He ran his hand through his short hair, and leaned back against the counter. All the pieces began to fall into place-why she looked down all the time, afraid to make eye contact with people, why she’d froze that day in class, and why she’d just pulled away from him. He slowly walked to the bathroom, and gently knocked, but didn’t get an answer. He turned the handle and found the door was not locked, so he cautiously opened it. There he found her sitting in the bathtub. ‘Kayla, I’m sorry. I had no idea, great Detective I’ll make some day, huh.’ She didn’t respond, still looking down, so he went and sat down on the toilet in front of her. ‘You’re not damaged. You just had some bad shit happen to you. I’m sorry, I guess I pressured you too much…tried to move things too fast.’ ‘There was no way you could have known. I guess I should have been more forthcoming. It’s just that after it happened, I shut myself down to the prospect of anything with a man. And, it fucking sucks because I. “We need to go now, sir, if you are going to make your train.” The tea was half drunk, but I could sense the undercurrent of urgency in his tone. I collected my rucksack and belongings from the bedroom and joined him at the bottom of the stairs. The house was silent and there was to be no fond farewell on the doorstep, no one to wave me off. Sally had left me earlier to shower and never returned.“I think you might need one of those,” the driver said, pointing to a china stand by the front door, full of umbrellas of various shapes, sizes and colours before we both dashed through the pouring rain to the safety of the car.In contrast to our journey only twenty-four hours before, the driver was quite chatty, almost pleasant. He was talking about the weather and how much it had changed since yesterday.“Bloody country,” he said, as the serious-sounding jingle for the news began in the background, “you never know what to wear from one minute to the next.”Then the announcer said something.
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