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Once she’d realised what the knocking was, Claire leapt from the sofa, turned off the TV and threw open the door. Her face fell.
“Oh, Lewis, it’s you.”
He barged past her and flopped on the sofa, dumping his bag in the doorway. “What, were you expecting someone else?” he snorted.
“N…no. I…I just didn’t expect you to be back so soon. How was your trip?” He merely grunted, focused on the football, so Claire turned to her roommate, who was trying to sneak into her bedroom. “So Susan how was it?”
“Er, it was - it was good, thanks,” she mumbled, not looking at Claire.
But Susan didn’t succeed in hiding the purplish-grey flower, which had bloomed around her eye.
“How on earth did you get that black eye?” Claire asked, shocked.