ED
I sat back in my seat with relief. I didn’t expect to be so pleased to be leaving London. I thought I’d feel a bit sad about the prospect of no Sam for three weeks but now I couldn’t wait to get away from her. The whole thing had made me feel exhausted and more than a little disgusted. Charlie’s party had been an endurance test, putting up with Rebecca as she flirted with her plastic smile, angling for any interaction she could get with Charlie, and making sure her fingers or head were on my arm whenever Sam was in the vicinity. She was witty, I had to give her that, but her humour was invariably patronising, sarcastic, caustic or all three at once and always, always delivered with her Cheshire-cat smile. It made my skin crawl, recalling it. And out of the corner of my eye, dear old Sam, tottering around looking peaky, trying so hard to ignore Charlie and then looking so lost and bewildered after the big scene. It was all a pile of meaningless bollocks.
I stared out the window, watching the last of London dissolve into countryside. She hadn’t even remembered to say goodbye to me last night. I’d told her I was off early on Monday morning but she was too busy mooning over that drunken fool of a man.
No more, I thought to myself. No bloody more. It was time to get away, move on, maybe even meet someone who actually cared about me. It was time to leave her and all her pettiness behind me.