‘You’re alone,’ she said, looking up from the cards, ‘but not for long. A man will soon enter your life. Tall and strong, his arrival will be unexpected.’
The following morning there was a knock on my door when my cleaner would usually be letting herself in. A young man thrust his hand forward. ‘Miss Kate?’
‘Do I know you?’ I said.
‘I’m Schandra’s brother, Basil.’
Unexpected. Tall and strong too. He had a face sculpted into geometric planes, its hardness softened by creamy eyes.
‘Come in,’ I said. ‘Come in.’
He seemed keen to talk and when he stopped for morning tea he told me he’d just arrived in the country, and was hoping to settle down. I felt a rapport between us.
It was more than that. So when he finished I followed him. He looked back at me as he rounded into High St and again at Dennison. I waved. His pace quickened. He wanted me to come. Our eyes met in the station car park but then he disappeared.
Later there was another knock. ‘Kate Newsome.’
‘That’s me.’ I unsnibbed the door and opened it wide.
A policeman.
Tall and strong.
small stories about love 