A Cornish Affair

Now What?

Laying on the sofa Rosie kicked both her legs in the air and let out a quiet scream. The behaviour of an excited teenager, no, a woman in her thirties apparently.  He was following her. But for Rosie it was the exhilaration that the man from Cornwall was following her. The realisation that he was the lead singer of a band came second. She sat up, wondering what to do next. She felt her stomach rubble. Food first, planning her next move, second.

Walking into to kitchen,  Rosie opened the microwave and took out the lasagna she'd put in fifteen minutes before. It was warm enough. Putting it on to a plate and collecting a fork, she sat at the table staring at her phone whilst eating her first mouthful.

________

Well, Ricky was surprised to say the least.  She must have just been online as he was. They now followed each other. Rosie had sent the last message; that meant it must him to message next. But what would sending another message mean?  Surely it would be affirming that he wanted to get to know Rosie. Nothing wrong with that surely.  If she didn't want to get to know him she wouldn't reply.  He told himself to stop over thinking it. It was a message

__________

Rosie had put her phone down.  She sat in silence, thinking.  That was as far as it would go she was sure.  She'd said thank you, he'd liked her comment. She would be fooling herself to expect anything else. The excitement and joy of ten minutes ago had now been replaced by a sense of disappointment. She didn't want to stalk him, make him think she was hassling him. It was another part of the story to tell Tina on Friday night; when Lee wasn't around obviously. 

Her phone buzzed and her head snapped towards it. A direct message on twitter. Butterflies rose through her stomach, fluttering in anticipation as her hand reached out and opened it.

My pleasure. Sorry again to have embarrassed you. How's are you?  Busy day at school?

A question. He wanted to engage her in a conversation.  The thought of him sitting somewhere thinking of her, typing a message played on her mind.
She had to reply.

Same old, same old! The kids are all still talking about your visit. They really enjoyed it. How about you? Is it busy in the world of popular music?

Her message brought a smile to his face. The world of popular music! Her words reminded him how she just hadn't realised who he was.

"Ricky, food's here" Vijay shouted out into the garden. Still smiling, Ricky made his way indoors.

"You look happier than you did earlier!" Simon said as he watched Ricky tuck into his food. Ricky slapped him on the back.

"No point moping is there?" he grabbed a coke from the fridge and disappeared back out into the courtyard. Sitting at a picnic bench, he felt a wave of disappointment as Simon followed him out. Answering Rosie would have to wait, unfortunately.

_________

Rosie had gone back to the sofa,  her phone held fast in her hand. He hadn’t replied.  She read her message again. She hadn't been offensive had she? Written something she shouldn't have done?  No, there was nothing wrong that she could see.  But her stomach had twisted and she regretted replying.  She shouldn't have answered so quickly. She may have come across as desperate.

Rosie turned on the television to distract herself,  but her brain couldn't stop analysing the situation. He might be busy,  she told herself. Or on stage. Or being interviewed somewhere. That was the sort of thing that happened to people like Ricky.  But then her brain fought back.  Did popstars really live like that? He'd seemed so normal in Cornwall, no heirs and graces. The boy next-door type. Oh well, that was a lesson learnt.  Don't get involved on tweeter with a celebrity. She thought she might as well go for a bath.