Love to Hate You: Ask Vicky...

Chapter Six - Friday Feeling

Rudy was sat in his consultation room, thinking about Vicky. It had been six says since she'd invited herself into his flat to watch TV and play with his daughter. Since then, she'd stopped by with a box of old princess dolls; she'd given him an "Aerial" and "Eric" from The Little Mermaid - dressed up for their wedding day - a "Cinderella", and a "Belle" from Beauty and the Beast.

'Y'know,' Vicky had said, seeming uncharacteristically awkward, considering she was a brash woman with no shame. 'I'm obviously too old for them, and Evie's probably got a load of stuff at home, but I didn't know if she'd have all this crap at yours? I thought she might like to keep them here?' Without waiting for a reply, she'd continued. 'She might be too old for them. I don't think so, but kids aren't my thing. I've no idea what they're into.'

'They're -' Rudy had tried to say, before Vicky had rambled some more.

'The Eric; I reckon he's hard to come by. I mean, you don't normally see the princes for sale. Maybe you can get them in the Disney Store or something, but I don't shop there, obviously.'

'Obviously,' Rudy had said. 'Thanks. She'll love these. Are you sure though? Maybe Eric's worth a lot of money?'

'Nah,' Vicky had said, waving him off. 'Eric was too preppy for my liking. Evie can have them.'

'Do you want something for them?'

'Hey!' she'd scolded. 'I might not live in the penthouse but I don't need to resort to flogging my childhood toys, okay?'

'Okay,' Rudy had replied flatly.

'Well, that's all. Not coming in. Just thought I'd dig them out for Evie.' Then she'd gone without as much as a "goodbye". Rudy supposed that Vicky had been awkward because she was self-conscious about her inexperience with children, but she was a natural. Perhaps not a natural mother, but a natural friend; someone for a young girl to look up to, at the very least.

That morning, Rudy had met Vicky in the stairwell as they both made their way to work. She was wearing tight, high-waisted cigarette pants, with a fitted blouse which hugged her figure to perfection. Her hair looked as though it'd had new highlights put in, with golden strands blending into caramel and the odd dash of chocolate. Her hair was glossy and freshly cut, and her lips were outlined with the crispest flick of rouge he'd ever seen on a woman; no smudges, nor bleed lines.

'You look nice,' he'd told her.

'You think?'

'Yes. I like the hair.'

'Thanks,' Vicky had said, with an appreciative smile. Rudy was quite certain she'd felt the way his eyes had traced the curves of her body.

'Just fancied a change, or have you got a big day? Important meeting or something?' he'd asked.

'We've got an interim report from that management consultant today. I've kind of got a bad feeling about it, so I figured, if I'm going to get bad news, I might as well look seven-hundred-thousand pounds whilst getting it.'

'I think it's "a million dollars",' Rudy had told her.

'I'm British, and I'm allowing for the exchange rate.'

'Right... Well, I hope you don't get bad news.' He'd given her a sympathetic smile and she'd given him one of fake confidence. 'See you, then,' he'd said.

'Yeah. Maybe later; to drown my sorrows,' she'd deadpanned.