Microcosms this week offered us (you still have time to join in):
Spinster, London, Comedy
Marigold sat, nervously gripping her bag. The dating agency was her last resort. Sylvia, the woman interviewing her, tried a smile. ‘Don’t be nervous. Just a few questions and I’m sure we’ll fix you up, someone as attractive as you. So name?’
‘Fagin? As in…’
‘Hmm.’ Sylvia’s frown disturbed her smooth forehead.
Sylvia looked up, relaxing. ‘You’d never guess. Do you work?’
‘Yes. It’s a family business. Working with children, giving them unusual apprenticeship experiences and, er, garden design.’
‘Garden design?’ Sylvia’s forehead re-creased.
‘Fencing. Oh and security.’
She swallowed as she glanced at Marigold, who blushed.
‘Where do you live?’
‘Limehouse. East London. We like the ambience. Well, the fog, mostly.’
‘It makes the security easier.’
The beetled brow took on an alarming ridged quality. ‘Oh yes?’
‘They don’t see us coming.’
‘Right.’ Sylvia dabbed the perspiration away. ‘So you’ve had boyfriends I take it?’
‘Oh, yes, they just never stay.’
‘Do they say why?’
‘Generally, they only talk to my brother. After that they tend not to call.’
‘And you don’t think that can be part of the reason?’
‘Kevin’s ever so polite. He just takes an interest. The last one he showered around one of the building sites we secure. He didn’t turn up again, either. Kevin was surprised; he said he thought Grant showed concrete promise. Or was it promise as concrete? I do get muddled.’
Sylvia took a moment to regain her composure. ‘Can I be honest with you, Marigold?’
Marigold looked startled, then affronted. ‘Oh no, I really don’t think so. No that wouldn’t do. What would Kevin say?’