It Could Be You: Part 1. Bella Osborne

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СКАЧАТЬ guessed he must have left work earlier than usual, probably just so he could beat her home and have something to moan about. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for some grovelling.

      ‘Hiya, you’re home early. I need to get straight on with the tidying,’ called Regan, scooting through the flat. She met Jarvis in the kitchen already shaking his head.

      ‘Regan, you promised you’d not leave my apartment in a state. And what did I come home to?’ It irritated her that he always managed to highlight that it was his place.

      ‘I was going to tidy up before you got back, but you’re early.’ She was trying to keep her cool, but the condescending look on his face was seriously annoying. ‘I’ll do it now.’

      ‘But it’s too late. I couldn’t bear it a moment longer, so I’ve tidied up your mess.’

      This was the bit where he expected her to thank him. She wasn’t going to. ‘You didn’t have to. You could have come home at your usual time and there wouldn’t have been a mess.’

      ‘We both know that was never going to happen.’

      ‘Er, yes it was. Because I’m home now and that would have given me …’ she looked at her bare wrist again, ‘… shitting hell …’ she checked the kitchen clock, ‘… twenty-three minutes. I could easily have tidied up in twenty-three minutes, but as you chose to do it, I don’t need to. So we’re all good.’ She responded to his confused expression with a cheesy grin and went to have a shower. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand living with Jarvis and his endless irritating lectures. In the initial flush of a new relationship she’d ignored his quirks, but now they just seemed to grate on her.

      Next morning, the sound of a car horn made Regan stir. She opened one eye. Jarvis wasn’t in bed. She stretched out and was dropping off again when a stab of conscience made her turn over and check the time. She blinked at the clock. ‘Shittity shittington!’ That couldn’t be right. She was seriously late for work and shitting Jarvis must have known and left her to her fate. Regan scrambled out of bed, keen not to repeat the carpet burn of yesterday. It would be another day without a morning shower, she thought, grabbing up her clothes from their floordrobe and dashing for the bathroom, tripping over Jarvis’s precious rug in the process. Bloody thing.

      Despite her lateness, Regan never missed getting a coffee. It was the only breakfast she had, and she justified her coffee purchase because it was also a commitment she had made to Kevin. And, more importantly, she couldn’t face a day of terminal tedium at work without a decent shot of caffeine. She flew into the little coffee shop and found Penny was already on the case. Within minutes Regan had swiped her card, grabbed her tray of coffees and was heading for the sugar sachets.

      ‘New process,’ said Penny. ‘No more sugar in little packets because some buggers keep nicking them. There’s a sugar dispenser on the side.’

      Regan was thrown by the new process. Trust Alex to have sodding sugar in his. She wrenched off the lid of his cup, tipped some in and quickly replaced the lid.

      Kevin was outside, his hair and beard wet as they often were in the morning. She puzzled over why that was; she had no idea where he would go for a shower. The irony that he had had a shower and she hadn’t wasn’t lost on her.

      ‘Morning, Kevin,’ trilled Regan, her pace virtually a jog. ‘Morning, Elvis.’

      Elvis barked his reply. The sound was loud enough to loosen her fillings and she very nearly threw the tray of coffees in the air. Kevin grabbed his quickly. ‘Thank you. Carpe diem.’

      ‘And you, Kevin,’ she called over her shoulder and she speed-walked in the direction of the office.

      When she arrived, Alex was hovering by their desks wearing a smart white shirt, dark tie and khaki chinos. Regan smirked at his outfit. He was definitely trying to impress the management. She could see he was looking flustered as she approached. ‘I’m sorry. Jarvis is playing games. The shit let me sleep in.’

      ‘You could set an alarm clock,’ said Alex, pulling his coffee from the tray.

      ‘I don’t like—’ but Regan didn’t get to finish her sentence. Alex pulled the coffee from the tray and it got a few centimetres from the desk before the lid parted company with the cup. The cup bounced on the desk and, in spectacular fashion, doused the front of Alex’s trousers with hot coffee. Alex gulped in air, making a noise like a train braking. Regan tried hard to stifle her laughter, but it was too funny.

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