The Wall

That evening she followed the old bastard home. She wasn't sure why. She just wanted to claim back some power - but it hadn’t quite worked out like that.  She'd hoped she’d find a cold lonely bedsit or maybe an ugly block of flats so the next time he tried it on she could mock his sad, lonely life. She hadn't expected a well-to-do semi-detached in suburbia. She sat on a wall opposite his house, the temperature was dropping, she shivered. It was dark and she could see right into his living room through the open curtains. She hoped she’d see that he was alone, eating a microwaved dinner for one in front of the news. But no, he was far from alone. His wife was beautiful, early forties, blonde hair, pretty face, aged but aged well. She wondered if his wife knew about how the pig behaved in work; the lewd comments, the creepy suggestions and today he'd stepped it up; his hand on her leg, snaking its way up. She'd been frozen to her seat until the very last minute when she'd just about managed to get up and leave his office seconds before he'd touched her ‘there’. She’d heard him laughing as she left, it was just a joke to him. Why did he do it? Was it the power? Was it the thrill? Was it because she was easy meat; a blonde intern who at interview had said this was her lifelong ambition? The little scumbag knew she had nowhere to turn; if she wanted the job permanently she needed him on her side. He obviously took that to mean  inside her.

She watched his wife fussing around him, he had it on a plate but he wanted his dessert too. If the posh house and the sight of his wife depressed her, that went to a whole new level when his daughter came in the room and planted a kiss on the pervert’s cheek. The very fact that he had a daughter was bad enough but the fact Jenny knew her made it so worse and the way she looked made it worse again. It was Tessa, from her year in school; people in school had always remarked on how similar they were,  the same height, same colour hair, same ski-jump nose. Was it his daughter he really wanted, was Jenny just a handy substitute for the forbidden lust? Jenny felt sick to her stomach, she wanted to march across the road and ring the doorbell but what good would that do? His wife wouldn’t believe her, he was the boss and Jenny was just a blonde intern. Jenny pushed her glasses up her nose forgetting that she now wore contact lenses, got down from the wall and headed slowly home, resigned to the fact that she was in a lose-lose situation.