I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twenty-Two

When I spoke my voice seemed quite high-pitched, 'Um, I was just looking about for a gift. For a friend. She shops here an awful lot.' I hoped to hell I was sounding English, because I knew these types of women didn't care for frightful Americans stinking up the place.

Miss Snooty-Blonde asked as though she didn't believe me, 'Does she really?' She said "really" like "rarely".

'Yes. Her name's Alexandra Pristin, she's a professor at Locke.'

Her expression fell, 'Oh. Yes, she does come in occasionally.'

I almost sighed with relief. 'So, I thought I'd pick up a little something for her.'

'We have a lovely collection of angora sweaters just in. Last shipment before Christmas.'

'Oh, really?' I tried not to mimic her accent, but it was difficult not to. She sounded like a parody of an upper class snob.

'Yes.' (She said "Yes" with an "n" on the beginning, "Nyes") and drifted away on her stilettos. I followed to the long table laid out with jumpers in varying hues. They were so yummy looking lying there that I wanted to put my face in them.

I said, 'These are quite lovely.'

She gave me a sneer, or it could have been her estimation of a smile, 'Nyes, they are.' She drifted off to do whatever it was those sorts of women do when they're not glaring down their nose at you and I ran my fingertips along one of the sweaters, a black one. Alex would look smashing in a black angora sweater with her pale hair and light eyes. I surreptitiously checked the price tag and almost dropped the garment. The more I looked at it, the more I wanted to see Alex in it, but it'd take almost everything I had saved. I chewed my bottom lip, imagining the look on her face when she saw it and imagining the look on Miss Snooty-Blonde's face when I actually purchased the thing. The thing about those people is that their faces don't register an emotion like shock—as it's bred out of them—but I'm sure she was taken aback when I chose one in what I guessed would be Alex's size and took it up to the till.

As nonchalantly as I could manage I said, 'I'll take this one, please.'

One perfectly tweezed eyebrow raised a fraction, 'Oh? You're certain about that?'

I sighed in a bored way, 'Yes. It'll do,' and handed over more money than I'd spent on any one item before. I hoped Alex'd like it. I hoped she'd like it a whole bunch.

As soon as I was back outside in the further dropping temperature I began to wonder if I'd done the right thing. I only had about twenty pounds for Noni's present and that wasn't very much, not for the woman who'd made it possible for me to meet Alex in the first place. I decided I'd make her a nice handmade card to go with whatever I found for her. It was then that the clocks began chiming and I realised it was seven. I was late to meet Robert!

I looked both ways to get my bearings and dashed off in what I thought was the correct direction, only to discover a block later that I'd been mistaken. I ran back the way I'd come, but it was dark and I couldn't remember the name of the street the pub was on, let alone where it was in relation to where I was. I sat on the kerb, only a bit upset over this turn of events—at least I wouldn't have to attend that party. My new plan became finding a warm place to stay for a few hours. I decided to head back to the library at the college. When I'd gone a couple of blocks a car pulled up beside me and someone shouted my name. It was Robert.

'God, Catherine, what are you doing so far over on this side of town?'

'Um, I got lost.'

'Oh, I was running late anyway. Just on my way to the pub to get you. Hop in.' He leaned across the seat and pushed the door open. I climbed in regretfully; I'd been relieved when I thought I'd escaped a party. He noticed the bag with Alex's sweater in it, 'Been splashing out?'