A single life, west end London studio apartment, small kitchenette/living room one bedroom, bathroom with roll top bath.
Right up Matilda’s street, she called, got a viewing, within six months she was all moved in.
It could not have gone better if she tried, it was compact what did she need a lot of space for? She even had a balcony with a half way decent view.
If only her love life had been so perfect, but then would she have stayed interested.
Married men, were her achillies heel, married men with a vast fortune even better.
‘Pearls and lace, pink powder puff, vibrant scarlet lipstick, all lace and no panties.’
That is what she heard women say about her, Matilda didn’t pretend it didn’t hurt.
‘Rich men’s concubine.’
Was another. Matilda just smiled, they were only jealous.
Tea room gossips with their life in the Autumn to winter years.
Matilda had not been turned away from her favourite tea room yet. Her money was just as good as anyone elses.
Let the old hags and crones gossip, for all she knew they were prudes.
Jealous prudes who, were old and on the shelf, turkey necks in ‘ Chanel’ suits with old dears eau de toilette that should poured down the toilet.
Matilda sipped her tea and smiled, unashamedly.