Tag Relationships

The art of dying

freyathewriter 4 Comments

IMG_2551

“I’ve only had one affair. She should count herself lucky.”

Needless to say, I choked on my coffee. Who wouldn’t? It’s not the kind of thing you expect to hear in a village coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon. Is it?

I dabbed my lips with the edge of my napkin, sneaking a quick look at the two men sitting at the table next to mine. Large cappucinos – check. Pains au chocolat – check. Deceptively understated chunky knit sweaters – check. Levis, artfully worn at the seams  – check. Floppy dark hair, slices of silver gray enhancing rugged good looks – check.

The usual suspects.

The speaker’s confidant nodded in agreement. “Damn right she should.”

I couldn’t help myself. In two ticks I was by their side, towering over their conspiratorial forms. They looked up in unison, shadows of guilt passing over their faces. I’d seen it before, but in entirely different surroundings. Big city pubs and bars were more my usual haunts, but needs must.

“Only one affair?” I demanded, trying to hide my grin. The question always put them on the back foot.

“Err, yeah. Not that it’s any of your business,” The Cheater, caught unawares turned defensive.

“Oh don’t worry! I’m not judging – except that really, if you’re going to cheat once, you might as well do it again and again and again. Carry on where you left off, right?” I let the question hang in the air, watching confusion reign over both of them.

“Piss off, love, why don’t you. My marriage is none of your business.” The Cheater made as if to stand up and I backed off.

“OK, OK. I’m going…”

I backed off, and sat down at my table again, making like I was absorbed in a phone call. I’d have made a fantastic actress.

“Biggest mistake of my life, Andy, to be honest. Once is once too often, I reckon.”

The Confidant nodded in agreement once more. “Yeah mate, she’s a good one, your Sarah.”

My work was done.

SoCS Feb 20/16 – contractions

freyathewriter 3 Comments

“Don’t we always stop off for a coffee when we finish our shopping?”

“Don’t I always say not to exaggerate?”

And so the stand off begins. I’m fuming because Sarah is faffing around whilst I’m loaded down with the shopping – mostly hers, I might add – because yet again, she has ‘one of her backs’. Really? I used to be sympathetic, but ‘one of her backs’ or ‘one of her heads’ seem to me to come on when it’s most convenient for her, and as I see it, least convenient for me.

She tilts her head, smiles beguilingly. I know that look. “Oh come on, Trish! Look – there’s a free table now. Why don’t I grab it and you get the coffee, and some of that lovely Victoria sponge?”

It was kind of a question, that tiny lilt at the end of the suggestion. But I know Sarah better than that. If I don’t do as she wants, she’ll sulk. Oh, not in an obvious way, but her “Oh, OK, if you haven’t got enough money’, or whatever it is she’ll say, will be laced with childish resentment.

I’ve had it. Completely had it. “No, I’m going home. I’m tired, there are too many people in town. I just want to go home right now and put my feet up.”

I walk off, heading for the car park. Selfish perhaps, because she’ll have to get the bus if she really is in need of a caffeine and sugar hit. But I have the shopping to carry. I’ve been at work all week. I’m done.

Rapid steps ring on the pavement behind me as I trudge up the hill. Bags are taken from my hand. I feel lighter, literally and figuratively. Hallelujah! She’s seen more than her own needs, just for a change. It’s been a long time coming.

“Hey Sarah, lovely to see you. let me help you with those bags.”

My heart sinks. Andy. My friend. Me – as in Trish. Not Sarah. God, are we that interchangeable?

I hate being a twin sometimes.

—–

Here’s this week’s entry into Stream of Consciousness Saturday! Please head on over to Linda’s blog to read all the delicious creativity that can be found there. This week, it’s all about contractions – Linda has invited us to start our entry with a contraction, and see where it takes us. I never expected to write about twins. I’m not one, although I have do have brothers and sisters. We are all spread out in both age and geography. Sussex for me, Worcestershire for one sister, Berkshire for another and my brother is currently working on the high seas as a musician on a cruise ship.

Thank you once again to Linda for creating this vibrant community!

SoCS Feb. 13/16 – tire

freyathewriter 12 Comments

‘I wonder if one ever tires of living life like just this,’ he mused, stroking his beard meditatively. He glanced across at his wife, who, to all intents and purposes seemed to be basking in the sunlight pouring in from the tall, Georgian sash window just behind her. This library of his, everyone declared, was the finest in the county.

“What do you think, my dear, hmm?” he asked, as if she had heard his thoughts as clearly as if they had been uttered into the still, mahogany clad room.

“I think I’m bored to tears, Humphrey. Why on earth we have to stay here when everyone else is in St Tropez is absolutely beyond me. At least let me go, why can’t you?”

Humphrey frowned. The perils of marrying a woman twenty years his junior seemed to be thrust under his Roman nose more and more often these days. As one of the bright young things, she had been an absolute charm, but now her tone was shrill, her wants had turned into needs and he rather suspected she was beginning to tire of him and his middle-aged ways. But dammit all, he’d had enough excitement in the last shout, and if the papers were to be believed, that arrogant little man with the ridiculous moustache was spoiling for another fight sooner rather than later. No, he, Humphrey, just wanted a quiet life.

“Anything you want my dear, you shall have. Get Frensham to pack your bags and we’ll get you on old Davidson’s little plane lickety spit. Will that do you?”

She jumped up. all smiles and red lipstick. “Oh, Humphrey, you are the most darling creature, I don’t care what they say about you!”

She shimmied out of the room, calling for her maid, heels echoing on the marble as she skipped into the hall.

No. He would never tire of her, this house, this life.

Especially now that he had the place to himself for a few weeks. Just like the old times. Just the way he liked it.

——-

Here’s my first attempt at Stream of Consciousness Saturday! Please head on over to Linda’s blog to find out and to read all the delicious creativity that can be found there.

Thank you to Linda for creating this little community!