All Sarah could do was wait for his call. That’s what he’d said ‘Wait for my call’ and even if she didn’t do that she was unsure what else she’d do.
She wandered through the house, room to room, her hair piled on her head and her silky dressing gown wrapped around her. She wondered if she should rearrange her wardrobes, swapping wintry items for summer ones but decided against it, she’d never do a good job if her mind wasn’t on it. For the first hour she had managed to entertain herself by lounging in the bath then painting her nails, but now she felt slightly forlorn.
She laid down on the bed, and smelt the pillow where he lay. It smelt like his hair, clean with a hint of aftershave. She wondered how much longer the call might be, how long did these things take? She rolled over, propped herself up on an elbow and opened the bedside drawer. He’d left his cuff links. She couldn’t remember if he’d been wearing them last night.
Last night he’d taken her for dinner, a glitzy affair, and he’d told her she looked beautiful. She knew she had, she was wearing a dress that flattered her body, with just the right amount of cleavage on show. He hadn’t looked so bad himself, and he hadn’t even mentioned Rachel so the evening had been full of light-hearted laughter and kisses.
She put the cufflinks back in the drawer and sat up, idly flicking through a magazine. How strange, she thought, that you could waste a whole day just thinking, waiting. She wondered if he’d changed his mind, if he no longer wanted to.
The phone rang. It was time.