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Excerpt
Claire out with her husband for dinner
She took a deep breath in and sat back as the waiter arrived with the main courses. She wanted to mention the anxiety she was experiencing and tell him about the Nissan car that she suspected was following her.
“It’s
nice to be out together,” she smiled, “it seems ages since we’ve done anything
like this.”
“It is, but it’s been a
busy time lately.”
“I know. That’s what I
wanted to talk to you about, well that and me really.”
He had the grace to
pause from his food, “Are you alright, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing serious,” she
reassured, concerned it hadn’t come out quite how she’d intended, “I’ve just
been feeling down a bit lately and worrying all the time. It’s hard to
explain,” she struggled as she didn’t want to sound totally stupid, “it’s as if
something awful is going to happen.”
He scowled, “Like
what?”
“I don’t know,” she
hesitated, trying to find the right words, “it’s like a sick feeling, as if I’m
going to get some bad news.”
He resumed eating,
“It’s not all this worrying about me and the hours I’m working is it? Because
if it is, you need to stop it. I promise you it will come to an end in a couple
of months and we’ll be back to normal.”
“You
keep saying that, but that’s not helping right now particularly as I’m feeling
a bit wobbly. Freddy and I are on our own and just lately, it’s really making
sort of, I don’t know . . . questioning why we are putting ourselves through
all of this.”
“Look,
I know it’s hard right now, that’s why I suggested a holiday, a sort of light
at the end of the tunnel to look forward to when all this extra workload’s
over. And don’t forget I’ve got your party planned, so I am trying to do the
best I can for you.”
“I
know you are, it’s just that I miss you. I miss us. It’s a really difficult
time for me right now what with Dad, the house move, then Mum and all this
extra work you’re doing.”
“Yeah,”
he took a mouthful of wine, “well that might get even more difficult after your
birthday.”
“Why’s
that?”
“You
know I told you about expanding the business?”
“Yes. It sounded like
you had to cross the T’s and dot the I’s.”
“Yep, it was. But it’s
a bit more than that now. I’m actually working on a merger with another
established company, which may require me spending more time in London.”
“Tell
me you’re joking,” she said in a warning tone.
“No,
I’m not. It’s real. I’m hoping to merge with another leisure company.”
“Whatever
for? Surely you have enough on with ours. Why do you need to even expand
anyway?”
“I’ve
told you,” a hint of irritability was evident in his voice, “you have to in
business, you can’t stand still.”
“I
can’t believe I’m even hearing this, Max. You promised me that doing all the
house up was so you could be at home more and work from here. What’s the point
of it all if you’re now saying you’re going to be in London? We might as well
up sticks and go back there to live.”
“Don’t
be so dramatic,” he snapped, “we’ve made our forever home here; it’s just going
to be another couple of years before I can do what I originally planned.
They’ll fly by.”
She
put her knife and fork down with force. Her appetite had completely
disappeared. She couldn’t eat another bite.
“Look,
I know you’re upset,” he said, “but it’ll work out, you’ll see. Just give me a
few months until I’ve signed on the dotted line, and then we’re sorted.”
Her hopes for sorting
things out were in tatters. As always he bulldozed himself along, knocking
anyone down that got in his way. Even her protests counted for nothing. He
always did exactly as he wanted. Did he even care about her anxiety?
Max took a sip of his
wine, “Anyway, going back to our holiday,” he looked mighty pleased with
himself, “I’ve booked it, we fly on the 19th December.”
“You’ve
booked it? Did you speak to Mum?”
“No.
But you said you wanted her to come so I’ve included her.”
“Even
though she hasn’t confirmed she can come?” She glared at him, “You should have
checked with her.”
“Christ,
Claire, I’m sure she’s not going to turn down a free all expenses paid holiday
on the strength it might clash with her bridge league.”
“Do
you know, you can be horrible at times? It’s a courtesy thing. You bulldoze
along expecting everyone to do exactly what you want. You never stop and
consider other people’s feelings.”
He
sighed, “I do, and that’s why I’ve booked the holiday. You keep saying we never
have any time together, well we will by having a holiday, all of us. I don’t know
what you’re moaning about actually, you should be pleased.”
“That’s
half the trouble, you have no idea. It’s not about holidays. It’s about you
being here, not only for your son, but for me as well.”
The
whole evening had been pointless. She hoped he’d reassure her that he’d cut
down on his hours, not tell her he was going to be doing more. She’d wanted
assurance, but he’d only added to her feeling of doom. And she’d not even got
round to mentioning the Nissan car.
“Do
you want dessert?” he asked in an overly bright voice as if it was a normal
evening and he’d not dropped the bombshell into their conversation.
She looked down at her
plate of half eaten food, “No. You have one if you want.”
He
glanced at the bottle of wine. “I might just have some cheese and biscuits to
go with the wine that’s left.”
Typical.
Her insides were in turmoil and he was thinking of his belly. He had no idea of
the angst he’d caused by saying he was going to be working more.
Or did he?
Maybe
he wasn’t that bothered?
She
gulped down the last of her wine and placed the empty glass on the table. She
stared at the crystal glass, coated with the remnants of red wine. It reminded
her of blood.
The
dark foreboding feeling reared its ugly head again.
Something
dreadful was about to happen – she was sure of it.
She
had to get away. “Excuse me while I use the ladies’.”
Author Bio
Joy Wood
has worked as a nurse most of her adult life and turned to writing six years
ago to ‘see if she could.’ Her earlier work was adult romance and intrigue, but
more recently she has switched genres to romance with a crime element. Joy
lives in the small but charming seaside town of Cleethorpes in North East
Lincolnshire and her writing ideas come from watching the tide turn daily, of
course with the obligatory ice-cream – someone has to support the local
economy!
Facebook www.facebook.com/joywoodauthor
Website www.joywoodauthor.wordpress.com
Twitter @joywoodauthor
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