A Silent Pursuit

Cecily peered from behind the purple-painted door of her cottage-style house. She gave the paperboy ten minutes to drop the newspaper at her gate, and to the others on her line before she decided it was safe to step out. Cecily wasn’t a prude, just innately shy. She didn’t know how to speak unrehearsed.

At the gate, she saw the newspaper neatly tucked in its wicker basket. Through her bob of auburn curls, Cecily got a quick glimpse of her topless neighbor- Watson. She sighed at all that perfection in one man- it was such a crime! As usual, the man was upside down.

Watson saw a mark when he saw one. The pretty cartoonist-next-door was the next step in his plan. In the eight months of his residence in this disgustingly homely area, he was steadily progressing on his mission. He had kept his distance — just sweet smiles from safe distances. Gradually, Cecily had stopped getting intimidated by his presence. He knew Cecily was famous with deep pockets. But that wasn’t the only reason he wanted her. With a meek, unsuspecting woman by his side, he could see his projects to completion. No one suspected a loving and caring family man.

So he planned, researched, waited, and had considered the downtime as part of the job. Every day he timed his yoga-routine with Cecily’s newspaper ritual. Not that he was complaining. Watson liked to keep fit. He hit the gym regularly before posing for her (and his) benefit.

The moment he saw her coming out, he went into Sirsasana. Hearing the soft sigh, he flexed his muscles.

Cecily plucked the newspaper from its basket, but it was stuck. She pulled at it again. Nothing. She panicked and tried again. The paper wouldn’t budge. With a grunt of frustration, she tried to remove the basket.

Watson, seeing her struggle, came off his asana pose. He gave her a minute or two — as planned — and enquired from where he sat on the grass,

“Do you need any help?”

Cecily jerked at the voice. She stared at him as if he had suddenly grown tentacles.

Watson’s gentled his voice, “I think it’s stuck. Can I help?” and waited patiently, giving her a moment to process her answer.

“Ah! I…ah…I… don’t want to trouble you…”

“It’s no trouble,” Watson dazzled her with the full force of his smile.

“Ah…o…okay… Thank you,” she couldn’t help herself. He was so handsome.

Watson wandered towards her as though he had all the time in the world. He spread his long fingers inside the basket. Babbling about newspaper boys being always in a hurry, he removed the notch he had placed inside and unhooked the paper. It came out easily in his hand.

“How did you do that?” In her amazement, Cecily forgot to fumble with words.

“I have my ways.”

“Thank you. I…ah…I owe you one”.

“Well, a coffee would do.”

“Oh!” Cecily went pale.

“Only if you wish.”

“Of…of course!” Cecily’s manners got better of her. “Please come in, I just made a…a pot,” she stammered. Then added hastily, “Ah…if you…if you have time, please.”

“I always have time for a coffee with a… friend.”

Cecily flushed over the deliberate pause as Watson followed her. Behind her back, he looked down his nose — that was so easy!

With her back to him, Special Agent Cecily thought the same.