Temporary Secretary

Part 55

17 July 1981

Evening, Friday

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You were sat on the floor by the window, rested on the windowsill gazing out.

You always did like the windows in this flat. They were very big, and let in a lot of lovely natural light (when there was natural light to be found). There were sheer curtains, and then older darker drapes. They added to the homey atmosphere of the flat, a lot of antique looking things, making the place look lived in.

You supposed he didn't put effort into modernising the decor every now and then. With his schedule, and then his lack of interest in it. But you liked what he did do, just to make his space comfortable. It was similar in taste to what you'd expect from a household from the 40s or 50s, minus the washing line strung through the middle.

You'd had a shift earlier that day, and gone out to the city center. There were more tourists now that it was warm. A bit more crowded on the buses.

You thought you'd been hiding it well with your summer dresses, but today had been the first time somebody had gotten up to give you a spare seat.

You knew the gesture was by all means, 'doing the right thing', yet you couldn't help but feel a little flustered, being put on the spot.

You weren't huge, but it was becoming a little more evident clothed. You were thin to begin with, so when it began to grow, where it was, it was clearly not you simply putting on regular weight.

You had a pretzel as you walked through Hyde Park. It was a good sunny day, though not too hot. You hoped it'd continue like this, you dreaded the thought of too much heat, especially in your present condition.

However, you liked getting out to walk. If you didn't, you'd become lethargic and sluggish, which was far worse than some achiness now in your hips.

Paul had been coming home earlier nowadays, as promised. However, it was nearly seven, and still no sight of him.

You were not upset, or worried, or things of that sort. You didn't really need him to come so early every day. After all, there wasn't even a baby yet. Maybe then, but not now. It was better for him to get things done in the office as needed.

Maybe it was for the company... back when you still worked with him, you would often stay later, indulging him. You were also indulging yourself, really.

Far from a professional work environment, it was.

It didn't seem so late. The sun wouldn't go down until nine or so.

—

Paul came home about half past nine. A bit on the later end. You had made dinner, but the stovetop was off, and it was kept warm by the lid covering it.

You always felt happy seeing him again at the end of the day, seeing his face again, when it came through the door. Very sitcom-esque.

It wasn't your fault. It must be a biological reaction now, endorphins released by association and familiarity of him, due to the many times you've engaged in the act.

"I've got a surprise!" He said.

He had his hands clasped together, a mannerism of his when pleased.

"Is it your wanger again?" You said.

You could appreciate his qualities, but not reflect his foolishness.

Paul grinned.

"It's bigger!" He said.