the power; you could tell.
I tried to stay calm. ‘So we need to go home, download the forms, fill them in and print them off then come back here? To join that queue again?’ I was so behind I just didn’t have the time for this.
‘Well, they’re the rules.’
‘Seriously?’ I gave her my best begging look but she just continued to stare blankly at us.
‘Come back with the forms and your passport-sized photos. You do have your passport-sized photos, don’t you?’ I bit my lip and shook my head. ‘Well then, I’d be getting a move on if I was you. We shut in two hours.’
I flashed her an insincere smile. ‘Great, well thanks for your help. Come on, Shell.’ I turned on my heel and walked to the front door.
‘Wait? She can’t be serious?’ Shelley gasped. ‘Seems a bit over the top if you ask me. What did she say about passport photos?’
‘We need some, pronto.’
Shelley nodded, then added quietly, ‘Thought you knew about this sort of stuff.’
‘Please don’t start.’
‘You ladies OK?’ Smug, gorgeous Mr India know-it-all sidled up to us as I shoved my passport back in my bag.
‘Fine,’ I muttered.
‘You don’t know where there’s a photo booth near here, do you? Or an Internet café? We need to download some forms.’ Shelley flashed him her most dazzling smile.
‘It’s fine. We’ll find somewhere.’ I placed my hand on her shoulder, trying to steer her past this irritating guy.
‘I’ve got some spare forms here that you can use.’ He rustled in his black leather man-bag. Course he did.
‘Wow, that’s really nice. Isn’t it, Georgia?’ Shelley beamed.
‘Hmm. Got a mini camera in there too to take our photos?’ I said sarkily. Why was I being so obtuse with this man? There was just something about him that got on my nerves.
Mr India laughed. ‘Nope, but there’s an ASDA not too far from here where you can get some printed. If you want, I’ll save you a place in the queue.’
I was just about to tell him that we didn’t need his help when Shelley clapped her hands and thanked him profusely before tugging me out of the doors to the supermarket.
‘He was so nice!’ she mused as we trudged over the slippery pavements. ‘And bloody gorgeous.’
‘You’re too trusting,’ I said, narrowly avoiding stepping into a pile of fresh dog turd.
‘Pfft. And you’re too cautious. You can trust people, even strangers; sometimes they really do just want to help a girl out.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ I muttered. I wanted to add that I spoke from experience of misreading people who I thought I could trust, but I stayed quiet, as in a weird way I wanted to be proved wrong.
True to his word, Mr India was indeed waiting patiently for our return holding out forms and even a stick of glue to attach our admittedly awful-looking passport photos.
‘Here you go, ladies.’ He handed them over, stifling a laugh at my photo. ‘So, Georgia Green and Shelley Robinson,’ he said, reading our names off the forms. ‘I hope you have an excellent time in India. Right, I’d better be off. Oh, my name’s Rahul, by the way.’
‘Thank you so much, Rahul!’ Shelley called out behind him just as our number was called. ‘God, what a nice guy. Shame we’re both taken; well your heart is taken, as otherwise this trip could be getting a lot hotter – and I don’t mean the spicy curries.’ She laughed, pretending to fan her face as Rahul walked off.
I mumbled a response. ‘Come on, let’s get this sorted.’
‘That was quick,’ Glasses Lady murmured as she took our forms. ‘OK, these look all right.’ I let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll get them processed and let you know if you’ve been successful.’
‘Wait –
if
we’ve been successful? So even after wasting our whole morning here it still isn’t guaranteed that we’ll be granted a visa?’ She shook her head, making her dangly earrings jangle loudly. ‘Well how long is that decision going to
I tried to stay calm. ‘So we need to go home, download the forms, fill them in and print them off then come back here? To join that queue again?’ I was so behind I just didn’t have the time for this.
‘Well, they’re the rules.’
‘Seriously?’ I gave her my best begging look but she just continued to stare blankly at us.
‘Come back with the forms and your passport-sized photos. You do have your passport-sized photos, don’t you?’ I bit my lip and shook my head. ‘Well then, I’d be getting a move on if I was you. We shut in two hours.’
I flashed her an insincere smile. ‘Great, well thanks for your help. Come on, Shell.’ I turned on my heel and walked to the front door.
‘Wait? She can’t be serious?’ Shelley gasped. ‘Seems a bit over the top if you ask me. What did she say about passport photos?’
‘We need some, pronto.’
Shelley nodded, then added quietly, ‘Thought you knew about this sort of stuff.’
‘Please don’t start.’
‘You ladies OK?’ Smug, gorgeous Mr India know-it-all sidled up to us as I shoved my passport back in my bag.
‘Fine,’ I muttered.
‘You don’t know where there’s a photo booth near here, do you? Or an Internet café? We need to download some forms.’ Shelley flashed him her most dazzling smile.
‘It’s fine. We’ll find somewhere.’ I placed my hand on her shoulder, trying to steer her past this irritating guy.
‘I’ve got some spare forms here that you can use.’ He rustled in his black leather man-bag. Course he did.
‘Wow, that’s really nice. Isn’t it, Georgia?’ Shelley beamed.
‘Hmm. Got a mini camera in there too to take our photos?’ I said sarkily. Why was I being so obtuse with this man? There was just something about him that got on my nerves.
Mr India laughed. ‘Nope, but there’s an ASDA not too far from here where you can get some printed. If you want, I’ll save you a place in the queue.’
I was just about to tell him that we didn’t need his help when Shelley clapped her hands and thanked him profusely before tugging me out of the doors to the supermarket.
‘He was so nice!’ she mused as we trudged over the slippery pavements. ‘And bloody gorgeous.’
‘You’re too trusting,’ I said, narrowly avoiding stepping into a pile of fresh dog turd.
‘Pfft. And you’re too cautious. You can trust people, even strangers; sometimes they really do just want to help a girl out.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ I muttered. I wanted to add that I spoke from experience of misreading people who I thought I could trust, but I stayed quiet, as in a weird way I wanted to be proved wrong.
True to his word, Mr India was indeed waiting patiently for our return holding out forms and even a stick of glue to attach our admittedly awful-looking passport photos.
‘Here you go, ladies.’ He handed them over, stifling a laugh at my photo. ‘So, Georgia Green and Shelley Robinson,’ he said, reading our names off the forms. ‘I hope you have an excellent time in India. Right, I’d better be off. Oh, my name’s Rahul, by the way.’
‘Thank you so much, Rahul!’ Shelley called out behind him just as our number was called. ‘God, what a nice guy. Shame we’re both taken; well your heart is taken, as otherwise this trip could be getting a lot hotter – and I don’t mean the spicy curries.’ She laughed, pretending to fan her face as Rahul walked off.
I mumbled a response. ‘Come on, let’s get this sorted.’
‘That was quick,’ Glasses Lady murmured as she took our forms. ‘OK, these look all right.’ I let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll get them processed and let you know if you’ve been successful.’
‘Wait –
if
we’ve been successful? So even after wasting our whole morning here it still isn’t guaranteed that we’ll be granted a visa?’ She shook her head, making her dangly earrings jangle loudly. ‘Well how long is that decision going to
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