Connie vowed that she would not go through times like these again. She was too old and set in her ways to move house and settle into a new place and feel comfortable with her new surroundings and neighbours. Some had already made themselves known to her as the removal people carted her belongings and furniture into the refurbished house that had been close to becoming a tumble-down wreck. And yet it had charm, and she had seen possibilities for it that Tom, the son of her closest friend, had made possible. His building and technical skills were the difference between a simple makeover and doing the place justice, making it a real home for her.
The first thing she had organised was the creation of her home office, a conversion of the dining room, with its ornate tile surround to its cast-iron fireplace, into an area where she could work and create her closed-off world. That place of activity was very distinct from the rest of the house and had been transformed into a bright and open-plan ground floor that had views of the garden and the fields beyond the hedge.
Tom had been the motivator in bringing the house and its electrical services right up to date. He had designed the ring mains that those with the technical certificates installed for her, and that he simply cast an inquisitive eye over and assured her it had been done as was required. Tom was gifted, a student in technical matters, and soon to complete his final year at university. Sarah Nolan had been a friend for years and Tom had been easily persuaded to be of help to her when she had announced to Sarah that she was intent on moving, a bitterly fought divorce finally brought to a conclusion.
"I have my work and business to run," Sarah had been told when she had asked how life was after the divorce finally came through and she set out on a new life's path. What she had not told Sarah was that an unlikely, but noticeable, bond was forming with Tom; one that could not be readily explained save that he had become infatuated with her, and she was a little taken by his attentive ways after everything that she had been through.
It was just what she needed; no formal ties or weighty expectations of someone else, but company. Tom was twenty-two and hardly a child to become besotted over, but his attentiveness was disconcerting. She knew what lay behind his appraising eyes, in what she believed she could hear when he sighed and would look away and resume his work of installing light fittings as well as a sound system that would play music in the house, wherever she was, and activated by her happy and lilting voice that would often sound as if she was about to break into song.
She was happy by nature and having Tom around during his summer vacation, and knowing how prodigiously hard he worked, compensated for so much. Of this, she did not speak to Sarah, or she would get to wondering if she had not become a little smitten with the young man whom she now heard knocking on her office door.
"Come in!" she called out, "come in, you're not disturbing me. I need a break!"
"Hi, Connie," she saw him smile, a fleeting pout of his lips soon suggesting to her what was again on his mind on seeing her. She was at work, in her home, and had dressed accordingly, no one to see her but Tom who was clearing up after all the electrical tradesmen had left a day or so ago. Their work was finally done and she would no longer be disturbed, and her working days hindered, by their presence. "I think I'm all through with the last of the fitting out, but perhaps you could come and have a look? I just want to be sure it's all as you want it to be."
"Of course, I can, Tom." She smiled and moved away from behind her workstation, her swivel chair creaking and the skirt of her dress slipping up, over her thighs. It was soon smoothed out and she stepped towards him.
"I'll miss being here, you know. I'll wonder how to fill the time, but I have my uni work to deal with," he confessed.
"Concentrate on that, then."
"Yeah, sure," Tom was heard to laugh softly as if in dismay at what had been said. "I'm going to have to try."
How direct and honest he was in giving voice to his feelings, she thought.
For her working day, she had chosen to wear a faux crossover dress with a ruched cloth belt, its hem finishing just above the knee, and a black bandeau worn underneath. The mute patterns on her deep green dress flattered her waist and the swell of her large breasts, and she loved the feel of the soft fabric on the skin of her thighs. It flattered her long, fleshier legs, and with the sleeves pulled up to her elbows, her slender arms. On her wrists and long-fingered hands were to be seen a variety of tinkling bracelets and glittering jewelled rings, and even if she was a professional woman she allowed her hair to be a riot of long sandy red tresses that fell below her shoulders.
She believed that it made her look younger, enchanting, and as she would have appeared when she had first been married. The toll of those days, and lonelier times since, were to be seen on her face, on her softly lined forehead, and in the wistful look of her blue-grey eyes.
Tom would have seen all of that, for she often caught him glancing her way and she felt flattered that she had that effect upon him. What he did not know, for nothing so far had ever been said by either of them, was that she took more than a passing interest in the young man that she now saw before her.
"You're looking at me again in that way of yours, Tom," she smiled, her look on him wondering. It was meant to provoke a response that might explain how he behaved when she was close and they could talk.
"Mum said that I should just get on with the work that I'm doing for you and not be a nuisance. But, I've sorted out the downlighters and will tidy everything up once you've seen what I've done, and that it all works as you wanted."
"As we agreed on, don't forget that, Tom."
He smiled wonderfully at her and nodded. "Yes, I won't forget that. The customer's always right, or nearly, unless I suggest a better idea for the work that's needed. I'm learning that in the business a friend and I have already started..."
"Have you?" she asked in some amazement. It was news to her.
Tom drew closer as they stood in her living room, open-planned and airy, now, after the work she had instructed others to do and that he had suggested. He had worked around other trades and installed a wiring loop that would give her the lighting effects she wanted and might need in the future.
"Yes, I have an electronics business that's already getting some attention from investors. So, it's all study work, projects, and my own projects work...work that leaves little time for other distractions."
"Girlfriends you mean?" she suggested, looking over her shoulder as she went to the light switches by the door and tried all the settings he had installed. "Tom?"
She looked at him now through different eyes as his look upon her was met. It was the unmistakable, desiring, look of a broad-shouldered young man who moved with a purposeful and athletic grace, the confidence that he showed in dealing with the tasks she had set, and agreed with him, and that had soon made her ideas a reality. He would push the fingers of one hand through his short and wiry brown hair that had a ragged parting on the left side of his head, his actions having little effect upon it and she took it to be out of nerviness to be with her.
She felt her heart flutter. Was the young man coming onto her and how could she begin to deny that the idea of it affected her?
