four o'clock is when children leave school and go home. i'm rarely out in the streets that time, that is, here, in almost-suburban london. so the sight of uniformed boys and girls, ties and skirts, always strikes me as strange, exotic. today, cycling on a side street, i saw three girls walking. Excuse me! one of demanded. and again: excuse me! they were 14, i guessed, but wore make up. i slowed down.
"she fancied you", pointing to her friend. i picked up my pace. oh the sweet childhoos of inner city kids. oh blessed innocence. is there something about the way i look that makes me look like i'm interested in 14 year olds? i shuddered. trying to chase away any tiny drops of possible smugness - after all, not everyday i'm said to be fancied. aaaarghghg. creep.
and the strange use of the past tense. only someone who hasn't got an idea of what it is could use past simple.