Ironed out

Sophie fantasised about a different life, until she realised what she already had¼

As Sophie started ironing the toddler' s dress, she let out a sigh and remembered how she' d thought it would be when she' d first set up her business a few months before.

She' d imagined that loads of men would get in touch with her to ask her to do their ironing, but there had only ever been one man, and she spent most of her time pressing clothes for mothers who were too busy to do their ironing themselves.

And the little clothes might be pretty, but they could be so fiddly, Sophie thought, as she carefully ironed the dress.

The women who bought the clothes obviously didn' t care how difficult they were going to be to iron, but they could be a real pain, and she' d been tempted to point this out to the women.

She hadn' t though, obviously, and she' d never said a word to Gerry about his pleated dress shirts even though they were even harder to iron.

Every time he brought some round, she just smiled sweetly and took the shirts from him as if she didn' t have a care in the world, and when he came to collect them in the afternoon, she handed them over and smiled again, telling herself she just ought to be grateful because he kept coming back.

Gerry was obviously satisfied with what she did, although he never actually mentioned her ironing, because he was always too busy talking about himself, and he always made a point of telling her why his shirts had to look good.

I' ve got some important meetings coming up in Zurich,' he' d told her the day before. I' ll need to look smart in the daytime and then I' ll be attending a couple of dinners with some extremely important clients.'

Oh, right,' she' d said, trying to imagine what it would be like to live in his sort of world. Well, don' t worry. I' ll have them ready in plenty of time.'

Yeah, great,' he' d said, before his mobile had rung and he' d set off towards her door.

He was always so busy. And so arrogant. And every time he came round, she couldn' t help remembering how she' d fantasised about having a fling with one of her customers when she' d started ironing at home.

In her mind' s eye, she' d seen herself disappearing up to her bedroom with a gorgeous, caring man, but Gerry wasn' t her type at all, although she had a feeling that he' d be up for it if she gave him the slightest bit of encouragement.

He always managed to touch her hand for longer than was necessary when he took his shirts, and he' d looked at her very appreciatively when they' d first met.

She wasn' t attracted to him though, and she knew full well that it wouldn' t mean anything to him if she took him to bed.

He'd pro bably be back on his phone within minutes and that isn't the sort of relationship I want at all, she thought sadly, as she remembered a time when she' d felt cherished and loved.

I was so happy back then and I want to feel like that again, she thought, as her doorbell rang.

Hi,' she said once she' d turned the iron off and gone to the door.

Hi,' Gerry replied with a twinkle in his eye. Are my shirts all done?'

Sophie grinned.

They certainly are. But what are you doing here at this time of day? It' s only 11 o' clock.'

There' s a problem at work. The computers are down, and I can' t do much without them, so I thought I might as well leave. Are you busy? Are you ironing?'

I was, yes, but there' s no rush. Nobody' s coming to collect their ironing until after school.'

Oh, good.' Gerry stepped into the hall and put his arms round her waist. So maybe we could go upstairs then.'

Yes. Maybe,' Sophie breathed as her heart did a dance.

We could make love and then have a cuddle and a chat like we used to in the good old days,' Gerry said, closing the door. It' s been ages since we did that. We' re always too busy and the kids are usually here.'

I know,' Sophie said, looking into her husband' s eyes for the first time in months.

But I still love you,' Gerry blurted out. I know I hardly ever say I do, but¼'

And I love you too,'

Sophie interrupted, surprising herself.

Gerry smiled. Really?'

Yes, of course,' Sophie whispered as she took his hand and wondered how she could have fantasised about being with other men.

Because Gerry was special. And not a bit like the Gerry with the shirts. He made her feel cherished and loved, and she was going to show him how much that meant to her before the kids got back from school.

He never actually mentioned her ironing because he was always too busy talking about himself