Thirty-One Years Ago

A figure steps down from the bus: Central Station - Barnbridge. She’s a pretty girl, but she wears a dowdy print dress in a style that was fashionable twenty years ago, but which now makes the wearer look as though she is destined for spinsterhood or a life as a librarian.

The girl looks around, her brilliant green eyes alight with excitement, darting here and there, picking out busy people, fashionable skirts and blouses, jeans cut low at the waist and tight at the thigh, and trendy sneakers in bright colours.

Smiling delightedly, she sets out, following the crowds. A roadside stand is serving something that smells of sizzle and onions and she orders a large one, paying for it from a handful of notes curled up in a pocket. The stand owner raises a brow as he sees the money this young girl is carrying.

She doesn’t care. She’s rich. She’s never had so much money to spend. Seeing brightly lit windows and neon lights she walks along, eating her burger. Nothing has ever tasted so good as this first taste of freedom. Wiping a little mustard sauce from the corner of her mouth, she stares in through the window at a dazzling display: dresses and trousers and shoes and hats and bags and bracelets and earrings, all in lovely colours and fashionable styles like the ones she sees around her. Clutching her pocket full of money, she goes in.

An hour later, another figure emerges; this one wears a designer skirt and blouse, cut slinkily to frame a blooming figure, and with a matching jacket, bag and shoes. She teeters a little in the high heels, but who cares? She’ll soon get used to them.

As she walks along the road, heads turn. This isn’t just a pretty girl. This is a beautiful woman….

…. or so it appears….

She enjoys flaunting herself, seeing the faces following her. She has never been admired before. What fun!

She realises that she’s becoming hungry again. Also that the shopfronts, one by one, are blinking dark. Never mind. There’s a big hotel at the end of the road. It looks lovely. Just the place.

A bit wobbly in the shoes, she heads for the hotel, smiling brightly when the doorman in his smart green uniform holds the door open for her.

looking at the remaining money in her hand. Uncertainly, she looks back

detaches itself from a dark nook and

an all-night cafe with a cup of coffee in a cheap cup beside her, she pulls the expensive jacket tightly around herself, shivering a little as the door swings

later, a voice says, “Do you

pair of dark, wide-set eyes set in a handsome smiling

that alright?” repeats the stranger. “You don’t mind,

the waitress serves him a mug

the waitress passes it to him, he says to Shelly, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Jason.” He offers her a hand to shake. No-one has ever shaken her

“I’m Shelley.”

Then he stops and turns back to her. “I’m so sorry. It’s been a long day. I really am forgetting my

say. She has never been in

like?” He offers her

on the table and that’s what you eat. “That sounded nice,

back to the waitress.

waitress gives him a sharp look but takes the order. And when ham and eggs sizzle fragrant steam at her, Shelly doesn’t notice the

I’ve seen you

I’ve only just

“On holiday? Visiting family?”

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