Chapter Two“Excuse me, where’s your bathroom?” I hear him call from the back door.
“Oh please come in, it’s just over there...” When he enters, I point out the right door in the hallway.
The contrast between us is even more obvious to me now, he looks like everything I am not in his formals which probably cost more than my car is worth. At the same time I - at 24 - still dress like I did as a teenager, faded jeans and inappropriately tight t-shirts. The only “fancy” clothes I own are worn exclusively to job interviews and then too they’re Primark or at a stretch Next. You could mistake me for a simple idealist, not moved by worldly possessions, when in fact I am just a bit stingy and lazy.
Plus, I’ve never really understood fashion.
Strangely, he looks quite at home, walking over the t
