She greets me, a smile and a nod. It is to be expected after all these days, weeks, nay months, of waiting for an acknowledgment. It’s I, of course, who’ve made the effort, discreetly watched and taken note, but recognition is after all a two way process.
This woman, who will once have been a beauty with pale rose complexion pampered by Elizabeth Arden, blonde curls coiffured to stroke the contours of those fine boned cheeks, cannot be ignored. Even with time’s cruel ravages, the crumpling, drooping, pouching, she is the one you turn to twice.
He will need to be eliminated. The husband with flat cap, brown trousers, fawn anorak is a disgrace beside her fine red wool coat, elegant court shoes, and trim hat.
I await her spoken greeting, for, after all, the voice is all important; so hoping for a tone, an accent that will match. It can’t be long now before I’ll know whether, despite the poor marital choice, I can use her.
You must agree that finding the right character is a damned difficult business.