‘He’s here!’ called Rupi over her shoulder.
She watched in silence as Colin came up the path. Behind him followed a shorter, squarer man of a similar age, with shoulder-length straggly black hair (which if viewed through a romantic lens could be described as gypsy-like), wearing a leather jacket, and jeans. He appeared to be a bit hot under the collar while actually possessing no collar, and he tried hard to look everywhere but at Rupi as they approached. This peculiar form of discomfort pinged off Rupi’s feminine antennae and she lowered her long curled lashes alluringly.
‘Hi, Rupi, I got the car, this is Dave, where’s Bernie? We’ve got to get going!’ Colin bustled past into the hall.
Rupi lingered, ostensibly to hold the door open for Dave, but strategically placing herself mutely and
