EPISODE FIVE
695 Words
FIVE
With the evening now spoilt, the air of foreboding clouded all attempts at light-heartedness.
When we walked home, I became aware of Joanne's fingers digging into my arm, especially past the dark alleyways. She hesitated before pushing open the door to her unlit flat.
She made coffee while I stoked up the fire and sorted through the records, selecting a Bing Crosby, seventy-eight. We sat on the floor before the fire backs to the settee. I put my arm around her when she nestled up.
"Better now?"
She nodded.
When the music ended, I made to move, never staying overnight during the week. It was a sort of rule of her, even if we made love.
"Will you stay tonight?"
"Of course."
I buried my face into the sweet-smelling hair and kissed behind her ears.
Later, as we lie prostrate in bed, Joanne fast asleep, I listened to the rain beating on the window, and thought of those poor bastards up at the golf course.
*
It watched the two policemen as a match flared and lit their faces, casting their images momentarily in its glass eyepieces. The breathing heavy, laboured, causing an intermittent vacuum in the tube that sucked and pulled at the mask. The pain came again.
*
I woke up and blinked my eyes open. My arm ached from still being under Joanne's head, but she had turned her back on me. For a moment, I thought it was Sunday. Then I remembered what I happened to be doing here. I verified the time on my watch, and shot up, rolling Joanne roughly to one side. I slung a leg over her as she gave a squeal.
"Get up," I shouted, "it's ten to nine."
It galvanized her to respond without thinking. We met in the bathroom doorway, slamming the door inwards. Both awake now we looked at each other and laughed.
I stood back and bowed.
"After you, madam."
Joanne slipped through.
"Come on -- we'll share."
I hung back for a moment, grasping the implication of this new intimacy, and then followed gratefully after her.
Over a hurried breakfast, a piece of toast and a cup of coffee with chicory taken standing up, I tested her.
"Sharing beds and no bathrooms. It's really being married, isn't it?"
Joanne flushed and put her cup down.
"Right, I'm away."
Disappointed that she did not respond to my hint, I put my half-finished drink down and followed her into the hall.
A single letter lay on the door mat. Joanne stooped to pick it up. She caught sight of the writing on the envelope and stiffened.
I picked up her coat.
"Shall I see you tonight?"
Joanne did not reply.
Aware that she over-stared at the correspondence, I felt a twinge of last night's uneasiness.
"Anything the matter?"
She jumped, as though she had forgotten, I was there.
"What?"
I nodded.
"The mail. Do you know it contains bad news or something?"
"Oh." She gave me a smile that failed miserably to convince me and stuffed the envelope into her pocket. "No, it's nothing."
I helped her on with her coat, and then repeated my question.
"Shall I see you tonight."
"No."
My face must have shown hurt at the abrupt, abrupt refusal. She relented and added, "I want to wash my hair, write some letters. You know, generally catch up on the week."
"I see. What about Friday for the quiz night?"
She frowned, knowing I would be upset.
"Of course. Don't be silly."
She reached up and gave me a brisk kiss.
"And thanks for staying last night."
I grinned at last.
"The pleasure was all mine."
She laughed, more like her old self as she opened the door.
"Oh no it wasn't."
Then she went.
I closed the door and started my weight of two minutes all I could allow for decency.
But somehow the foreboding lingered. It irritated me. As though I caught something, last night and now going to be subject to for ever -- like hay fever.
I did not last out the two minutes.
The brisk walk to the village hall helped my well-being.
- Writer
