Although her mummy had taught her many words, she only recognized them in context, large rounded typeface in the comfortable pages of her storybooks, the words on the sweetie jars were formal and upright and meant nothing to her. The little boy was far more interested in what he could see from his lowest of vantage points, barely over the display counter, through the jars of coloured sweets, he could see his auntie Katy inside, her shoulders quaking as she shared a joke with Jessie. He loved watching her, with his dark brown baby eyes, her curly blonde hair pinned neatly up inside her hat, a little confection of rusty brown felt with a matching satin band and a little blue feather cocked along its brim, all held tightly in place with a pearl headed pin, jammed optimistically into the pile of curls inside. The little boy kicked rhythmically at the wall, smiling his secret smile of love and admiration for her. Irene’s thoughts were miles away studying the tenement building 40 feet. I could feel the heat rising in my body and spilling over my hips and down my thighs, ending in a tingling sensation at my toes. I wanted him, more than anything, more than I did five years ago. I made sure he knew it in my feverish kisses. And he did, he dropped his hands to my backside and as if I weighted no more than wet leaf placed me on the desk. I tipped my head back, opening my neck and chest for anything of his choosing. With a flash of his rakish smile he began placing kisses down my jawline and my neck. I turned so I could reach his ear. Just as I remembered, my suckling at his ear lobe, and caressing with my tongue quickly sent a tremble down his back and his hands became ever more desperate for my skin. He used his muscular legs and parted my knees so he could step between them and get even closer to me, and again, with a deep breath I pushed my chest closer to his. He reached down and began pulling my skirts up and over my knees, offering even more skin to use at his.
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