If she was honest with herself, Pumla was rarely wrong, but that didn’t stop Jamie from feeling compelled to argue with her. She was already regretting their earlier fight. And she was especially regretting having ranted about it on Twitter.

Tweeter’s remorse. You couldn’t be a regular on Twitter without knowing what that felt like.

––––––––––

As Jamie chatted to the customers about bread, the man stood outside Delucia’s and watched her through the window.

Two contacts in one day. One in real life and one on the internet. How thrilling it all was. He’d needed this boost. The day of the pigeons had kept him going for weeks. But then the delicious feeling had faded. He needed more.

Every face-to-face contact was a risk. Even though he changed his appearance for each encounter, it was still a risk. Jamie wasn’t stupid. She would start to recognise him soon. If only today hadn’t left him feeling so dissatisfied. Yes, she’d looked at him. Yes, she’d acknowledged him, but in such a dismissive way. She’d handed him over to her colleague the minute someone more interesting came along. That was poor service. There was no other word for it. She should have finished with him first.

And the way she’d spoken to him on Twitter was no better. Who was she to tell him not to jump to conclusions? It made him wonder whether she was as intelligent as he’d hoped. Her tone on Twitter was abrupt and disrespectful. The only thing worse than being ignored was being disrespected. That was something Jamie would need to learn.