by Alan Townend
aloud at her unkempt appearance at least from the back. When he
came to sit at his desk and see her from the front, something inside
him snapped. He felt strange and this to him was totally out of order
because he didn't usually take much notice of young women in the
office especially if they looked as disorderly as she did. But she did
have wonderfully blue eyes and a dazzling smile though perhaps her
lower lip was a little lopsided. She had come, she explained to query
a decision about the garage she wanted to be built next to her
house. As she clumsily argued her case, Maurice found he was not
listening but gazing into her bright blue eyes. His thoughts for the
first time in his life were jumbled and chaotic. At the end of her
explanation he found himself agreeing to her objection and even
against his will he was asking her out. Within weeks they were
engaged and not longer after they married in a small church with a
crooked spire, which actually made Maurice laugh. They now have
two children whose toys lie higgledy-piggledy over the floor. They
run helter-skelter to meet visitors. I say «they» but in fact the
younger one runs up to you in a zigzag fashion, the older one walks
sedately. His mother is convinced that the latter will make an ideal
planning officer. She said this once in front of him and almost as if
he understood, he walked up to his mother and tried to straighten
her tousled hair.