Don't Call Me Baby

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

What? No Dining Room?

When I got home mum was out. Usually she cooked and if I was late she would leave it in the oven. I couldn't smell any food so I searched the kitchen. Nothing. I immediately thought of going to see Emm, but then remembered I wasn't talking to her either. I was desperate to chat over my day with her too, but stubbornly I refused to give in so easily. She had really upset me and I needed to make my upset-ness felt. I resolved to take some clothes down to the launderette and order a takeaway to eat, while I watching my clothes go round and round in the machines. Better than the crap on the TV I thought. I grabbed my bag of laundry and my book on Paulo Ucello and left the flat.

I was into the third chapter of my book when my phone rang. It was Julian.

"Hi, Lola here," I answered.

"Lola, Julian here." I sometimes wondered why we did this little introduction thing on the phone. Of course it was me he had dialed my phone; of course it was him my caller ID told me that. "Where are you? It's noisy in the background."

"Launderette," I responded.

"Launderette?" He repeated curiously.

"Yeah, you know that place you go to wash your clothes," come to think of it I bet he didn't have to wash his own clothes, and even if he did he would have a machine at home. My mum's apartment was too small for a washing machine and dryer, and just about everyone who lived in Hardy went to the launderette. "Oh," he was surprised.

Yup, as I thought he obviously didn't do every day normal things like the rest of us mere mortals. Adonis did not do laundry, not even his own. I gave him a debrief on my conversation with Sharon and he was interested in who was the source of the rumours and could I try to find out? Sure I would try, I assured him. He asked me where the launderette was as he had a file he wanted to drop off to me with some background information I would need for the weekend. Also, the courier company refused to deliver to my home address, that figures, I thought, and he wanted to drop the dress off with me too.

"Seriously Julian," I complained. "My brain is a bit fried already can't I have a night off?" Silence. Guess not, and I gave him the address of the launderette.

I was wearing a pair of baggy old sweat pants and an even baggier jumper, my laundry uniform, when he arrived. There were a few other people in the launderette and they all turned their eyes to him. He hadn't changed from work and I must say he looked like an alien from Mars in our launderette - all shiny and expensive.

"Julian, next time you come watch me do my laundry can I suggest you might wanna dress down," I advised him. He looked surprised but then realised the sense of what I was saying as by now the looks he was getting were of jealous hostility.

"Quite frankly," I added, "you're a walking advert for a mugging." I had begun to fold my clothes from the dryer and he had seated himself on the uncomfortable wooden bench. I thought he had come to drop a file off not stay and chit chat. I gave him his cue to leave, "where's the file?" He patted the file, which was sitting on top of a red box beside him but didn't seem to move. Hmm a bit of a harder hint might be required. "Cool, you don't have to stay."

At this point I was removing my underwear and I seriously didn't want him to see it, but he still didn't move. "I thought we could go for a drink and I could let you know about what I found out," he asked me from behind my back. "I did say we would be partners and exchanging information goes both ways," he added. Well that was a move in the right direction. I suppose a quick drink wouldn't hurt and I was curious to know what he got up to, while I was busy getting into the swing of office gossip with the girls. "Sure," I hid my underwear as best I could shoving it into the laundry bag as quickly as possible, but I think he saw it anyway.