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“Miss Fetherstone, cancel all my meetings this afternoon.”

His secretary’s voice filtered through the speaker, clipped and precise. “Yes, Mister Harrington-Smythe, right away.”

“And hold all my calls. I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Of course, Mister Harrington-Smythe.”

She was an excellent secretary, he reflected. No questions, no talking back, no prying into his business.

He paid her well above the going rate, because a good secretary was so important to a man in his position.

He crossed the room and opened a hidden door, stepping through with a smile on his face. The door closed behind him as if on elastic, hiding him from everything.

This was where he felt happy. This was his secret. His escape from the humdrum world.

It was a labour of love, something that he had poured his heart and soul into, and although he could only spare a few hours once in a little while to indulge himself, it revitalised him.

He reached for his conductor’s hat, set the train on its tracks and smiled down at the miniature crowd gathered on the miniature station as the engine made its way towards them.

© Kari Fay

(Author’s Note: It’s Three Word Wednesday again, and I found these words pretty tricky: Cancel, Elastic and Labour. Yes, I changed it to the British spelling, just because.)

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