It couldn't have been.John left me alone.I plopped down on the bench in the centre of the room and stared at thedungarees in my hand - at the black T-...hirt he'd left for me on theshelf - at Maureen's old training shoes.She was sitting at my desk, doing my job, wearing smart clothes; andhere I was: expected to get dressed in this ugly unflattering uniform.But what other choices did I have? Until I got another job: none.Trying to cheer myself up I opened my handbag, took out the king-sizeMars bar. My mother had told me that Robert was even going to be there.Robert.I never did call him after New Orleans. I went back to studying and dating and tried yet again to push it out of my mind. But I failed miserably. That fuck in the bathroom with a head full of coke was the single most exciting night of my life. I spent many nights since then masturbating to the memories of the way he treated me, but I never got the nerve up to call him. He called me a few times, but I was never there.I started. More

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