The journey to Sheffield wouldn’t take long, but Grace decided to do some writing before Daisy picked her up from the station. It would prevent her mind from replaying the viva she’d just experienced (or more accurately, the walk with Dr Franks she’d had afterwards), and keep the prospect of dress shopping tomorrow at bay. Flicking her way to the correct place in her notebook before fishing out a red pen from her ancient Tom Baker Doctor Who pencil case, Grace found herself wondering what Rob Franks would make of her ownership of that. He’d probably wonder why, if she must own a child’s pencil case rather than a sensible boring adult one, why she didn’t have a Robin Hood one. The lecturer been a lot nicer than she’d expected really. OK, he had teased her a bit, but she’d probably asked for it. She knew she got a bit touchy about her work sometimes. Despite her determination for it not to, Grace’s mind drifted to when they’d stood by the lake together and she’d had to steady herself against him, albeit briefly.
