FUN DAY EXERCISE - - JUDY RIGBY

WORDSMITHS EXERCISE FOR OUR FUN DAY WEDNESDAY THE 31 AUGUST

JUDY RIGBY

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My heart soars when I see his face. I have him.

He stands as if frozen in my open doorway. His lips are parted and his eyes are blinking as if dazed in the headlights.

I resist the urge to reach out and smooth the furrow that has formed between his eyebrows. I allow a smile and the skin tightens and moves around my eyes. He registers the movement and, with a tiny shake of his head, rearranges his face. He drops his eyebrows and tries to return my smile, but only manages something between a grimace and a grin.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘where are my manners? You surprised me. I didn’t expect—’

‘You didn’t expect me to dress up?’

‘No, well, yes. I did expect you to dress up, but not like this.’

‘You don’t like what I’m wearing?’

‘I love what you’re wearing, but I—’

‘It’s too showy?’

‘Oh, no, it’s…’ he pauses and colour begins to rise in his cheeks. ‘I’ve only seen you in black before, and—

‘You think I’m immodest for abandoning black?’

He opens his mouth as if to protest and I allow myself to laugh. His eyes widen and now he smiles a smile that transforms his face and dances in his eyes.

Yes, I have him, I tell myself as I step towards him and shut the door behind me.

‘Shall we go?’ I say to him, ‘You lead the way.’

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I feel her presence behind me as I walk down the corridor. The fabric of her dress sighs and beads clink with each step she takes. I confess that the sight of her, backlit by lamplight in the open door of her luxury penthouse suite, did startle me. She looked otherworldly, a diaphanous being, and for a moment I wavered under her spell, drawn into those brown, languid eyes and aware of her siren call in the deep recesses of my brain.

Don’t be a chump, I tell myself, now. Remember who she is and why you’re here. Don’t let yourself get side-tracked.

I mentally check my pocket with its holstered Glock 27 and ignore the itch in my fingers to touch it. I try to focus on my breathing. Too fast and too shallow.

Breathe in, one, out two, in three, out four—

‘You haven’t said where we’re going,’ her voice sounds breathily close to my ear.

My heart skips a beat and the vision of her in the doorway rises into view. I gulp in more air and turn my head towards her voice. 

She’s almost at my shoulder. I catch a waft of her perfume and recognise it, Hypnotic Poison. She laughs, a melody of dancing notes that seem to swirl around my head. Sweat prickles on my brow, my mouth feels dry and my tongue won’t move.

‘Are you all right?’ her voice is barely a whisper.

No, I think, I don’t think I am.