Free The Mistake I Made by Paula Daly

more attuned, to another person. And then, suddenly, and without warning, their façade would fall.
    The rep would reach into his briefcase, the spell would be broken and you would realize: Ah, a salesman .
    The sharp banter of earlier cannot be continued as he is only able to sustain it for his opening pitch. At this point you might find yourself throwing in a joke to ease the discomfort. But you would be met with a dead, vacant stare. A stare that said: Does not compute.
    Henry Peachey was not like that at all. And when he looked up and said, ‘Place of birth?’ his eyes locked on mine. It was as if he’d asked me to undress.
    I was not imagining it, there was an immediate mutual attraction, and I stammered out, ‘Kendal.’ Following it with ‘How is it you don’t like Christmas? Are you anti-religion?’
    ‘I’m not against Christmas as such,’ he replied, as he typed. ‘It’s more that we seem to have reached a point in society whereby we have to spend inordinate amounts of money just to show that we love each other. I suppose it’s more that I don’t like being told what to do by the advertising industry.’ He looked up. ‘Qualifications?’
    ‘You want all of them?’
    ‘The most recent is fine.’
    ‘A BSc in Physiotherapy. I started an MSc but, you know how it is, life got in the way. Are you anti-birthdays then as well?’
    There was mischief in his eyes, and he paused before speaking. I had to look away to catch my breath. ‘I got a message from Apple last week,’ he said, ‘saying I should treat my dad to an iPad for Father’s Day. The sentiment being that if I really loved him, etc., etc., that I would fork out for one. Three hundred pounds on Father’s Day? Crazy. Do you smoke?’
    I hesitated. Then said, ‘No,’ firmly.
    ‘Never?’
    ‘Okay, sometimes when I’m drunk,’ I admitted ashamedly. ‘If I get a bit bored I do go off in search of a smoke. Not often, though.’
    ‘That counts.’
    ‘Really?’
    He nodded grimly. ‘We’ve had a couple of cases this year … the families of people who’ve been in car accidents have not been eligible for a payout upon their deaths. The policy holders claimed to be non-smokers, but because there was evidence of nicotine in the hair samples – well,’ he said, and shrugged.
    ‘That’s a bit harsh.’
    ‘The world we live in, I’m afraid. Occasional smoker,’ he murmured, as he typed.
    ‘What is this for exactly?’ I asked. Wayne had told me, but I hadn’t listened properly. Practice managers were always trying to get us to do irrelevant stuff; Magdalena the Austrian physio claimed it was simply to justify their existence. If I did half the things Wayne asked of me, I would see four less patients a day.
    ‘It’s to bring the public-liability insurance payments down.’
    ‘But we’re all insured up to a hundred million with the Chartered Society.’
    ‘That’s your individual insurance,’ he explained. ‘The company that owns this chain is also accountable if there’s an accident with a patient. By doing these extra in-depth assessments of their staff, they are able to reduce their contributions. It’s a bit like doing an advanced motoring course – you’re considered a safer driver on completion, so your car insurance is reduced.’
    I nodded.
    ‘I forgot to ask, are you married, Miss Toovey?’
    ‘Separated,’ I answered too quickly. ‘And it’s Roz.’
    He had such beautiful skin. And a mouth so soft that when I gazed at it I got a surge of longing all the way down to my—
    ‘Okay, Roz,’ he said, ‘any operations, medical procedures?’
    ‘I had a car crash four years ago and suffered a pneumothorax.’
    ‘Pneumo—?’
    ‘Apologies, I thought you were medical. A collapsed lung,’ I said. ‘I broke my arm, too, but I don’t think that’s relevant.’
    ‘Any operations, any surgeries performed outside the UK?’ he asked.
    I paused.
    He raised his head and looked at me with concern.
    When I didn’t