No-ones anything - a short story written by Berni Albrighton

 “Hello, can I help?”

The assistant looked straight at me.

“Oh, don't mind me, I'm just his wife, he makes all the decisions”

Derek proceeded to puff up his chest.

Here we go, I thought to myself.

He took the folded paper from his pocket.

“Right young man, I have a few questions about this tv here”

I walked off and left them to it.

Looking back, I saw they were in deep conversation. A ceiling light shone on to the back of Derek's sweaty head. 

Christ, what a complete nob that man is, I thought to myself.

 Walking back towards the store entrance, I spotted a cafe.

Derek would be a good hour and I wasn't going to stand around like the little woman while he preened his way through the purchase of a new tv.

A few minutes later, drinking the hot sweet coffee, I lost myself in thoughts about where my life was going. 

I took out my notebook and started writing. 

“Excuse me. I couldn't help but notice your beautiful pen. Is it a Montblanc?”

I looked up at the handsome man standing before me.

“Yes. It was my Grandmothers”

“It’s lovely. Are you a writer, only I noticed you writing in your notebook. Sorry, my name is Damien. Let me buy you a coffee”

Without waiting, he headed off and returned with two coffees.

“ Do you mind if I join you?”

Time flew.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm.  One minute laughing and the next debating furiously over everything and nothing.

“I could talk with you all day, Jenny” he said.

Over his shoulder I could see Derek standing up, ready to leave.

“Well Damien, I have to go I’m afraid. Thank you for the coffee “

I stood and stretched out my hand expecting that he would shake it. Instead he gently pulled me to him.

“Here is my number” he whispered as he kissed my cheek.

“Give me a call, please. I would love to see you again”

I walked away. I could feel him watching me. 

“Right, let's get off home then” ordered Derek. ”We need to move things around, the new tv is being delivered later on”

He never asked how I had entertained myself for the past hour. He didn't even look at me.

I reached into my pocket and touched the card that Damien had given me. I thought of his kiss, the smoothness of his skin, the smell of his aftershave.

I wouldn't see him again, I knew that much.

Once home I went straight to the bedroom and took out my pen and notebook.

The words flowed effortlessly.

 ‘I am never again going to refer to myself as just somebody's wife. I am not ‘just’ anything. I am my own woman. I am attractive. I am desirable. I am strong.

I closed my notebook and 

went downstairs where Derek was manhandling the tv set.

“Can you put that down please and look at me. We need to talk”

The end.