Sometimes, trusting your instincts leads to happiness and love.
After coming out, life took a turn for the worse. I knew people would view me differently, of course I did, but… See, here’s the thing. How does a person cope when a few of their work colleagues play such a cruel trick that it leaves them wondering if they’ll ever trust anyone again? It happened to me, and trusting isn’t something I do easily now.
Until James came along. He’s a work colleague too, but my issue is, I keep thinking he’s playing another trick. You know, reeling me in, making me think he’s a good bloke.
He’s asked me to go out with him, and, although I should maybe get to know him a bit better first, I’ve said I’ll go. I need to get back out there, live a little. And if I get hurt? Well, I’ll just have to deal with it. Again.
But maybe he won’t hurt me. Break my heart and all that. Please God.
General Release Date: 8th September 2015
‘I bet there’s always that worry, isn’t there, that you’ll never find a lifelong partner?’
That’s what Nancy, my only friend at work, had said to me the other day. And yeah, there was always that worry, especially when I didn’t go anywhere or actively try to find someone. I didn’t see the point—since I’d come out, it seemed everyone treated me like a leper. Down in the bloody dumps, that’s what I was and, I had to admit, maybe enjoying that a bit too much. It was something to occupy my mind.
Buck up, you silly bastard. Put a smile on your face.
All well and good, but my face didn’t fancy stretching into a grin any time soon—and I didn’t know how to make that happen anymore.
I left the office block, this tall, monstrous building constructed more from glass than anything else, and headed across the street. Shops—consisting of a bookies, launderette and a Tesco Express—stood in a row as though leaning against one another for support. I kind of understood their need—except I didn’t have anyone to lean onto.
I frowned, crossing the road, annoyed at myself, because I’d slipped right back into negative thinking without, well, thinking about it. Something had to give, and as I reached the opposite pavement, I reckoned I should make a concerted effort to get happy again. So what if I didn’t have a bloke or any mates other than Nancy? So fucking what?
On the corner, beside the bookies, the sandwich shop I bought my lunch from every day belched out the scent of fried bacon. I entered, engulfed in the coolness the air con pushed down from a ceiling grate. My skin dried, giving much welcome respite to my neck. My shirt and tie was a bitch to wear in the summer.
I placed my order for a ham salad baguette, and while I waited, turned to stare outside. A stream of workers in the process of leaving the office block parted, forming a two-deep line in front of the curb. Any second now, half of them would cram themselves into the sandwich shop, the other half in Tesco.
Such was lunch hour.
I paid the weathered-looking old woman behind the counter then took my baguette outside. All right, I’d get hot and uncomfortable again, but that was preferable to being squashed inside among a load of starving people. Turning left, I walked down an alley, making my way to the terrace at the back of the shop. There were a few tables and chairs out there, and this groovy fountain in the middle of the patio that half-heartedly squirted water out of a lion’s mouth at random intervals.
A bit like me, really, that lion. Spurts of happiness and nothing in between.
“Fuck off,” I said, annoying myself.
“That aimed at me, was it?”
I snapped my head up—I’d been staring at the floor again, my usual habit lately to avoid eye contact—and glanced around to see who’d spoken. The terrace only had one person on it apart from me—that wouldn’t last long—and it was some bloke I’d seen a few times before, here and at work. I thought he was in admin, the office down the corridor a bit from the huge room I spent my days in, stuffed inside a cube answering calls from irate customers.
“Err, no.” I gave him a wonky smile—all I could manage—and self-consciously took a seat at the table farthest from him, in the opposite corner beside a terracotta plant pot filled with some flower or other. The blooms spilled over the sides, and I gave them all my attention while unwrapping my baguette from the paper bag.
He was staring at me. I felt the burn of it on my left cheek, experienced the need to get up and walk away. Instead, I remained in place and, angling my body a little so I partially faced away from him, I bit into the bread.
“Taste nice, does it?”
I had no idea what to say to that. His question hadn’t been expected, and anyway, who asked a stranger if their lunch tasted good unless they were a waitress or whatever and were paid to do so? I chewed then swallowed, mulling over whether I’d give him the time of day. Maybe he was like me, lonely and whatnot, and just wanted someone to talk to.
Or maybe he’s like most of the others around here, getting ready to start something. Bring up what happened the other week…
Sarah Masters is a multi-published author in three pen names writing several genres. She lives with her husband, youngest daughter, and a cat in England. She writes at weekends and is a cover artist/head of art in her day job. In another life she was an editor. Her other pen names are Natalie Dae and Geraldine O’Hara.
Sarah also co-authors with Jaime Samms, and as Natalie Dae she co-authors with Lily Harlem under the name Harlem Dae.
Reviewed by Tracy Gee
Sarah Masters unique style drags me in every time, Trust was no different, I was hooked on the first page. The British dialogue is alway a plus for me. I understood the hurt Trev was feeling, why h...
Read more reviews
Reviewed by Rainbow Book Reviews
Trusting can be scary, but it is absolutely essential for our happiness. Sarah does a marvelous job of portraying Trev's emotions in this short, but emotion-filled story. I cried for Trev because of th...
Read more reviews
£0.99 Buy Now
Add to Wishlist
Read a Sample
Send as a Gift
Available in:
epub, mobi, pdf 
