Three Days Before Christmas
The clouds, low, dull and grey, match my mood, and I stare out of the passenger window, not wanting to show my disappointment. Sleet spikes down, spitting onto the windscreen and the wipers squeak, leaving white streaks as they arc across the glass.
Ryan, from the driver's seat, lays a hand on my thigh. "Cheer up. There'll be others."
"I know..." My throat is unreasonably tight. "It just looked so good in the ad. I'd thought maybe..."
He cuts in, but the cheerful tone to his voice sounds forced. "Vendors are always going to overegg the cake. It did say, Needs Renovation."
I huff. "Needs complete demolition and rebuilding would have been nearer the mark." Then, at his answering silence, I realise how waspish I must have just sounded. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that. It wasn't aimed at you."