Sitting in the small restaurant booth, I played with the pink straw in my cola, stabbing the bottom of my glass as if to chip away at it was to chip away at my nervousness. Really, I was doing it to conceal my shaking, and push away my thoughts of disappointment. I'd been expecting them here for over two hours and every dull thud my watch ticked signalled the more and more trouble I was in and the ever increasing chance that they wouldn't turn up. I looked up and watched a family navigating their way to the booth next to me. The mum was staring adoringly at her daughter, with an angelic smile, and hair, shining as a perfect glossy halo. I took a deep breath in and tapped my nails in never ending waves on the wooden table. I was just sitting there, watching the light reflected on the table from the small light above me and watched the waitress walk up to my table. "Hi honey, you've been here n'awful long time" she droned. "I'm guessing it's a boy, huh? I would just go back home darlin'." I nodded, I knew she wanted me gone, and I should get home.

I opened the door of the diner and stepped outside; a blast of bitter cold air smacking against my face, my flimsy coat flaying out and dainty earrings pulling against my ear. I turned right down the icy street to walk back home, not bothering to hide the disappointment in my face. I looked up to cross the road, and out the corner of my eye saw a light. I turned around and faced a telephone box. Yes, maybe I should phone before I get home. I walked up to the box, my heels cracking on the pavement below, trying to break the frost beneath them. I opened the door to the telephone box and stood inside. I let my hand hover over the numbers, hesitating. No, I had to do this now, before I get too scared. I pulled a coin out of my pocket, placing it into the machine and picked up the phone, listening to the constant hum it made. Picking up my hands I dialled the number, waiting for it to start ringing.


Silently I put the phone back onto its hook, ignoring the tears that had stained my face and smeared my lipstick. I let out a guttural cry, falling to the frosty floor of the box, huddling in my coat as I rocked back and forth. No, I couldn't let myself stay like this. I stood up, my legs wobbling from emotion and stared into the silver strip trying to wipe away my tears and sort out my hair. I opened the box, and walked back down the icy street, tears streaming down my cheeks, turning into the first frost of pain.