A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION

5

I shake her paw, and am surprised by her grip.

Fucking hell not even a whole conversation spoken and I can already tell she means business

"I'm Blake." I reciprocate the response, warming up to her friendliness already. It's like it's a contagious disease.

A thought flashes across my mind, and I'm quick to catch it before it goes and buggers off.

"You said you've seen me before?" I ask, picking up on a minute little detail in the library if sentences she shat out Infront of me.

She ponders, looking away from my face for a moment, as if searching for where she supposedly saw me before in her memory.

"Ah yes," she pipes, sudden retrieval plastered across her face, which I've noticed isn't very done up - little makeup, a nose piercing and some subtle defining I think is the right term - "I saw you walking with Daryll!"

The loud announcement of that name arouses some suspicion, but it goes mostly ignored by the two of us, Katherine especially.

"When was that?" I dig deeper, hunting for the root of her nosiness.

"Last night, outside Anderson's!"

What on Earth was she doing around there at that time of night? I don't even have a complete answer to why I was there in the first place

"What were you doing around there at that time?" My voice speaks for my thoughts, making me cringe a little at my own nosiness.

"I needed a cigarette break." She sighs, turning her shoulder to check for watchers, before sliding a cigarette packet out of her jacket pocket to show me.

"I'm not a big fan of fags myself, they-" I try to explain, before I'm cut off.

"-don't use that word."

The once arguably overly happy voice is replaced by grim seriousness, as the scowl nailed to her face bored a great hot hole into my conscious.

"Alright, fuck. It's another word for cigarettes!" I defend myself, suddenly losing any want to continue this first-basis friendliness with this person.

She dismissively waves a paw at my face, "tsk tsk I know that. I have gay friends, it might seem rude."

And I thought my moral compass was decently placed

Her demeanor calms, indicated by her shoulders falling and a smile creeping back across her lips.

"I'm sorry, then."

"It's all good!" The happy-go-lucky persona is back at it, and I make a physical withdrawal from the conversation, concentrating on the grooves and chips in the wood on the table beneath me.

God almighty that was painful.

Before this Katherine can speak again, someone else walks into the room, a grown lady this time, much to my pleasure.

I'm all for being sociable, but Jesus H she did not know when to stop talking

This newcomer, who certainly isn't really a newcomer at all, is much older in appearance to the other staff members I've seen around. Greying hair adorns her scalp, tired wrinkles under her eyes and deep laughter likes make her face appear much older than I think she is. But the glasses around her neck suspended by a string don't help with that image at all, I might add.

"That's Mrs Donory." I feel a nudge to my shoulder, obviously fom the chatty leopard to my left, "she's this old crone that noone really likes, but is nice to me. She might like you aswell, you're quite and all. Don't talk much, do you? I don't mind people who don't talk much, it makes it easier to listen to them when they do speak, because the words have more meaning-"