Chapter 3

“Always,” replied Paul. “Now, back to me. Do you think it’s weird that a guy starts catching my bus and happens to focus every second of his journey on me?”

“What I think,” said Rick, pouring the hot water, “is that you’re becoming Peggy Paranoid.”

“I don’t think I am. You don’t know what it’s like. And besides anything else, it’s bloody rude. Nobody likes being stared at.”

Rick brought the coffees to the kitchen table and set them down. “I do.”

“Yeah, but look at you.”

Rick poked out his tongue. “Listen, why don’t you talk to him? Ask what the fuck his problem is. Tell him you don’t appreciate being gawked at. Or…” He took a sip of coffee and held up a thick, hairy finger to indicate there was more to follow. “You could catch a later bus. Or ride a bike to work. You could stand to lose…”

“Uh uh uh,” said Paul. “Pot calling kettle.”

“My point is there are tonnes of things you can do. I can’t see there’s a problem. Just deal with it.”