I was going out of a sense of duty; I’d won the tickets in the charity raffle, and I knew people would ask about it in the office.
I had been drinking sour white wine, warm and tainted by the plastic glasses the pub made us drink from. What savages they must think us!
Billy had insisted on buying it, to thank me for inviting him. There was no question of it being a date. The very notion was ridiculous.
The lights went down. Billy hadn’t wanted to watch the other acts, but I was adamant.
You never know if you’ll be bearing witness as a new star emerges, never know who’s going to walk onto the stage and set it alight.
And then he did. I stared at him. He was light and heat. He blazed. Everything he came into contact with would be changed.
I sat forward on my seat, edged closer. At last. I’d found him.
Now that fate had unfurled my future, I simply had to find out more about him; the singer, the answer.
Before I tackled the horror that was the month-end accounts,
I thought I’d have a quick look at a few sites—Argos, John Lewis—to see how much a computer would cost.
I suppose I could have come into the office during the weekend and used one,
but there was a high risk that someone else would be around and ask what I was doing.
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