Moss

Traffic lights. I had never liked them. Just like I disliked it when Stephen would nudge his wife and call me a 'character' - whatever that meant. I wondered what the world would be like without traffic lights. Only one word came to mind.

Heaven.

I'd go absolutely wild. There would be no stopping me. I could get from here to where ever without waiting for five dreary minutes for the stupid lights to leisurely switch from red, amber to green. It was no wonder I didn't like those colours, the green especially. Although it meant I could drive along on my merry way, it also meant that I'd had to wait throughout those dreary five minutes - bored out of my guts - until it finally hit that damn green light.

"Green, green, green, get to the bloody green already!"

Alastair reached out and kept me still, instead of thrashing around like the spasmic retard I was getting irritated by some silly traffic lights.

"Take a minute to think about what the hell you're doing Poppy"

I shrugged, breathing in, out, in and out again, this kept me partially sane.

"You were shouting abuse at traffic lights," he said it like my head was on fire, "Why are you acting so crazy?"

I gulped. I felt that feeling I always felt when I gulped too quickly, that choking aftermath. Alastair patted my back, while I gripped the steering wheel, coughing and partially dying.

"I can't help it," I explained.

I noticed his hand was still on my back. I awkwardly moved backwards in my seat and moved his hand away. He blushed momentarily, but I acted as though nothing had happened, although I secretly smiled. I liked how his milky skin was so sensitive, making his blush extra rosy, which still remained apparent, despite that he now seemed to feel a little less uncomfortable. I looked away frantically scanning the streets; right and left.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'm not looking for anything ... well," I pointed a single finger towards the turning that I had already signaled the car to take once the traffic lights decided to be a darling and let me pass, "You see that restaurant right there, just on the corner of Mill Lane"

"Yeah, I see it"

"I work there," I told him. I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't quite see the point in what I'd disclosed, so I elaborated with a little urgency, "My boss ... did something, something not very nice, that I can't tell you. I'm not talking to her, so I've been avoiding work. I heard from Paige, she's a fellow waitress who bitches alot, in fact they all do. Anyway word is I'm in deep, like really deep. We've been having two weeks of non-stop reservations. Her restaurant, 'Haven' isn't all that well known here in Mansard. But recently business has started to pick up. I mean just last week it was Valentines Day, that's a busy day, the place was packed, but aside from that she's been getting party reservations, the lot and apparently she's on the verge of copping herself"

"Really"

"Yes, really. I've also been told that before she cops herself, she's going to murder me"

"Why?" asked Alastair, "You're just one person, I'm sure there are-," he smacked my arm, "The lights green, go Poppy!"

Cars were beeping and honking behind me. I grew aggravated and continued looking at Alastair, "I know I'm one person, but that's just it"

I tossed my head around watching a car behind me swerve around my car and turn the corner blaring their horn, as did the next one and the one after and so on.

"Precisely four people work at Haven. Minus the Head Chef and his crew, and one being my best friend, well boss, whatever. For two weeks I've been playing hide and seek. She's probably already copped herself due to the stress"

I turned back to the road and sighed as if a million problems had invisibly been lifted off of my shoulders. They hadn't really - and there weren't really a million - but I felt better despite that.

I parked the car on the side of the road opposite Haven. Although my parking wasn't quite precise, the end lay hanging of the curb, whilst the front end was halfway on top of it. I patted the car, appreciation for my not-so-handy handy work and winked, muttering, "'Ello, sweetheart," when an angry looking mother jammed her pram - her baby packed away neatly inside - trying to get past my clumsily parked car.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Alastair annoyingly apologised to the women, who smiled when he complimented her ugly orange dress and her equally ugly baby.

Actually the baby was rather cute, but I didn't let him know that, sticking my tongue out to which he giggled. The mother quite literally dragged him away from me, scrunching her nose as though I had extremely bad body odor and laser beams in my eyes that would kill her child. Honestly if I had laser beams in my eyes I would have killed her, not her baby - he probably wouldn't mind anyway.

The traffic lights were now turning amber, and a few cars turned the corner as quickly as possible before the lights decided to be pissy and change back to the rotten red. I looked back at Alastair, he wasn't exactly paying attention, as we both stood waiting for the cars to pass.

I thought about the farm, the low rent I paid to live in the shack with bonus luxury from the McDonald's. And then I remembered monstrous truck Stephen drove around the farm that could easily ram me over and break my ribs; a smooth cold blooded kill.

I couldn't risk it and so I grabbed Alastair hand and wrapped it with my own, feeling all bubbly inside like I'd done my good deed for the day. I'd saved a life. He was quite literally astounded, as I marched across the road smiling brightly at the green man that allowed us to do just that, still as ever holding his hand like a good samaritan.

That was the first time in a long time I'd used a pedestrian to cross a road.

"I'm not a little boy, Poppy. Why are you holding my hand?" I could hear the annoyance in his tone and stared straight ahead happy as pie.

We had crossed the road. Alastair remained well, hair, eyebrows, arms, legs, all there and in check.

"Why aren't you letting go?"

As if an thunder bolt had hit our palms, he swiped his away and lost his footing. He stumbled.

"You, alright?" I asked, jingling my car keys in my hands, as we approached the door to Haven - a contradiction in itself.

"I'm perfectly fine"

"Good, now creep down low, and make sure nobody sees you"

I did just that, and yanked him down to do the same when he didn't listen. The door was already slightly ajar, something that tended to annoy the customers on cold days - everyday basically.

"If you see a ginger woman, with really frizzy hair, pushed back into a bun, that's our girl, Susie. Beware of her at all costs"

Alastair nodded with his reply, "Ok"

"Poppy?"

Bananas! Oranges! Apples!

Alastair had been on his knees, he was considerably taller than me for a little boy I'd noticed. He'd knelt forward to scour the zone and fell forward. The door had burst open and slammed into the plant pot behind the doorway. Immediately nine or so glares whipped our way.

"Shut the door, it's bloody freezing," exclaimed a female customer.

"Fuck off and shut it yourself you lazy cow," I recognised that impatient sneer anyday. Susie Slater.

"Calm down, Susan," I held my hands up, where she could see them.

We had been caught, Alastair and I. My boss - who was also supposedly my best friend, how else would I actually have a job - gave me the look that put a T-Rex to shame. She literally stomped her way towards us, weaving through tables, knocking many glasses over and barked my name.

"Poppy Lee, I am going to chop you up into tiny little pieces, fry you and then-"

I didn't stay long enough to hear her little epiphany. There I was, once again hand in hand with young Alastair McDonald running across the busy road, causing traffic jams like no other. Only this time he was dragging me along behind him, it was me who wouldn't let go of his hand. That is until the dreaded boss/best friend/murderer shrieked like a banshee across the road and oncoming traffic yelling and cawing. I sat in the car, Alastair and I laughing.

"She's definitely lost a few customers I'd say," said Alastair, still chuckling as I started the car and weaved quickly out into the road.

She certainly had, I observed as a young couple fleeted away from Susan, who barked at them about never getting tips and something else about uptight mother fuckers.

The traffic was scarce; Haven in the distance far behind us. We grew to a slow stop at a traffic light and I merrily tapped my fingers along the steering wheel, singing a cheesy old song I doubted Alastair would recognise.

"Just out of curiosity. Who are the guests that are coming to the farm tonight?" I asked.

Alastair smiled cheerily, his eyes part squinted. His smile was beautiful, not handsome: just beautiful.

"My brother!"

"Really!" I asked with excitement.

"Yeah, really. And he's bringing his wife and daughter!"

I nearly crashed the car.