like a lot of money on me already. I don’t want James to spend all of his money on me because he feels like he owes me for saving his life, which I only did under fraudulent circumstances.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine with what I already have.”
He looks at me, brows raised, and says with absolute certainty, “I’m buying you some shoes, Lucyna, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Then he moves off before I can attempt a shot at resisting and, for a man currently on crutches, he’s moving pretty swiftly, might I add. So I just dutifully follow along behind him.
I manage to get him down to two pairs of shoes. Then, as we’re leaving the shoe shop, James clears his throat and says, somewhat awkwardly, “Er – Lucyna, do you erm – well you're gonna need some – underwear, aren’t you? You know, like – bras and stuff.”
Underwear, of course, humans always wear this beneath their clothes. I regard his flushed face, his uncomfortable demeanour, not seeing the source of his embarrassment and without, even bothering to contest over the money, knowing it to be a fruitless exercise, I say, “Yes, I will need some.”
It’s odd to see James like this. He’s usually so self-assured, so sure. It’s incredibly endearing. It makes me want to reach out and run my fingertips across his glowing cheek.
“ Right, well La Senza’s just there,” he says, voice some somewhat gruff. I follow his gaze to a shop across the other side of the busy road which has women’s underwear artfully displayed in its window. “Here’s my card.” He pushes his credit card into my hand. “Get whatever you need. My pin number’s –” He moves closer to me, his body almost pressed against mine, only the thin layers of our clothes and a sliver of air separate us, as he whispers in my ear, “One, three, three, seven.” His breath blows over my neck, setting my body on high alert. He moves back, looking down at me with opaque eyes which instantly clear. “I’m just gonna go in here.” He points to a shop advertising DVDs and computer games in its window. “I’ll meet you outside La Senza in fifteen, okay?”
And he’s gone, leaving me standing in the middle of the busy street, my body buzzing, kindling, practically spitting off flames. I mentally shake myself into the now, and, with his credit card in hand, slowly walk toward La Senza.
The woman in the shop is really helpful. She asks if I know my sizes, to which I obviously reply no. So she takes me into the changing area and measures me with a tape measure, and then brings bras for me to try on. I just buy the ones she brought me and the pants to match, and also some sleepwear – well if I’m acting like I sleep I may as well go the whole hog and dress the part too. And after paying, recalling just how James had done it, I go outside to find him leant up against the shop window, crutches resting under his arms, a bag in his hand, waiting for me.
“ All done?” He smiles, back to his usual, certain self.
“ Yes, thank you,” I say handing his credit card back to him.
Lastly we go to the supermarket. It’s packed full of humans. I steer the trolley around whilst James walks alongside, filling it with food and toiletries he says I’ll need. I just agree, nodding in what I hope are the right places, praying I get it right and come across as just like any other normal human being would.
We take a taxi back to James’ house, well my home now too. I put the food away in the kitchen whilst James rests on the sofa. The shopping trip really tired him out. Then I put my new clothes away in the wardrobe in my bedroom.
I’m on my way down the stairs when I hear James on the telephone in the living room. His voice terse, strained, as he says, “It’s my house. I can do as I please and after what she did for me – well it doesn’t even fucking measure up. I’m not gonna argue with you about it, she’s staying here, end of . . . I know you are but – . . .
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine with what I already have.”
He looks at me, brows raised, and says with absolute certainty, “I’m buying you some shoes, Lucyna, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Then he moves off before I can attempt a shot at resisting and, for a man currently on crutches, he’s moving pretty swiftly, might I add. So I just dutifully follow along behind him.
I manage to get him down to two pairs of shoes. Then, as we’re leaving the shoe shop, James clears his throat and says, somewhat awkwardly, “Er – Lucyna, do you erm – well you're gonna need some – underwear, aren’t you? You know, like – bras and stuff.”
Underwear, of course, humans always wear this beneath their clothes. I regard his flushed face, his uncomfortable demeanour, not seeing the source of his embarrassment and without, even bothering to contest over the money, knowing it to be a fruitless exercise, I say, “Yes, I will need some.”
It’s odd to see James like this. He’s usually so self-assured, so sure. It’s incredibly endearing. It makes me want to reach out and run my fingertips across his glowing cheek.
“ Right, well La Senza’s just there,” he says, voice some somewhat gruff. I follow his gaze to a shop across the other side of the busy road which has women’s underwear artfully displayed in its window. “Here’s my card.” He pushes his credit card into my hand. “Get whatever you need. My pin number’s –” He moves closer to me, his body almost pressed against mine, only the thin layers of our clothes and a sliver of air separate us, as he whispers in my ear, “One, three, three, seven.” His breath blows over my neck, setting my body on high alert. He moves back, looking down at me with opaque eyes which instantly clear. “I’m just gonna go in here.” He points to a shop advertising DVDs and computer games in its window. “I’ll meet you outside La Senza in fifteen, okay?”
And he’s gone, leaving me standing in the middle of the busy street, my body buzzing, kindling, practically spitting off flames. I mentally shake myself into the now, and, with his credit card in hand, slowly walk toward La Senza.
The woman in the shop is really helpful. She asks if I know my sizes, to which I obviously reply no. So she takes me into the changing area and measures me with a tape measure, and then brings bras for me to try on. I just buy the ones she brought me and the pants to match, and also some sleepwear – well if I’m acting like I sleep I may as well go the whole hog and dress the part too. And after paying, recalling just how James had done it, I go outside to find him leant up against the shop window, crutches resting under his arms, a bag in his hand, waiting for me.
“ All done?” He smiles, back to his usual, certain self.
“ Yes, thank you,” I say handing his credit card back to him.
Lastly we go to the supermarket. It’s packed full of humans. I steer the trolley around whilst James walks alongside, filling it with food and toiletries he says I’ll need. I just agree, nodding in what I hope are the right places, praying I get it right and come across as just like any other normal human being would.
We take a taxi back to James’ house, well my home now too. I put the food away in the kitchen whilst James rests on the sofa. The shopping trip really tired him out. Then I put my new clothes away in the wardrobe in my bedroom.
I’m on my way down the stairs when I hear James on the telephone in the living room. His voice terse, strained, as he says, “It’s my house. I can do as I please and after what she did for me – well it doesn’t even fucking measure up. I’m not gonna argue with you about it, she’s staying here, end of . . . I know you are but – . . .
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