The lift

The lift

He kept calling me Ruth
As if he had never heard it before
Or perhaps he thought I was the one
That needed reminding
Security was his game
Gary was his name
I don't think I used it once
Rugby part-time apparently
Coaching Juniors
They lived in a good part of the city
I often thought of moving in
He often thought of moving out
The appeal process had been a nightmare
Even had to go to church once
Dreadful
Strangers apart from our sons
It was a good school though
Neither of us were Catholic
Something in common at last
Did he deal in CCTV then?
I'd been banned from the car park where I worked
It just slipped out
Like the dust settling from my recent separation
And as I tottered out onto the cobbles in my cowboy boots
I caught his slight air of hysteria
As well as my quiff on his car door
Good bye Ruth he said for good measure
I spent the next hour thinking about
This man who had given me a lift
And insisted on dropping me off
Exactly where I wanted to be
One hour early
And had the temerity to like my name