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“They saw you coming a mile off, is what happened,” she noted, and as she did she looked around. A little theatrically, it had to be said. But it did serve a purpose. It drove something shocking home to her that she couldn’t help commenting on. “And now I’m realizing that oh my good golly you don’t have a TV. There is no television in here. Is there actually no television anywhere in here?”
“I want to plead the Fifth on that.”
“Alfie nooooo you didn’t. You didn’t let them take your telly.”
“They said having one was not in season at the moment.”
“But you don’t even have a good phone. How are you watching things?”
She turned to him then, just in time to see him crack again. And this one was worse, this was one was really despairing. Like he couldn’t quite believe he’d let all this happen and it was really bringing him down. Then he explained why.
“I’m so behind onRepair Shop,” he said.
And what was she supposed to do at that point? She couldn’t just carry on exclaiming about it and teasing him over it. Not when he’d admitted that this situation was bad, and that he didn’t like it, and most importantly: that he loved a gentle show about carefully fixing people’s broken family treasures.
It was just too adorable for her soft little heart to take. She couldn’t even maintain the casual-but-professional stance she’d vowed to hold on to. She had to care. So she got out her phone and started scrolling through options.
Much to his perturbation. “What are you doing now?” he wanted to know.
As if what she was doing might be deadly to him.
And she had a history of doing said deadly things.
Which to be fair to him, she somehow kind of did.
Just not this time. “Ordering you a TV from Amazon,” she said.
He still reacted like she’d threatened him with poisonous spiders, however.
“You can’t do that,” he said, in his grumpiest, most indignant voice.
Even though he was wrong and ridiculous.
“Of course I can.”
“But I don’t even have an account.”
“Oh my gosh, really? I am stunned by that incredible revelation.”
“You sassy little bugger. I’m not as bad as you’re making out, all right.”
“Uh-huh. So when I ask you for an email address to make the account, you’re going to be able to give me one, then. I don’t have to make it for you.”
She flicked her gaze up from her phone, just in time to see him start to struggle with the desire to say no, and the need to be honest about things. And she was glad she did, too, because Lord, was it a sight. He looked like he was trying to swallow something enormous and terrible and couldn’t quite manage it. His entire face was one big grimace; his eyes were almost watering. And when he finally managed, it almost seemed like a relief to him.
“Just go ahead and create one,” he said in one bigthank fuck for thatrush.
He needn’t have bothered, however. For one very good reason.
“Already did. I went with alfiehardingisaluddite at gmail dot com,” she said.
Which was a bit too mean in one way. But good in another.
Because it bounced him back quickly from having to swallow a bad thing.
“Okay, I know whatLudditemeans. And I’m not best pleased with you calling me that. In fact I think it’s outrageous of you, considering I picked you up in an electric car and brought you to a house with a shower you can turn on from all the way across the bloody country.”
“Yes, but canyouturn it on from across the bloody country?”
