Pushing the sleeve of my light grey jumper up, I check my watch yet again and stare blankly at the fingers without even seeing the time.
All the while I sense Brett watching me, though I try desperately to ignore him and feign nonchalance in a vain attempt to play it cool.
Damn I wish I hadn't worn a jumper under my leather jacket. Outside there's still a biting chill in the air, and I seem to recall the weather girl last night saying something about a late frost, but here in the cramped confines of the number 40 bus which is absolutely packed - to the point where I'm wondering how on earth we're ever going to get off, and I can just envisage us missing our stop because of not being able to get to the door - it is stiflingly hot.
The only available seats were right up at the front and
