Wild Fiction
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‘Over there, in the corner,’ James said pointing at a large oak panelled wardrobe.
She looked to where he was pointing and noticed the wardrobe for the first time.
‘Was that there a moment ago?’ she asked turning back to him. James did not reply. He was looking up at the window as if he had not heard her question.
She pulled the doors open and examined the contents. It was full of women’s clothes. Everything was new and unworn, pressed and folded or hanging neatly. She pulled out a few items and looked at the labels. Designer labels, every one of them. The dresses were all size eight, the waists on the skirts, shorts and trousers were all twenty-six inches. The styles were faultless and the colours perfect.
She looked back at James and he nodded at her. She turned her back on him, stripped off her dress suit, and threw it on the floor. She pulled a pair of denim jeans from the middle of a pile of five. She wriggled into them, jiggling her hips as she did so. They clung to her legs, thighs, and callipygous buttocks like a coat of fresh blue paint. She pulled on a black T-shirt and tied a sweatshirt around her waist. When she turned around, she saw that James was blushing.
‘Was I not discreet enough for you?’ she said her mouth pulling tight at the edges in a mock smile. She sat on the floor and pulled on a pair of suede leather Timberland boots before jumping up and stamping her feet, testing the new footwear.
‘Um...it wasn’t...um...that,’ James mumbled. ‘It’s the author. He must have done a lot of work studying the female form while I was asleep. I think that he’s finally found the right formula. I wish Juliet and Julia had had your body.’ James’s face flushed red again and he looked away. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.’
‘That was a very nice compliment,’ she said pushing herself up on her toes and stretching up to give him a kiss on the cheek. His face reddened even more and she giggled and slapped him on his bum. ‘Let’s go,’ she said.
The ladder was leaning up against the window, which now lay open ready for their escape. She climbed up it, scrambled out of the window, and onto a patch of grass protected from the rest of the garden by a thick bush.
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