I Worry About You

Sally hated the self-defence classes, but maybe they would make her feel safer

- Elizabeth Dale

There he was again! Sally couldn’t believe it when she saw him, lurking outside the window of the building society where she worked, his collar up, hat down low over his face, peering inside. She watched, expectantly, as the stranger, she had jokingly nicknamed Rob, opened the door this time. He took a step inside, then rushed back out.

How very odd. Two more people came in and Sally was so busy serving them that she didn’t have time to glance back outside. When she did, ‘Rob’ was gone.

‘Was your robber there again?’ asked Judith, Sally’s mum, when she got home later that evening.

Sally sighed. How she wished she’d never told her that she’d seen someone lurking around outside the building society, day after day. It had really set Judith’s imagination into overdrive.

‘I didn’t really have time to look,’ Sally muttered.

‘So, have you told your boss yet?’ Judith asked.

‘No,’ said Sally. ‘I told you, Mum, there’s a bus stop right outside. He could have been waiting for his bus home.’

‘But he was peering in?’ ‘Yes, well, waiting for a bus isn’t the most fascinating experience,’ said Sally.

‘Especially when they’re always late. I often peer in shop windows to while away the time.’

‘I worry about you,’ said Judith. ‘What if he’s waiting to follow you home? To knock you over the head and demand the keys to the safe?’

‘But I don’t have the keys to the safe!’ Sally cried.

‘Exactly,’ Judith said. ‘Just think how angry he’ll be when you don’t hand them over.’

Sally sighed. ‘I’m OK, Mum.’ ‘No you aren’t.

You’re a single woman with no one looking out for you, but me.’

Sally rolled her eyes.