Bonfires

Janet stared at the half match in her hand with a sinking heart. Her flatmates, Summer and Dee, stood with whole matches, looking relieved and guilty.

Janet forced a smile, even though she felt sick. "The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?" Because if she stopped to think about it, her legs would refuse to carry her.

Summer and Dee's faces scrunched as they tried to think of something to say. But the plain fact was, it had to be done, they were all equally scared, and Janet got the short match.

Janet walked out before the other two found any words. Moments later, she stood outside the door of the downstairs flat.

She'd rather have poked a rattlesnake with a short stick than touched the door bell. She clenched and unclenched her fists several times, shut her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and rang it.

All too soon the door opened. Gareth Docherty smiled his most charming smile. “How lovely to see you, Janet.”


Oh no! He was feeling flirty. OK, so he looked after himself and his eyes were still blue, but he must be over sixty, for goodness' sake. Janet was nineteen, and she didn't want to know.

Stick to the point, she thought. “Um, Mr. Docherty. We were wondering if you could possibly cut down on the smoky bonfires so close to the house on Saturdays?” Damn, it was coming out in a pathetic little squeak. But she'd promised to deliver the message. “With us being at work all week, it's when we like to hang out the washing, you see.”

Gareth's smile switched off to be replaced by wide open eyes and mouth, as though she'd put on a chicken suit and laid an egg.

To be continued...