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..I was wanting someone older actually,” he told her. “I did tell them that.” The girl looked disgruntled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. The...the work I do requires someone of maturity.” She looked puzzled. “Didn’t they tell you what the work involved?” She shrugged her shoulders. “They just said that you were a writer and wanted someone to type dictation.” Bill stood aside to let her in. The neighbour’s curtains opposite him were twitching. She was a nosy old bitch and the village gossip. He didn’t want her knowing his business. “Come in,” he invited. He looked her up and down as she brushed past him. Her perfume excited his nostrils but her tight woollen top accentuating her breasts and the shortish flared skirt showing long shapely legs excited him even more. He guided her down the hallway and into his study and pointed to a chair in front of a small coffee table. As she sat down he pulled up a chair and sat opposite her. “I write erotica.” Her eyes widened, showing. Ben looked at Nancy and smiled as soft, mellow music began filling the room. ‘Would you like to dance with your husband a little more, Mrs. Morris?’ he asked. Nancy nodded and, with tears of joy brimming in her eyes, she moved into her new husband’s arms and laid her head on his shoulder. They began to move easily around the room in time to the soft, romantic music. Ben was a wonderful dancer, but even if he’d been clumsy, this would have been magical as far as Nancy was concerned! She hadn’t felt this wonderful since George died, and wasn’t sure she ever would again. After a while, Nancy leaned back in Ben’s arms and looked up into his face. He had the most incredible eyes! The depth of his love for her was reflected in them, a depth that shook her a little. She loved him very much, but could she ever love him as much as he seemed to love her? ‘Ben…this…this is so wonderful!’ she whispered. ‘So wonderful.’ ‘It is, isn’t it,’ Ben replied, then he bent his head and covered her lips.
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