Top Bun: How not to fall for your rival by Rachael McCormack

Author:Rachael McCormack [McCormack, Rachael]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2023-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

The following afternoon was disappointing for Mel too. She watched the shop over the road with increasing irritation. Hope had not been in for two days now.

Even as she locked up in the early evening, her longing glance at the other patisserie proved to be fruitless. She sighed and let herself into her apartment, flinging her clothes off as she headed for a shower.

She dried herself with her towel after standing under the deluge of hot water, wondering why Hope had given up. Isn’t that what she wanted, so why be so disappointed? She towel-dried her hair and recalled their conversations in the pizza parlour, the pub and the steakhouse. She had, if she were honest, enjoyed the banter and the teasing. Hope was, after all, a worthy opponent.

Mel would quite often find herself agreeing to something accidently. Hope had a way of disarming her, interrupting her at precisely the right time, leaving Mel wondering if she was losing her mind.

She dressed slowly, in an attempt to use up the time she had before the long evening dragged on and on. She tutted at herself, she never used to feel this way, it had never bothered her to spend most evenings in her own company. In fact, she had always enjoyed the solitude, having the freedom of choice to do what the hell she wanted, when she wanted. No more having to pander to somebody else’s wishes, enduring evenings at the cinema where it was loud and full of strangers munching their bloody popcorn, just because her girlfriend enjoyed it. No more having to share her bathroom with someone who squeezed the top of the toothpaste tube, always an irritation, or not opening the window after a shower, so that the steam ran down the walls. So why feel so lonely now?

Hope. It was all her bloody fault. As annoying as it was, as she was at times, Mel was beginning to miss their spats over a pizza, the suggestive remarks in the pub, the banter over a glass of wine, the awkward walk home and the inevitable attempt at seduction. She missed it.

She went to the kitchen and filled a saucepan, ready to make some unadventurous meal. Pasta was her go-to, but tonight she had no appetite. Isis appeared and sniffed the bowl as Mel poured in another over-priced, elaborate sounding pouch of gourmet cat food. She turned her nose up and sauntered away with disinterest. Mel began to wonder how the hell that cat was still alive with the little food she deigned to eat. ‘Careful you don’t use up all nine lives, Isis.’

And then it happened, completely out of the blue.

Her doorbell rang.

She took the pan from the heat and descended the stairs, a mix of excitement and irritation at the intrusion of her musings.

Standing on the doorstep was another source of irritation.

‘Hope, what are you doing here?’ she asked, her heart thumping at the sight of her.

‘I—sorry, Mel. I meant to come in today to see you but my plans went awry.

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