I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twenty

'Hello, girls. Have you enjoyed having Catherine all to yourselves today?' Then she called to me, 'And how was your day?' Crossing the threshold into the kitchen she blinked, 'Is that an apron you're wearing?' She placed her bag on the table.

I held the apron out to each side and curtsied, 'Yup. I cooked. I hope you don't mind.'

She sounded surprised, 'Of course not. What a treat.'

'Don't say that until you try it.'

She snorted, removed her coat, and ran her hand through her hair, 'What did you prepare?'

'Chicken and vegetables. The chicken is baking in a white sauce and I made rice as well.'

'It sounds lovely.' Pulling out a chair, she sat down at the table, 'I thought about ringing to see if you wanted take-away because I didn't quite feel up to cooking tonight, but I got sidetracked every time I reached for the phone. Do you ever have days like that?'

'Where life gets in the way of the one thing you're trying to do? Absolutely.' She propped her chin up on her hand, closed her eyes and sighed, exhausted, so I poured a glass of wine and placed it gently on the table, 'Here you are.'

She opened her eyes and looked at the white wine as though it appeared there by magic then she looked at me in the same way. She asked quizzically, 'What made you do that?'

'What do you mean?' I thought maybe I'd done something wrong.

'I was thinking I could really use a glass of...' she sniffed the wine, 'this, and here it is.' She cocked an eyebrow at me, 'Have you been reading my mind?'

I feigned guilt, 'I'm sorry. It was just lying out there in the open like that.' I removed my apron and sat in the chair closest to her. She took a sip and sighed again. I asked, 'Hard day?'

'Long, that's all. Several times I looked over to your window and was reminded that you weren't there today, yet a few minutes later I'd do it again.'

'Like when you forget your watch, but keep looking at your wrist?'

She smiled, 'Exactly.' She had another sip of wine, 'Oh, I have something for you.' After rummaging around in her bag she brought out a small scrap of paper. 'Kenneth, Professor Blackburn, gave this to me—said he saw it in the paper and it put him in mind of you.'

It was an advertisement for a writing contest. Any British citizen could enter and entries would be sorted by type of writing (poetry, short fiction, etc) and by age group (I'd be in the sixteen to twenty-five group). There were prizes. The deadline was 15 December and the winners would be notified by post in March. After reading it over I asked, 'Do you think I should enter?'

She nodded, 'If you'd like to, of course. You could submit some of the things you've been working on. I'm certain they're brilliant, even though I haven't seen them.' She fiddled with her earring and regarded me from the corner of her eye.

I played thick, 'Gee, would you like to see my stories?'

'Wow. Huh. I don't...This is so unexpected. Well, I suppose so.' She dropped the false surprise, 'If you'd only give me something to read I wouldn't have to twist your arm so.'

I shrugged, 'I don't know, I find it difficult to believe that you like my writing.'

She heaved a sigh, 'Catherine, for Christmas I'm going to get you some self-esteem, is that all right?'

I snorted, 'Okay, but that stuff usually doesn't stay with me. Just rolls right off.'

'Then I'll have to find some of that permanent self-esteem.' She had another sip of wine.