The car parked across their driveway at an odd angle told her they had a visitor.
She parked in the street and carried the shopping in. As she entered, she heard voices in the back. After spending a few minutes putting things away in the kitchen, she went through to the lounge. No one there. They were out the back. Two male voices talking and laughing. It was then that she saw the jacket, thrown across the back of the settee. She stood looking at it, feeling shivers running up her back. She recognised it for what it was. It was his! She had never liked the man; he was creepy. Her husband had never seemed to understand the feelings she had about him. This was the man that had always made her feel uncomfortable, the whole time he’d been their neighbour.
There was something about the way he would leer at her. It was as though he had a perfect right to spend far too long looking her over whenever they met. Another thing; it was as if he was continually posing in his old leather bomber jacket. She hated the thing. He reckoned it was a leftover from his military days, but she didn’t believe it. He would make unwanted remarks about her dress or how nice her hair looked. Her husband only saw any of these as compliments; her take on it was very different. Then came the day, just before he thankfully moved away, when he had been so completely blatant with her, asking her if she was really satisfied with her husband. That was the clincher! She never passed it on.
She took one last look at the ugly jacket, before making her way back out to the car. In the café she sent off a text.
‘Let me know when he’s gone.’