No need to explain

I'm running down Embankment in my unbuttoned black-tie suit. A car just beeped at me so I waved, although I didn't recognise its driver. What a cool pleasant night. She made a fuss of course, about me popping out. ‘I’m going to go for a quick run,’ I said to her. We were outside some out-of-order men’s toilets I’d followed them up to. She was still pretending it hadn’t happened, reapplying make-up, checking her reflection for something or other. ‘Did you have something in your eye?’ I said. It was possible. ‘Nothing’s changed,’ she said. I felt a little annoyed. ‘I mean, was he trying to get something out of your eye?’ She wiped a hand up her face so that lipstick she’d just applied made a red moustache of her upper lip. ‘No,’ she said. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that so I just said, ‘Well, no need to explain now anyway.’ Then I decided to go for a run.

I stopped quickly just now to catch my breath. Traffic hurtles past – lorries, taxis, buses. They sort of roar like boisterous animals. I wonder whether I can make it across without stopping. There’s a bit of a gap coming up. Don’t suppose it would hurt to try.

Written by David Jackson