At First Sight by Hannah Sunderland (latest novels to read TXT) 📕

be a long story. But it had turned out to be less of a tome and more of a novella, maybe even a haiku or perhaps a limerick was more fitting in this case.

I took a left and walked a little way up the steep hill towards home, moving on autopilot while a barrage of self-inflicted insults bounced their way around my brain, ricocheting back and forth like hurtful little squash balls. I’d instinctively taken the shortest way home past the town hall and I looked up at the face of the clock tower, high up at the end of the long Victorian building. Ned would be home by now, but the bags were hurting my hands, so I walked over to the war memorial, a bronze statue of a soldier surrounded by wreaths of plastic red poppies left over from last November. I slumped down on the surrounding wall, letting my bags of shopping slide onto the ground.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and saw that I had two messages, one from Charlie and one from Joel. Great, this day just kept getting better. I didn’t bother reading either. My time for caring what either of them had to say was over, so I swiped the texts away.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but it was growing dark by the time I got up and began the rest of the journey home. On the way, curiosity got the better of me and I opened up Joel’s message. All the words were the same as the last several hundred texts he’d sent, just in a different order.

Hey You, How’s things? I really think we need to talk. Sort out what we’re feeling and stuff. Could I come by at some point? J xxx

P.S. I found a box of some of your stuff and so I’ll bring that over too.

The ‘I’ve just happened upon some of your possessions’ excuse was one of Joel’s favourites. I think he’d actually found all of my stuff within a few weeks of us breaking up and had divided it up into little groups that he was systematically bringing back to me in dribs and drabs.

I couldn’t deal with Joel and whatever it was he wanted to talk about right now. So, I pushed my phone into my pocket and tried to forget about both of the troublesome men in my life.

When I eventually got home, I let myself into the house and was met by the sound of the radio playing softly in the kitchen. The bag handles had begun to dig into the fleshy pads of my fingers and I couldn’t wait to put them all down. I made a mental note to, in future, walk into town and catch the bus home instead. I walked into the kitchen and heaved the bags up onto the counter, sighing with relief when my hands were finally free.

‘Nell, I was wondering where you were,’ Ned said.

‘I got caught up in the farce that is my love life, but I’m back now and I come bearing Meat Medley Pizza and Channing Tatum.’

When I turned to show him the film cover, I found his eyes wide and staring.

‘What?’ I asked a little haughtily.

‘I’m making tea for us. Would you like some too?’ I frowned at him as he stared meaningfully into my eyes and used his pupils to point over in the direction of the table. I looked over and saw what I hadn’t when I walked in. Sitting at the table with a pained smile on his face was Charlie. He was peering out from behind what was left of the flowers he’d sent, which must have obscured him from my vision when I’d walked in. The eucalyptus was still holding up well, but the tulips had long since drooped and found their way into the bin. Ned, unable to stand the smell, was desperate to throw them out, but, even though the sentiment of the bouquet now made me grit my teeth, I still couldn’t throw them out just yet. I could hardly condemn the flowers to an early grave, simply because the person who sent them to me was an insensitive arsehole. That odd, sad look was in Charlie’s eyes again and I heaved a sigh of frustration. For God’s sake. Here we go again.

‘No, to the tea – thanks, Ned. There’s something slightly stronger in the bag that I have a feeling I’m going to be needing shortly,’ I said, my eyes glued to Charlie’s.

‘I asked Charlie to stay for pizza and a film. I hope that’s okay?’ he asked, meddling away.

I sighed. ‘What did you go and do that for?’ A series of annoyed tuts left my mouth before I turned back to Charlie. I must have been shooting daggers at him because he looked genuinely afraid. ‘Charlie, can I talk to you in the other room for a moment, please?’

‘Err, sure.’ He rose worriedly from the table and looked to Ned as if he might need to call in backup at any moment. He was dressed in that annoying cool way he always did, in the same black ripped jeans that he’d worn every single time I’d seen him, slightly pointy-toed shoes and a cable-knit jumper that was rolled up at the sleeves. I looked him over for what I hoped wasn’t a long time, turned abruptly and walked towards the living room. I slapped the light on with an overly aggressive hand, marched over to the far wall, turned with the dexterity of an Olympic swimmer and by the time I had folded my arms across my chest, he was tentatively making his way through the door.

‘What about our earlier conversation made it seem like I’d invited you round for tea?’ I asked.

He stood for a moment, looking unsure as his mouth opened and closed over and over again. Then without warning he stepped forward and flung his arms around me. His chin tucked itself into the curve