adam. I…I just…erm…wanted to check your leg was okay,” she stuttered and fiddled with her hair as she spoke.

  “A simple call or text message would have sufficed, you know. You have my number, after all. You didn’t have to come all the way out here, and I didn’t actually say where I worked, did I?” He asked the question more of himself.

  She shook her head. “No, you didn’t say where, but well…I figured it out really…and I had the day off from work…so…” She continued to fidget.

  “Oh…right…well, that’s nice, but really you didn’t have to come and wait for me on your day off.”

  She shrugged. “Oh, no it’s okay. I took the day off especially.”

  A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. “You took the day off especially so you could come to my place of work to check on my leg? Oh…” He tried to sound breezy. “Well…well, as you can see I’m upright and fine, so you can go home and stop worrying now.”

  “Are you free tonight?” she blurted out.

  “I’m sorry…no, I’m going out with my friend for her birthday.”

  A look of horror spread across her face. “You said you were single.”

  He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “No, no, I said I was widowed, but really, Petra, I only met you yesterday. What’s all this about?”

  She shrugged again and looked at the floor. “I like you…a lot.”

  He puffed his cheeks out. “Thank you, that’s sweet and everything, but you can’t just go turning up at my place of work. It’s not the done thing. It’s not exactly healthy, Petra.” He glanced around to see if anyone was bearing witness to the conversation, suddenly desperate not to be alone with her.

  She jerked her head up. “Are you saying I’m crazy or something?”

  Oh so, she’s a mind reader, eh? He couldn’t help but laugh. “I never said that. I just think that taking a day off just so you can follow me to work is…well…just not healthy, that’s all.”

  “Okay, I won’t do it again. So when are you coming around?”

  “Sorry? Coming around?” When did I say I was going around? He racked his brains but came up blank.

  “Yes, when are you going to come around to mine… When are we seeing each other again?” She continued to fiddle with her hair rather like a sulking toddler.

  He pulled his features into a confused frown. “Erm…I…erm.” He shook his head as he struggled to process everything. “I’m sorry, Petra, but we didn’t actually arrange to meet up again. That was why you took my number, remember?”

  “I know but I’m asking you now instead, seeing as I’m here and everything. I think we were meant to meet. Yesterday I mean. I think it’s the universe telling us something, don’t you?” She lurched toward him and he stepped back.

  Oh great…someone forgot to take their crazy pills this morning. He smiled and spoke as calmly as he could manage. “Petra, I think the universe is saying it’s time for me to go home. I’ve had a rough day, and I’m just not in the mood for this…this…whatever this is. I think once you’ve had time to think this all through you’ll realise that I’m not for you.” He stepped back again. “I’m not really ready for a relationship, and I think you’re maybe looking for something that just isn’t here. I met you in a supermarket. We had coffee. That’s all.”

  “You led me on!” she cried out.

  “No, what I did was give you my number, which was maybe an error of judgement on my part. If that was misleading then I apologise, but really I’m not looking for a relationship. Friendship maybe, but to be honest, you’ve freaked me out a little bit, and so maybe we should just rethink the whole thing.”

  “I’ve told my mother about you!” she said accusingly, hands on hips.

  He was feeling exasperated now. “We’ve met once, Petra, once. You know nothing about me. Nothing at all!”

  She frowned and looked at him from under her lashes. “Yes and we both felt a connection, Adam. I know you felt it, too.”

  “What I felt was agonising pain when you rammed me with your bloody trolley!” he raised his voice without meaning to.

  Suddenly, she burst into tears. “This always happens! Men always treat me like this.”

  He felt guilty and more than a little disturbed at the same time. “Petra, don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you’re just a little bit too intense. Maybe following someone to work is not the best way to try to start any relationship, eh? Just slow up a little. You’ll scare people off.”

  She slowly lifted her head. “Do you think so?”

  He nodded. “I do yes. I’m sorry to say that, but just think about how you’ve behaved after only meeting me once.”

  “I know…I know…but…you seem so…normal. I want normal, Adam. I want a man like you. But men like you think I’m stupid.”

  “No, that’s not true. Intense, maybe. Stupid, no.” A complete and utter fruitbat, absolutely. He cringed at his errant thought.

  “Okay.” She nodded as she sniffed. “Okay, I won’t come here again. I apologise. But can I still call you? Could we still go out on a date?”

  Shittyshit fuck, what do I say now? “I don’t think I’m what you need. You seem like a nice girl who needs a man who can offer a relationship. I can’t do that. I don’t mean to be cruel. But perhaps you and I should just…you know…be friends maybe…leave it there?” Friends who never speak and never, ever acknowledge each other preferably, you crazy stalker person. Think it’s time to change my number.

  She nodded resignedly. “Yes…yes I think I spoiled it. I always do.” She turned and walked away with her head hung. Adam breathed a huge sigh of relief at her absence. He almost ran to his car, praying she didn’t follow him home. Visions of the movie Fatal Attraction flashed through his bewildered mind.

  ♥♥♥

  Later that night, Adam sat in the restaurant with Lily and filled her in on the parrot owning, creepy, stalker-type he had met at the supermarket the day before and how she had turned up acting all bizarre at school.

  Lily, of course, thought it was hilarious.

  She listened, wide eyed but with a huge grin on her face. When he had finished telling her the story, she leaned forward. “Oh no, Adders, I bet you were Petra-fied of h
er! Get it? Petra-fied!” She burst into fits of hysterical laughter and guffawed as tears streamed down her face.

  He scrunched his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He was not amused. “Very funny, Lil. I’m telling you, she was scary. I’m talking major bunny boiler material. I feared for my life for a wee while there.”

  Lily held up her hands. “I’m sorry, Adders, I’m sorry, seriously… Did you…did you have to repeat things to her parrot-fashion for her to listen?” She slapped her thigh as her voice reached a kind of strangled, high-pitched squeak, and she was unable to contain her mirth.

  Other diners were beginning to look at them.

  He leaned across the table and spoke in a low voice. “Lily Macrae, will you bloody calm yourself down and get a fucking grip?”

  She pursed her lips and it was clear that she was trying to hold back her laughter. “Sorry…sorry…you’re right though…she did sound seedy! Ha ha! Seedy! I’m so good at this.” She dabbed at her eyes. “And when you think about it, she does work at Nutty As, so you should have known she was a few oats short of a granola bar.”

  His face finally broke into a wide grin. Shaking his head he raised his glass at his watery-eyed best friend. “Okay…I give up. I’m glad I made your day. Happy Birthday, Cheesy.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Leaving On A Jet Plane (John Denver)

  August 2011

  “Are you the only bloody reporter they’ve got, Lil?” Adam was in a huff again about Lily’s latest trip to the United States.

  “Obviously not, you numpty, but they think I’m good at what I do. And believe it or not I actually like the travelling.”

  The pair sat on his sofa eating pizza and drinking a nice bottle of Shiraz whilst Monty waited for the crusts. They’d been having yet another Monty Python film marathon, which had lasted from Friday night through to lunchtime Saturday. Lunchtime drinking was never a good idea, and Lily had said she felt sure she would regret it when she had to get to the airport later that night. Luckily a car was being sent for her and so the alcohol didn’t cause her any issues.