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. I need to get back to work, Sam." and she went, leaving me standing, quite shocked. What was going on here?I went back to my place, and dug into my pile of work.For the rest of the week, I saw almost nothing of Anne. I had no opportunity to talk to her, and I was pretty sure she was doing her best to avoid me. By Friday, I knew I had to do something.On my way home, I called in at a delicatessen I knew, and a greengrocer; cheeses, salad things, ham, crusty bread ... that sort of thing, a bottle of wine, ice-cream...That evening, I knocked on her door, carrying a basket of food, and the wine, the ice-cream in a cooler...Anne answered the door; (the back door, it was a small terraced house. Like most, the front door was never used as it opened directly into the front room, ) I could tell she was reluctant to let me in."Anne, please, talk to me? Or at least, let me talk to you?"Stiffly, she stepped back and opened the door fully, so I stepped into the kitchen. She shut the door behind. He would go see her, tell her it was over and rejoin his life. If his boss noticed that he came in late, well, that was London traffic for you.When he pulled up outside her house he realised that he did not even know if she would be in. He did not even know if she had a job. Feeling slightly foolish, he walked up to her door and rang the bell. Just in case, he prepared his rejection speech. The door opened and she stood in front of him. Barefoot, clad in black Lycra bottoms and a tight top. A smile spread across her face when she saw who it was."MICK! I've missed you! Come on in"Micks resolve disappeared faster than an empty seat on the tube. Amanda turned round and headed back down the hallway. She looked back as he shut the door."I haven't heard from you, I was starting to get worried. I missed you."Mick could not tear his gaze away from her Lycra clad rear. His mind was recalling, in great detail, what had gone on last time he was in the hallway. The last vestiges of restraint.
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