His cheeks felt suddenly cold, but that was nothing compared to the clammy hand that was twisting around inside his stomach. Gavin, a 22-year-old recent graduate from the London School of Economics, twisted his square-faced visage into a spiteful grin. ‘Yeah, I thought that might get a reaction. At last. Ever since I found you in that disgusting fleatpit you call a bedsit, you’ve been about as responsive as an old tabby cat on Prozac.’ His striking hazel eyes, slightly up-tilted at the end, suddenly shimmered with unshed tears. His voice, upper-crust and just slightly on the nasal side, trembled with tension. ‘Anybody else would be flattered to be chased. But oh no, not you. It’s been nothing but moan, moan, moan, ever since I got here.’ ‘That’s not true,’ Keith mumbled, glancing around nervously. The café was a cross between an old-fashioned tea shop and a health food bar, and most of its clientele were young, working, upwardly mobile types, who were taking no notice of the two young men at all.
What do You think about Beside A Narrow Stream (2012)?
