He struck a cigarette and looked at her through the smoke. She was standing over at the window when she heard him strike the match. She had been marvelling at the fact that she had never seen a star in all the time she had been in London. Even from way up high, in this hotel room in Canary Wharf where she felt like a star, she could not see the stars.
She wanted a cigarette too and she wandered over to him, looking at him longingly. He gave her the look that said no and she pouted. His look continued to say no. He was funny. She had met her when she worked as a London escort two years ago in East London, she had hardly been a choir girl. He had been married for 8 years when they met. She was hardly a choir girl and he was hardly what you would call a saint, yet, since he had fallen in love with her he treated her like a princess. He bought her pretty dresses, she now lived in luxury, but his princess was not allowed to so much as have a smoke.
So, she wandered back to the window and looked at the London sky again. Still no stars.
After two years of promises he was leaving his wife. Somewhere, in another room in another place in London his wife was having an affair. His wife did not know her husband had found out and this had finally given him the ammunition he needed to leave an unhappy marriage and to marry the London escort he had fallen in live with.
He lay on the bed smoking and she knew he was still watching her. She looked into the London night sky and wondered what the next few months and next years would hold.
The other women who knew her when she started working as an escort felt she was the luckiest woman in the world to have found true love and to be able to have a future with the man she loved and who loved her.
Finally, she turned her back on the London night and went back to bed. She asked him if he ever noticed that it was not possible to see the stars at night in London. He looked her deep in the eyes and said she was mistaken.