Blind Date

Bess’s eyes itched. She wondered if it was a reaction to the waterproof mascara she’d tried for the first time. The more her eyes itched, the more she regretted not buying the name brand eye make-up remover. Now she was sitting in the front bar of a pub that she wasn’t familiar with waiting for a blind date that her best friend had arranged and her eyes were itchy. She could wash it off in the toilets, but being waterproof, it would be very difficult.

The bell over the door rang again and Bess looked at the man coming in. He was pretty handsome. And holding the hand of a stunning woman. Dammit. She checked her phone for the time and any missed messages or calls. Still five minutes before their designated meeting time, and no messages. Still five minutes to leave and pretend she was sick.

Perhaps this wasn’t the make-up – perhaps she actually had conjunctivitis? Within thirty seconds, she had decided that she had best leave. As she put her hand on the door, her phone beeped. It was a message from her friend.

‘He will be five minutes late and stop trying to leave. Get back on the seat, get yourself a drink and relax. You asked me to set this up, remember?’

Bess sighed, sent a reply message.

‘Fine. But if it is an eye infection, I blame you for spreading it.’

She sat at the bar and ordered a beer.

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