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Extreme Weather
by Oonah V Joslin

It all began the day the new weather presenter, Loretta Temps arrived in the studio. Our regular woman was on pregnancy leave being big as a weather balloon and visibly tilting.

It was a sunny day in early June as I recall. As anchor, I did the handover and as I turned Loretta beamed a smile in my direction. I thought ‘things are hotting-up round here Guy.’

She was this Mauritian beauty with piled up hair full of ribbons, a sultry half moon smile full of white teeth, kind of good-girl bedroom eyes and breasts so pert they’d blind a man from across the room.

So next day I show up in look-smart mode. Normally I wouldn’t dream of wearing a yellow shirt and tie but everyone needs a makeover now and then and -- okay so I fancied Loretta -- I mean who wouldn’t?

“You look very sunshiny today,” she said and donated one of her on camera sideways smiles as she swished past in a dress of exactly the same gorse-flower hue.

“So do you,” I said lamely. I’d meant to say she looked ‘particularly beautiful today’, which she did with her dark bosom defining that honeyed gold and the soapy scent of her – all coconut and peaches. A few days later we had lunch. The warm spell it seemed was set to continue.

We decided as a team we should co-ordinate our efforts so when I sported a shirt of azure blue and white tie, she wore a tight little a-line dress of white with a pattern of blue roses and it clung to her hourglass contours like isobars to a windy day. We went out for dinner. This was turning into a heat wave.

Loretta and I became a team; on and off screen co-ordination on all levels – the summer was getting pretty steamy. Our wardrobe ranged through yellow, blue, green then we covered orange to reds and when we reached our purple stage – wow! The season obligingly matched us stroke for stroke for sun stroke. It got Mediterranean hot. Caribbean hot. Gossip page hot. Viewing figures soared by degrees too. The network doubled our wages. We even appeared at the window of my London flat one morning in our ‘night attire,’ just to please the paparazzi. Why not? We both had great bodies and we could always claim for harassment later.

It was an October wedding in a Scottish castle with a seasonal theme of bronze and gold. We invited all the best people and the press of course. I could not wait to make Loretta Temps, Loretta Permanent. It was one glorious autumn.

With winter on its way and -- let’s just say things cooled between Loretta and me; especially when she began to get as big as a balloon and started to tilt. That was never part of my forecast. I didn’t envisage being a stuck-in-trough anchor-man. I’ve always been temperate – changeable even. Time to move on. Anyway my work as a reporter takes me all over the world these days -- any way the wind blows.