‘A lot of children use that hall,’ I say defensively. ‘I wanted to make it perfect for them.’
He takes my hand. ‘I’m not criticising you, Annie. It’s a great thing to care so much about other people and making them happy. But don’t be too hard on yourself in the process. And don’t be too hard on other people when they don’t live up to your standards.’
‘I don’t care what other people do,’ I say. ‘We all make our own choices.’
‘And I’m sure yours will always be good ones. It’s one of the things I really like about you – how much you care.’
He smiles at me, and my heart skips a beat. For whatever reason, he’s someone whose good opinion of me matters desperately. But that doesn’t seem to be an issue. He seems to like me just as I am. Which is a good thing because I know I’m falling for him very quickly.
He breaks the silence. ‘Have we finished? Would you like to find something to eat?’
I point to my backpack. ‘You don’t get off that lightly. This was only the beginning. You can eat when we get there.’
And, ignoring all his questions and increasingly ridiculous speculations, I lead him back towards the bus stop.
Chapter Seven
Irefuse to tell him where we’re headed, despite his repeated questions. He attacks me in various ingenious ways during the journey, but I don’t answer.
‘You’re like a toddler,’ I complain at last. ‘Can’t you wait for ten more minutes to find out?’
‘Sorry,’ he says with a contrite expression. He waits another thirty seconds before asking plaintively, ‘Are we there yet?’
‘No wonder your teachers didn’t like you,’ I say.
‘I never said that.’
‘Yes, you did. You said it earlier on when we were talking about our reports.’
He shakes his head. ‘I said I didn’t get great reports, not that my teachers didn’t like me.’
‘There doesn’t seem much difference to me.’
‘Maybe that’s because you equate success and approval.’
I consider this. ‘I don’t think so. I like to do my best. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘What would our society do without perfectionists and high achievers?’
I don’t answer. I’ve always taken it for granted that doing my absolute best is a good thing, whereas Alex seems to regard it as a bit of a joke.
‘Have I upset you?’ he asks gently.
‘Not really. But I always have the feeling you’re laughing at me.’
‘I laugh at everything.’
‘There must be some things you take seriously,’ I say.
‘I take you very seriously,’ he says.
‘Not noticeably.’
He squeezes my hand. ‘I’m sorry. I always make jokes when I’m nervous.’
I look at him in surprise. ‘Nervous? About me?’
‘Of course! Do you realise how nerve racking these past few months have been for me? First of all, I meet the girl of my dreams. Then she’s whisked away and refuses to give me her number –’