I only popped in for a sandwich. It was lunchtime. My stomach was gurgling.
I didn't see her until I went up to the counter.
Then they hit me. Her green eyes hit me. Green eyes framed in a face Vermeer couldn't have done justice to.
I think my jaw dropped. I couldn't speak.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
Rabbit in headlights. "Yes. Yes, uh, yes... I'll have a, uh, Mexican tuna in, uh, a granary bap, please."
How smooth is that? How bloody-James-Bond-smooth is that?
"And a Ribena," I added, because I'm the new Cary Grant.
Earth swallow me.
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