Chapter 2

Abigail was both excited and nervous; she couldn't remember the last time she'd gone clothes shopping with her mother and for several years she'd got by with a combination of generic jeans – not form-fitting ones – and loose jumpers and hoodies.

They rode into town on the bus. "Now, love," her mother said, "I don't think you want to be trendy, do you? Tell me if I'm wrong, but you'd like ... what was his name, Mike? ... to see you as an attractive young woman, but you don't really want hordes of other young men crowding round ... do you?"

Abigail thought about that. "I don't think so ... I got so used to the idea that, well, I wasn't very attractive ... I've never really thought about dressing to attract. I'm not sure even now that Mike sees me as a woman rather than a friend he gets along with well..."

"Nothing wrong with that, but it would be quite nice for him to know you are a woman. We ... never discussed having your birthmark removed..."

"No. It's part of me now. I'd like someone to want me as me before even thinking about treatment."

"Do you mind ... that we let you go through perhaps the most sensitive time of your life like that?"

"I never really thought about it except from time to time when someone's been bitchy about it. Actually, it's a pretty good way of sorting the nice guys out ... except, so far, I've only found one nice guy. Mind you ... one would be enough if he's the right one..."

"Anyway, love, I thought today we'd just look for some feminine things, rather than trendy or sexy, if that's all right. It's a film, not a dance or a romantic meal, so we need to get it pitched right, okay?"

They had a lovely mother/daughter bonding time, picking out some clothes Abigail could (if she wished) wear to Uni as well as going out on a low-key date, finishing up in the Uni cafeteria for coffee and a cake.

"I have to watch my waistline," her mother commented as Abigail tucked in to a large hunk of 'home-made' flapjack from the Uni kitchen.

"You could have made an exception today," said Abigail, "They really do make good cakes."

Then she spotted Mike heading their way. She waved to him and nudged her mother.

"Mike! This is my mother. Mum, meet Mike Simkins."

"A pleasure, ma'am."

"Likewise, Mike. Abigail ... I'd better be on my way. See you later." She bent down and whispered in Abigail's ear, 'He's gorgeous, and you say he's got a brain, too?' She waved to Mike and set off for home.

"Er ... Mike?"

"Abby?"

"I know I said I'd meet you at the Odeon ... but ... would you mind collecting me?"

"What? No! Of course I'll collect you."

"And ... can we ride the bus ... both ways?"

"Sure! I'd be happy to get a taxi..."

"Mike, I don't want to ride in a taxi ... I want to ride the bus with you. Is that okay?"

He looked a bit puzzled but shrugged. "Whatever, however, you want it, it shall be," he said. "I'm just happy to have your company."

She smiled and his heart turned over again.

"Abby ... do you mind me calling you Abby?" He paused and waited for her to shake her head, "whatever you want, if ever you want anything, all you have to do is smile at me like that. It does incredible things to my chest..."

She giggled. "I'm looking forward to tonight. But we've got that phase test next..."

"Shall we go, then?" He stood and held out his hand; she stood and took it with another lovely smile and they left the cafeteria hand in hand.

The phase test was on computer network technicalities; they were allowed an hour, but were finished after twenty minutes. They weren't allowed to leave until thirty minutes had elapsed; (that's so late-comers can begin their exam up to thirty minutes after the start time, though they get no extra time) and fully half the candidates in the room left at the same time. That was okay – it was lunch-time anyway.

She was still unsure ... of herself, of her budding relationship with Mike. She'd never had a boyfriend, never been on a date, so it was greatly daring that she reached out and slipped her hand in his, taking the initiative for the first time. He looked at her and smiled; and this time ... it was her heart that turned over.

They had to go their separate ways after lunch (and a discussion of the relative merits of Anne McCaffrey and Marion Zimmer Bradley – concluding they were too different to compare).

Mike turned up at the Ferguson house (on Riverdale Road) in good time and was shown into the lounge by Abigail's mother, where he found her father and another similarly aged couple; he thought the woman looked rather sour; the man stood and offered his hand, Mike shook it.

"I'm Abigail's Uncle Patrick," he said, then indicating the rather sour-looking woman, "my wife, Lisa."

"Good to meet you, sir, ma'am," he responded.

"It's kind of you to take Abigail out like this," the woman said.

Mike's face set in neutral; it was a conscious effort. "Not at all, Ma'am," he said, "my pleasure and my privilege."

At that point, the door opened and Abigail walked in. Now, she wasn't 'dressed up'; she and her mother had arrived at a perfect compromise; a skirt reaching just above her knees (showing slim, shapely legs) in dark green, with a spring-green blouse (showing that she at least appeared to have breasts); a modest but feminine outfit. Her hair was up in braids that wrapped round her head somehow, which emphasised her slim neck, she looked at him and smiled shyly.

He'd seen her as a friend; begun to know her as a person; he'd been aware that she was a young woman, but it had been almost an intellectual knowledge. He looked at her, for the first time, as a woman; a young, attractive woman. "Wow!" was all he could manage, then, "you look terrific!"

"Thanks," she said, smiling and slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. "Shall we go?" She snagged a jacket as they passed the coat-rack on the way to the door; He took it from her and helped her into it and the left the house.

Crossing the road, they cut through the park, walking carefully down the steep path. Abigail was wearing shoes with a slight heel, that she wasn't used to and she was glad to steady herself by holding his arm. They crossed the brook and climbed the steps to the gateway. The bus-stop was only a few yards away; he looked at his watch ... not that the time meant anything in terms of the likelihood of the bus arriving! The bus service really isn't bad; they had a few minutes to wait, though.

Riding the bus wasn't an unusual experience for Abigail; she did it every day. It was unusual for her to be doing so with a male companion, particularly a young male companion ... who kept holding her hand. She felt ... exposed, somehow; but when Mike looked at her and smiled, her heart turned over and a strange warmth spread out from it until she felt she was literally glowing. She didn't realise that she was smiling back, just revelling in the sensations that only intensified when his arm reached round her and pulled her to him. It seemed only moments before they had to leave the vehicle to walk to the cinema.