I did not attempt anything for the next couple of days. I used the time for digesting the information and letting my mind relax itself for the task ahead. It was what I always did before a swimming race; I wasn’t ready if my mind was not psyched out for it properly.
Luckily, everybody left me in peace. Steve didn’t ring and the police had nothing more that they needed to tell me.
I was being given time off work. All the time off that I wanted. It seemed that they hadn’t yet got their heads round the fact that I was probably one of world’s most contented widows right then.
Pete was always obsessed with espionage; it was his dream job to be a spy. Instead he got stuck working as a clerk for some ‘big city’ lawyer, a job, he had told me once, that was all stamping and paperwork, and no parties or frolics. At least it paid well.
I had tried to go the athletic route, swimming in competitions and building myself up to Olympics standards. Unfortunately, I was never good enough and, when I fell pregnant, I lost my figure. So, my mother managed to persuade me (how I don’t know) to take up a university course from home, where I could then learn how to earn a living whilst caring for my newborn son.
So that was how I ended up working at the Natural History Museum. Not glamorous, I know, but it was nice to see that I was doing a favour for the community and meeting many new faces along the way.
My job was to maintain the Latin and Greek exhibitions, to keep them well preserved, as well as offering an insight into common village-life to the visitors. I told them about the history of such artifacts and even gave my language skills the polish the needed by translating stone texts right before the visitors’ eyes. I said it wasn’t very glamorous, but, some days, by being in the spotlight, it really did feel ‘all that’!