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Copyright Oggbashan October 2006
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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Malcolm wanted me to go away for a long weekend. I was reluctant because I didn't think our relationship was developed enough. How much did he want me? How far would he go to prove that I was the one?
That Friday evening I was on the till in the local branch of a national chemist. I sit facing the till with my legs underneath a boxed in area. The customer places their basket in front of me. As I swipe each barcode I put the product in the carrier bag beside me. I turn my body slightly but most of the time I face the till. How I sit is important, as is the uniform I wear.
I wear a patterned blouse with a plain tabard. My skirt is unfashionably full, calf-length and candy striped. I wear black pantyhose or stockings with sensible black shoes. The skirt is designed so that no matter how far a shop assistant has to reach up or down nothing could possibly be revealed.
Malcolm came into the shop about an hour before we closed. He waited until I had no customers before approaching me.
"Hello, Elaine," He said. "How are you?"
"OK, thank you, Malcolm," I replied, "but you didn't come here just to say 'Hello', did you?"
"No..."
"I'm still thinking about it."
