Page 32 of The Second Chance Bus Stop

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I’m lying four feet away from a very funny, very smart, very attractive and, as it turns out, very naked woman. I force myself

not to think about her. I turn towards the wall and pull my legs into recovery position, my knees touching the outline of

the table. I go through where I stand with Sven to get my mind to peace.

‘Is that a fire alarm?’ I jump up then throw myself back down on the sofa pressing the pillow over my ears. My left side is

tingling and I’m surprised I haven’t fallen out and onto the floor during the night. Must have been too tense to move even

in my sleep.

The noise dies out, and I drift off again. Until again.

‘Good morning,’ Sophia’s voice says over the noise.

‘Jesus, how many times do you snooze? And are you trying to call all the wild animals over? I bet there’s a wolf out there

somewhere who’d be keen on that sound.’

‘I like to call it my opportunity clock. Less of a negative connotation.’

I chuckle, surprising myself. I didn’t think a chuckle of any sort was physically possible before seven.

‘Could I encourage you to jump at the first opportunity when it arises in the future, rather than miss four of them?’

‘I snooze six times. We have two left. I like to think not all opportunities are for me. Everything happens for a reason and

all that.’

‘But you’re awake to watch the first opportunity pass you by?’

‘Habit. Here we go. Number five already.’

I pray for a rainless day today so I can move back out to the tent, far from the alarm.

‘Okay, that was number six. Now I can get up.’ She has somehow managed to get dressed underneath the duvet, don’t ask me how,

but when she appears it’s in a pair of denim shorts and a long-sleeved white shirt. She pushes the button on her phone and

shows me the screen.

‘Look. Off.’

‘I can see why you live alone.’

I watch her walk to the kitchen tap and take her retainer out, drink a full glass of water and put her hair into a ponytail,

and I think that maybe everything will turn out okay. I will try to make the most of my time here with a woman who talks in

floral metaphors and misses five opportunities every morning. But seizes the sixth one.

I go to pack up the soaking-wet tent.