You don’t fall in love with ‘the girl on the bus.’ It just isn’t done. Maybe you look at her chest, maybe you chat her up even. But to fall deeply and silently in love with a stranger who just happens to be a regular on the same bus: that would just be sad. And there is nothing worse than being sad, right?
Steph was never sad. He never took the bus either. Steph’s and Alexander’s schoolboy friendship had been consolidated during the time the two had spent in uniform together as police recruits. Steph’s indestructible cheeriness seemed to complement Alexander’s own dour demeanour. Alexander used to call him the laughing policeman, and in return Steph called Alexander ‘Taggart,’ after the dour TV detective, which only served to flatter his considerable ambition. Steph’s ambition was rather more modest, as is generally the case with happy people. Continue reading “A comedy of Eros”