those could have been my present to myself. I decided that I might buy some freesias instead.
I have always loved their delicate scent and the softness of their colors—
they have a kind of subdued luminosity which is much more beautiful than a garish sunflower or a clichéd red rose.
Raymond was looking at me. “I’m going to my mum’s now,” he said.
I nodded, blew my nose and zipped up my jerkin in preparation for the journey home.
“Listen—d’you fancy coming with me?” Raymond said, just as I was turning toward the gate. Under no circumstances, was my immediate thought.
“I go over most Sundays,” he went on. “She doesn’t get out much—I’m sure she’d love to see a new face.”
“Even one like mine?” I said. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would take any particular pleasure in looking at my face,
either for the first or for the thousand and first time. Raymond ignored me and began to rummage in his pockets.
I thought about his suggestion while he lit up another cigarette.
I could still purchase vodka and birthday flowers on the way home, after all, and it might be interesting to see the inside of another person’s home.
I tried to think of the last time I had done so. I had stood in the hallway of my downstairs neighbors’ flat a couple of years ago,
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