Free Tequila & Tea Bags by Laura Barnard

just my towel. I still can't believe Elsie’s bathroom is downstairs, but at least it's clean. I log onto Facebook to check for messages. I’ve discovered that if I place it on the top of the fireplace I get a weak connection. I still haven’t received a reply from Janey when I know she’s seen it. My heart aches with longing. There are new pictures all over her page. More nights out, more tequila, more men. God, it looks amazing. Could she be my Peggy? Is she deliberately trying to ruin things for me? No. I shake the thought from my head. I’m just getting paranoid. That’s what living in isolation does to you.
    A knock at the door startles me out of my moping. I look at the clock. 8pm. Who the hell could that be? It's probably Elsie forgetting her key or something. For someone so God-like she’s scatty as hell. She’s at some church committee or something. The girl never stops. I’m exhausted just watching her flit in and out.
    I swing the door open, barely looking at her. ‘Forgot your keys again?’
    ‘Err, no.’ I look up, way up, into Will’s face. What the hell is he doing here?
    ‘Will!’ I shriek. I’m suddenly aware that I’m in nothing but a flimsy white towel. And it's cold. My nipples are perking up to greet him. For once could they not react to everything ?
    He rubs his hands together and breathes into them, clearly cold, his burgundy scarf obviously not doing the job. He walks past me and into the lounge without an invite. What the hell is he doing? He’s so bloody presumptuous.
    ‘Come in, why don’t you,’ I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
    ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you wouldn’t be dressed.’ He takes a slow, lazy look over my body. Pervy bastard. I start to feel my cheeks redden as a hot flush takes over me. ‘So it seems we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,’ he explains, taking his scarf off. Make yourself at home why don’t you?
    An apology? Is that what he’s here for? I didn’t think he cared what a little minion like me thought.
    ‘I don’t think it had anything to do with me. More to do with you and your head being stuck up your arse.’ I look away as I grin. One point to me.
    He balks. ‘If you could just stop being such a bitch for just one minute I could try to explain.’
    A bitch? Did he really just say that? My hands starts to shake at my sides, rage and hurt taking over. How can he call me a bitch? I’ve been called worse, but it still hurts more that it should. I push my hand through my wet hair and stand on one hip, with my eyebrows raised, challenging him.
    He sighs, clearly exasperated with me. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to apologise and thank you for breaking up that fight earlier.’
    Is this guy bi-polar? I can't keep up. Is he calling me a bitch or thanking me?
    ‘Oh, yeah. Calling me a bitch is a really good apology,’ I snap sarcastically. ‘Thanks for your help, by the way,’ I joke accusingly, a grin playing at my lips.
    His face lights up with amusement. ‘Sorry, but it was far too much fun watching you roll around on the floor with them.’
    I try to look pissed off, but I can't hold in the laugh that escapes my lips. ‘I didn’t realise those kind of things went down with old people.’
    He chuckles. It’s a beautiful sound and lights up his face. ‘Well, our Yorkshire lasses are very passionate.’ He smiles, and it’s breath taking. It pisses me off that it makes my legs wobble slightly. It’s just that I haven’t seen him be anything but hostile towards me. I ignore it and smile back. He must share the charming gene with James.
    ‘Have you had a lot of experience with the Yorkshire ladies?’ I ask, suddenly wondering about his dating history. He doesn’t act like he has a girlfriend.  
    ‘Nah,’ he says, clearly offended. ‘Well, obviously yes, but not loads.’ He looks confused and annoyed. ‘Anyway, I’m here to say thank you.’
    ‘Well, you’ve said it.’ I bob my head awkwardly, wishing he’d leave. He