Love's Not A Competion

The Man At The Door

The next day I reluctantly rolled out of bed and into work. Although we never had a show on New Years Day I was still needed for a few things. I sat at one of the tables in our wigs and make up room at about midday humming along with the radio as I worked. My phone chimed with a text. I wriggled it out of my pocket as I tried to avoid getting glue on my trousers.

It was from Ricky. "Hi beautiful! X" it said simply.

"Hey handsome! How's the head? X" I replied.

Almost immediately my phone rang.

"Hi," I answered the phone. "Was my text too loud?"

"Shh, don't shout! My head's banging. I'm never drinking again." He replied weakly, his voice low and heavy with sleep.

"Have you just got up?" I asked.

"Yeah, I know it's midday but I'm ill. I'm allowed to stay in bed." he muttered.

"It's self inflicted!" I laughed.

"I know, I know!" he sighed. "I'm sure I'd feel better if you were to mop my fevered brow and kiss me better."

"Ooh, cheeky!" I laughed. "I wish I could but I'm at work. Someone's got to stick things to other things and I chose to do it months before I knew I was going to your party."

"Do you want to do something on Tuesday?" he asked. "I've got a meeting all morning about the new music video but I can do late afternoon and evening? Unless you're working."

"Fortunately that's my day off this week!" I grinned. "Shall we say afternoon? You can let me know when you finish and I'll meet you somewhere."

"I can't wait!" he told me, I could hear the happiness in his still sleepy voice. "I promised myself I'd play this cool but I just couldn't help myself. I was going to try that thing where you wait a day and then send some casual text message but I couldn't. You've got to stop me if I'm coming on too strong."

"You're not coming on too strong." I reassured him. "Hey, this is getting very deep for someone who's just woken up. The most I manage is a few grunts until I've had a good strong cup of tea."

"Oo, that's what I fancy! A nice cuppa." he cooed, this Yorkshire accent at it's broadest. "I'll let you get back to sticking stuff."

"Stay hydrated and try to eat something before you take any painkillers." I told him.

"Yes mother!" he sighed.

I laughed at his cheeky comment. "Hope you feel better soon, pet."

We said our goodbyes and I got back to work, smiling and feeling a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. Or was that hunger?

Late that afternoon I got home to Tibby still asleep where I left her on the sofa. Normally I'd try to make her get some exercise but for today I'd let her sleep. She sleepily meowed a greeting as I cuddled up next to her and flicked the tv on. I didn't really watch anything as my mind couldn't stay away from Ricky. The late night and early morning, ok only a few hours earlier than Ricky's, was starting to hit me now that I was relaxed. I soon joined Tibby in the land of sleep.

The next day I turned up at work at the usual time, signed in next to my name and chatted a little with Sarah, the stage door keeper at the theatre. She was in her sixties and about half a foot shorter than me but always full of happiness.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" she gasped. "A few things came for you. Gus was meant to give you it yesterday. Daft bleeder must have forgot."

She reached across the desk, picked up two red roses and handed them to me.