Page 41 of The App Trap
I walked around to the back of the lorry and saw a guy dressed in what looked like stripy pyjama bottoms bending over a box of purple lilies. “Hi,” I said, alerting him to my presence.
He turned around, and the Maoam I was chewing on nearly dropped out of my mouth. Fuck, I knew this bloke. I’d been messaging him on one of my many apps and not in a clean, wholesome way, if you get my drift.
“All right, mate,” he said, smiling vacantly at me.
You have got to be shitting my melons, man. Pleasedon’t recognise me, please don’t recognise me, please don’t recognise me.
“You Danny, yeah?” he said.
Oh, what’s this? He doesn't bloody well recognise me. If I say ‘Yeah’ and he says something along the lines of‘Nice to meet you’then my suspicions will be confirmed.
“Nice to meet you. Right, I gotta shoot off. Just move them boxes indoors, then you're done, mate.”
“Right,” I said, giving him a, ‘Don’t you actually recognise me?’ head tilt.
“You all right, mate?” he asked.
“Y-yeah. Fine. So, um… up to anything nice this afternoon?” I said.
“Nah, just a… date. Anyway, see you later.”
I nodded, slowly. That hesitation said it all. I knew exactly what kind of ‘date’ he was going on. Ah well, good luck to him.
He grabbed his kagoule from inside the shop and said his goodbyes. Well, Mum seemed to like him and he hadn’t messed her around as far as I could see either, so I guess he can stay.
“He seems nice,” I said.
“Oh, he’s lovely. Works so hard as well. Poor fella, he’s got this thing called Proso… something or other. It’s where you can’t recognise a person from their face. Confuses poor Wesley no end. Anyway, go and sort all those boxes out. Wes will give you a hand in a minute.”
She carried on doing whatever she was doing as I shifted the boxes of flowers into the shop, nodding to myself now that it made sense why Bertie didn’t recognise me. When I dropped off the last box, Wes peered around the lorry door.
“Oh, you’re done,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m done,” Igrunted.
I flicked a layer of sweat from my brow.
“Sorry, I was just looking for your mother,” said Wes.
“Ha. I bet you were.” I offered a half-smile.
He laughed. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, come on. It’s obvious she likes you. I mean, if she had her hair, she’d be twiddling it left, right and centre.”
“What? Really? I thought she just felt sorry for me. She’s almosttoonice to me.”
“Well, now you know. I know my mum and she’s always banging on about you. She can get deliveries locally for half the price, probably.”
“Well, actually I’m very competitive.”
“Anyway, I’ve said my piece. I don't wanna get involved.”
“She’s always talking about you as well, you know.”
“Is she?”
“Yeah. Can I tell you something?”
