“What are your measurements, Tanya?” Seb says as he’s packing his huge rucksack this morning. “Is it OK if I leave this shirt here?”
“Of course,” I say, taking the shirt from him. It’s my favourite one: big blue and grey checks and it feels soft. Am pleased that it will be here so I can stroke it sometimes and think of him. “Why do you want to know my measurements?” I say.
“Just in case I want to get something made for you in Thailand,” he says.
“Oooohhhh a silk dress or something?” I say. “That has cheered me up, thank you. Had better not pretend that am thinner than I am then or it won’t fit,” I say, putting some socks in my gym bag.
“Just write them down on this piece of paper,” he says, handing it to me, “and I’ll put it in my wallet. I won’t look at it.” He smiles at me.
“I’ll overestimate a bit,” I say, “I mean, if it’s too big can always get it taken in whereas if it’s too small…”
Scribbling down some measurements on the bit of paper, I hand it back to him.
Somehow we make it out of the house in time for my training session at the gym and have a goodbye cuddle outside the front gates of the flat.
Later, I’m sitting eating The Omelette and watching The World At War. The flat phone rings.
“Hello my darling,” Seb says.
Looking at my phone, I see that it’s 2.50pm. His flight is in an hour.
“Hello darling, are you OK? have you checked in?” I say.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry,” he says. “Look, I just wanted to tell you something and…”
“Go on,” I say.
“Well there’s a bottle of my port at my Dad’s and I want you to have it,” he says. The line crackles. It’s not great reception.
“Excellent,” I say. “Thank you darling. I like port. Have a safe flight.”
“See you very soon my lovely,” he says.
In fact we won’t see each other for almost a month. Am going to miss that boy.
Tomorrow am going to visit my fluffy monster and cuddle him all over. Need some orange cuddles.
Happy Thursday everyone!
*1934. By Dorothy L. Sayers. Detective novel, the ninth in the Lord Peter Wimsey series.
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 