by Michele Ann Young
I thought I might ask my heroine, Lucinda Graham, to talk to us today. Graham is not her real last name, but since there a couple of people who she would prefer not to find her, I don't want give her real identity away.
Michèle: Welcome to the Casablanca blog, Lucinda. I understand your story will be in stores any day now and then the whole truth will come out, but in the meantime, perhaps you could tell us a bit about your story?
Lucinda: Who is this us? And why are you wearing, (peeks at the interviewers legs) pantaloons?
Michèle: Actually these are called jeans or pants.
Lucinda: They certainly look very comfortable. But doesn’t your husband get all hot and bothered seeing your legs, like that?
Michèle: Well yes they do look rather good.... Can we please get back on topic? The us I spoke of are your readers. People who care about you.
Lucinda: And they won’t tell my husband where I am?
Michèle: Believe me, women today are very good at helping other women flee men who think they are lords.
Lucinda: What did you want to know?
Michèle: Well, you are what some people call today a plus-sized woman, you know ample, generously curved. Did you get teased growing up?
Lucinda: I’d like to see anyone tease me, when I have four enormous brothers. And besides my whole family is large. Tall and handsomely proportioned. No, all my troubles started after I got married. For some reason, it was then my husband started complaining about my weight and wanting me to change. I think part of the problem came when he saw people looking at us, because he is rather skinny and I am an inch or too taller than he is. (sigh) Why he couldn’t have discovered that before we were married I don’t know. Too busy counting my money, I think.
Michèle: So you left him?
Lucinda: It was a bit of a risk, really. I had the small fund my father settled on me when I married, and I’d invested it, pretending to be a widow. I did quite well. When D- my husband indicated he wanted me to be his hostess at a horrid country house party with all his dissipated friends and hinted there would be fun and games behind closed doors, other people’s closed doors, I decided enough was enough. I found this nice little house in Kent and here I am, quiet as a mouse.
Michèle: And who is this? (Looks down at a little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl tugging on Lucinda’s skirt).
Lucinda: This is my daughter, Sophia.
Michèle: Gasps. You took your child with you? I bet your husband isn’t pleased about that.
Lucinda: (Blinks moisture from her eyes.) Oh, no. Sadly I can’t have children of my own. Another reason I was out of favor. I found Sophia on the street in London on my way here. We’ve been together ever since. (She puts her arm around the child’s thin shoulders and gives her a hug.) Haven’t we pet?
Sophia: (Pops her finger in her mouth and nods.)
Michèle: I hear your landlord is back from the wars.
Lucinda: (Looking worried.) Yes. He’s a big bear of a man. Taller than me and very handsome in a rugged sort of way. Every time he looks at me I get this funny feeling in my stomach. But he’s a sad case. Very unsociable. I keep trying to get him involved in the community. Get him out of his shell, as it were, but he’s not cooperating at all. He keeps trying to get me alone with him. (Shakes her head.) He seems very taken with my figure. (blush) I really must go. Sophia needs her tea. And I promised the vicar I would help him organize the village fête. (She bobs a little curtsey takes the child by the hand and strides away through the forest, her skirts swaying to the movement of her hips.)
Michèle: Well there you have it, readers. She might have fled. But she seems to have found a new life here deep in the Kent countryside. I have the feeling, she shouldn’t get too complacent. That husband of hers is not a man to take her disappearance lightly.
If you want to know how it all works out, the book should be in a store near you very soon.