Imperfect Strangers Read Online Free PDF Page B

part of the title could be no more perfect; I can only hope it is another sign.
    Mother’s voice has been vicious for as long as I can remember, but never more so than over the past few days, victoriously filling me with doubt. Sally’s smile will make it al l right though and confirm that I didn’t imagine this in the first place. If she doesn’t smile at me then I’ll know. It will be hard, but I’ll move on, return to my prior acceptance of never ending solitariness. So I’m sitting here, behind the desk, waiting, my eye catching on the word reception mirrored in the polished surface. Eight-thirty-nine. She’ll be here soon. Arthur returns, approaching the desk with a steaming mug of tea. He probably wants me to give up the seat, but he can wait.
    “Not in any rush to get off then, Keith?”
    “No.” I look up and catch Arthur looking over my shoulder, before returning my focus to the glass doors, to the wind-blown leaves and the steps leading down to the street.
    Someone has borrowed this library book before me and folded down various page corners. I find such vandalism intolerable. The books should be checked on each return and examined for damage. Some people even write in them! They should be fined, and then banned from borrowing any more books. People cause damage and get away with it. Anything can be used as a marker, so why spoil the book? I place a library slip into the crease where the pages meet, before closing it and placing it on the desk.
    “Good book?” Arthur leans in and scans the title. “Singer isn’t she? Wife likes her, I think.”
    Arthur’s okay, but he’s a bit nosy, always asking how I am, or what I’ve been up to over the weekend. I slide the book from the desk and slip it into my bag.
    “You like her then?”
    “My favourite singer.” The past few days have made this statement a truth. I don’t see his reaction as my eyes are firmly fixed on the glass doors and the leaf-strewn vista beyond. “Did you know,” I continue, seeing it as an opportunity to practice, “she was only thirteen when her debut single, blue , was released? And by the age of twenty-four she had sold over thirty-seven million albums? She was born on August 28th, 1982, in Jackson Mississippi.”
    “An d my specialised subject is... Memorised the whole book, have yer?” Arthur chuckles. He picks up his tea when I give no answer. It must be too hot, because he puts the mug to his mouth and pauses for a moment before placing it back on the counter without taking a sip. “You should come to my local, join our quiz team. What was it you were reading about last week? Lighthouses, wasn’t it? Yes. Saw the book poking out of yer bag.”
    I pretend to not hear and continue to gaze beyond the glass. Half my mind is elsewhere: rehearsing the text in the book. August 28th, 1982 . August 28th, 1982 . Jackson Mississippi . If she smiles, I’ll talk to her about Leann Rimes. And then I’ll ask her.
    “Not that I were snoopin’ or nowt,” Arthur says, as if he knows I’m only pretending to not listen. “I just saw it like, when yer were fillin’ in yer time sheet.” Once again Arthur picks up his mug. It will still be too hot. “Any reason?” Arthur slurps at the tea, sucking more air than liquid. “Any reason, that yer hanging back, like? Only, you’d normally get off home straight away.”
    I don’t look at him. “Meeting someone.”
    “Oh, right. Right ... Anyone special?”
    “What?”
    “The person you’re meeting?”
    “What about her?”              
    “A she then?”
    “Yes.”
    “Is it anyone special?”
    “Yes, very. Erm...” What should I tell him? “Girlfriend.”
    “Girlfriend, eh ? Right ... Good for you. Tea’s too hot.” Arthur places his mug on the reception counter before picking up a rich tea biscuit and biting off the edge so he can dunk it. “What’s she like then? Bugger!”
    I pull my eyes away from the door and smirk at Arthur trying to scoop the