Today started with the usual rush for my rarely punctual train. Typically it’s only ever on time when I’m late, which is almost never. I settle in to my familiar seat for 30 minutes reading of the ever righteous Grauniad. During which time I wish I’d followed my heart and become a journalist! Instead I’m a frustrated down trodden company secretary.
Today I’ve set aside for filing. As in company returns rather than cabinets, or my nails. This is not an exciting prospect. In fact there is no prospect of any excitement today at all.
As I begin my familiar walk to the office from the station, the tap tap of fast moving expensive high heels behind me draws my attention. I turn my head. A warm smile shines in to my face. Red shoes! The reporter from the Moon newspaper.
“It’s Ian isn’t it?” She beams “Remember me?” How could I forget. “Of course” I mumble. “Fancy a quick coffee, before work Ian” she touches my arm. I think, Oh God, how can I resist?
I find myself sitting in a soft comfortable chair in a coffee shop. Red Shoes is seated opposite me, barely a metre away. Her lips are possibly redder than her shoes and her teeth are certainly whiter than freshly laid snow. She’s talking. I have no idea what she is saying. My eyes shift from her dark brown eyes to her animated smiling mouth and on to her dark wavy hair. I’m mesmerised. She touches my arm ever so gently again. She has perfectly manicured nails I notice. She must file them regularly. Maybe filing isn’t so boring after all. I awake as if from a dream. She knows I’m a man of integrity, who is honest, decent, responsible and experienced. Oh God I think again. I used to be. But am I still? I close my eyes. “Concentrate man, now concentrate!” I say to myself under my breath. She wriggles on the leather seat, adjusting her short suit skirt, and leans towards me. Her cleavage is there for me to enjoy but I’m transfixed by her smile as she speaks focussing intently on me. Despite my absent mind I gather that she’s in need of some help from me. She thinks I’m the ideal person.
She is wanting to run a series of articles on ethical practices by UK government contractors. She pauses every now and then to ensure she has my complete attention. She needn’t bother. For me beyond the two of us there is no other world. It feels like I’m in heaven and she’s an angel singing to me.
She asks me if I can help her with her articles. I smile back, nod confidently and say “of course”. “Perfect” she purrs. Then she squeezes my hand and ever so gently kisses my cheek. Then she gets up, smooths her skirt over her shapely thighs and says she will be in touch and leaves.
I sit there as if in a trance. Did this really happen? I finish my coffee. Then walk on clouds from the coffee shop. I know I will tell her everything even if it does breach our lawyer’s Fastbuck Made’s gagging agreement. And to tell you the truth I don’t care!