People Watching
Some time ago I wrote a post about the pretty lady that rents out the house opposite the office where I work – about our chance encounters on mornings and evenings, and the smiles we exchange. I'm usually turning the pedals of my bike, and she's usually wrapped up like an eskimo, walking her dog.
Over time we've come to know each other's habits – or rather, come to expect the times we might cross paths. After arriving at work, clearing the first emails, and sorting myself out, I invariably end up in the kitchen making a coffee, and absent mindedly gaze from the window while waiting for the kettle to boil (unless a co-worker arrives and engages me in mundane conversation about the weekend, the weather, or whatever else comes to mind). Over time I've come to learn that the pretty lady leaves for work at about the same time I make coffee. Perhaps once a week we spot each other, and exchange smiles. It's almost become “a thing”.
Apparently I'm not the only person that has noticed when she leaves.
One of the owners of the estate the office resides within – a member of a wealthy family surrounded by all manner of hearsay in the hereabouts – has for some reason chosen to live in the house next door to the pretty lady. I had not seen him formonths until she moved in, but now I see him almost every day – leaving his house while making my coffee, and slowly walking past hers, glancing at the windows as he does so. One day last week he took half a pint of milk round, timed expertly to coincide with her getting changed for work. I wouldn't dare suggest anything other than innocent intentions – but I did grin when I saw it all unfold.