The Budding Roses

River life

Tuesday 22nd July

Master detective that he is, Liam has been quick to sense the change in relations between Harry and me, or perhaps he overheard Flora's prophetic words? Still, swift like a hawk, he's seen to it that he is once more aligned within the boundaries of my fragile world, unable to resist jumping right in to save me and distract my anxious mind from its heavy burden, by offering me the pleasure of his heroic company.

Now of course I would ordinarily have to reject such an offer, not wanting to provide even the hint of encouragement that he's gagging to receive, but maybe this time his company might actually help me forget about my woes? For still I don't know who I'm angrier with; Harry or Natasha? Perhaps it's Natasha? As much as Harry's words have spurned me, betrayed me, I'm livid at how readily she has shown her allegiance to him, and so I must accept that Liam might actually be the only friend that I've got left. What a depressing thought, but as the facts stand he is the only person to have displayed any loyalty these past few days, and for that I'm willing to give him just a slither of a chance.

'We should go rowing?'

Of all the ridiculous ideas, this has to be the most stupid to emit from his deluded mouth. 'I heard you telling Harry how much you enjoyed it, and that you wanted to go on the next sunny day we had. Well, luckily for you I can spare you Harry's company and still give you the rowing part.'

Saturday 26th July

'Let me row!' I pushed Liam aside, causing the boat to sway like a pendulum.

'Be careful! You'll flood the boat and we'll sink,' he panicked as the left side reached near submergence with the waterline.

'Never mind sinking, I'll throw you over board if you don't let me row.' I had been too quick to cast him in a positive light. Just because he'd brought Harry in to the argument shouldn't have been a reason to let him talk me in to this awful outing, especially if all he ever intended to do was have me sit there like a lump of coal. 'I can do it, so you steer instead.' If he's really that interested in river life then he should just sit back, observe quietly, and be graceful enough to let me vent my frustration on the rickety oars.

'You're such a modern day Sylvia Plath,' he announced, whilst narrowly steering us away from an emergency mooring in the surrounding habitat.

'I'm a what?' I pulled at a twig that had caught in my hair.

'A modern day Sylvia Plath.'

I had heard him correctly. Why must people repeatedly insist on comparing me with a dead American poet? I'm not dead, I'm not American and I'm certainly not a poet!

'I will admit that in the absence of an oven to stick my head in, drowning in this river is currently an appealing option, but other than a mutual interest in suicide, I am categorically not, in any shape or form, anything like Sylvia Plath. I don't even like poetry.'

'Your eyes are like pools,' he continued.

Oh good Lord, if he's going to start reciting poetry then an emergency escape in to the river really was the only option for survival.

'Do you know what your problem is?'

Why must there always be a problem? Why don't people ever start a sentence by stating how fantastic something is?

'Enlighten me.'

'You need a boyfriend.' Oh where is the bread knife when I need it?

'No I do NOT need a boyfriend,' I had to be quick to make this forcefully clear, before he suggested himself again, 'I can't think of anything worse. I've got enough to contend with, what with going on holiday with everyone next week, oh and the fact that neither Harry or Natasha will speak to me, for who knows what reason, other than I felt it appropriate to defend myself in response to Harry's somewhat unexpected and over exaggerated attack on my appearance. Just thinking about how I'm to survive such an ordeal, why it's giving me a panic attack, without overloading my already fragile mind with the additional complication of a boyfriend!'

'But can't you see, that's exactly why you need a "real" boyfriend.' Still, in spite of my defence he persisted. 'As I've told you before, you need to stop wasting your time hanging around with Harry, and find a man with some maturity. The first problem is that Harry's way too young for you.'

'But he's the same age as you.' Ha, got you! 'And will you stop making it sound like I'm in love with him. You couldn't be further from the truth. It's making me feel ill, and if you don't shut up then I'll puke right all over your new jeans.'

With both of us needing to regain our strengths following the choppy waters of the river, and with the threat of my impending sea sickness, an end was promptly put to the days rowing exercise, with Liam suggesting that we take tea at one of the riverside cafes.

'We should make a habit of this. Just you and me; going out to eat and drink together.'

I choked on my tuna and cucumber sandwiches, as at last I unravelled the truth; I was on a date with Liam. He'd set-up this whole thing based on his incorrect assumptions of what my dream date might be. He was trying to be romantic. Oh dear Lord, save me now and banish him with a poof, but if that's not possible then at the very least please don't let him make a move.

What an idiot I am. Yet again I'm thoroughly stupid not to have recognised the signs sooner. I had genuinely thought that he wanted to be my friend.

'I think it's time to go home now,' I gulped at my cup of tea.

'What's the rush?' What's the rush? You tricked me in to thinking that you cared. I should grab your head and bang it on the table!