One Night Only
wa s wel l an d trul y livin g th e two- point-fou r lifestyl e wit h he r healt h an d he r wealt h an d her sanit y . An d wher e ha d Rut h go t wit h he r life ? Divorced, workin g fro m home , isolate d an d lonel y an d wel l ou t o f her dept h i n thi s backwar d villag e wher e everyon e ha d moved o n an d don e ver y wel l fo r themselve s than k yo u ver y much .
    Sh e fel t a wav e o f emotio n engul f he r an d sh e bega n to feel really sorry for herself. More so than eve r . More than th e early-mornin g sweat s she’ d ge t whe n she’ d panic abou t livin g s o fa r awa y fro m th e ma n sh e ha d love d but wh o no w love d anothe r , an d wit h n o rea l famil y t o fall bac k o n apar t fro m he r Aun t Id a wh o sh e believe d hated he r gut s fo r comin g bac k int o he r lif e an d upsettin g her bridg e game s an d afternoo n jo b i n th e bing o hall . An d a brothe r calle d Bria n wh o shoul d hav e bee n name d Judas. Oh , an d he r mothe r wh o hadn ’ t spoke n t o he r fo r more year s tha n sh e coul d remembe r an d wh o ha d probably decide d t o forge t abou t he r ver y existence .
    Sh e ha d nothing .
    Y es , sh e ha d mone y an d tw o wonderfu l childre n an d a smal l bu t thrivin g busines s t o cal l he r ow n bu t insid e she fel t tha t sh e ha d n o ide a wh o sh e wa s an y more . Wh o on eart h wa s th e rea l Rut h Monaghan ?
    Sh e ha d absolutel y n o idea .
    Poll y , o n th e othe r hand , seeme d t o hav e everything a n d Rut h fel t s o inadequat e a s sh e stoo d i n he r perfect kitche n beneat h he r perfec t black-and-whit e famil y portraits wit h he r thre e son s an d drop-dead-gorgeou s husban d with hi s ligh t stubbl e an d take-me-to-be d eyes . Sh e coul d h ave crie d righ t then .
    Sh e coul d hav e crie d eve n mor e whe n ther e wa s a knoc k a t th e doo r an d i n walke d T ess .
    Supe r -talented , naturall y blonde , long-legged , beautiful T es s wh o ha d th e look s o f a n ange l bu t th e tongu e o f a vipe r .
    Poll y wa s a wal k i n th e park . T es s wa s a n obstacle cours e i n th e dark .
    No w Rut h reall y wante d t o cr y .
     
     
    T es s ha d spe d throug h th e hallwa y an d the n stopped dead , lik e someon e ha d pulle d a handbrak e o n he r , and sh e couldn ’ t hel p bu t glare . Sh e gulpe d an d the n she glare d more .
    A deathl y silenc e followe d an d T es s fel t he r smil e turn upsid e dow n lik e a cartoo n characte r . Sh e coul d fee l her ski n crawl , lik e sh e wa s bein g turne d insid e out . N o on e – n o on e ha d an y ide a ho w muc h thi s gir l – thi s useless lum p tha t wa s Rut h Monagha n – ha d mad e he r lif e such a miser y bac k i n th e da y whe n sh e shoul d hav e bee n more worrie d abou t gettin g caugh t wearin g lipstic k t o school tha n wha t shado w Rut h woul d lea p ou t o f t o cal l her names !
    “Em , Rut h wa s jus t passin g b y an d poppe d i n t o say hello, ” sai d Poll y , makin g face s a t T es s behin d Ruth ’ s bac k whic h begge d he r no t t o slic e th e woman ’ s hea d off wit h a breadknife . T es s hate d Rut h Monaghan . An d she ha d ever y righ t to .
    Rut h use d t o teas e an d taun t T es s s o badl y . Sh e would teas e bot h o f the m abou t thei r clothes , abou t thei r hai r , abou t th e wa y the y walked , th e wa y the y talked . Everythin g. T o T ess, Ruth Monaghan was a big fat bullying bitch and th e ver y soun d o f he r nam e mad e he r stomac h churn .
    “Hi , T ess, ” sai d Ruth .
    Hi ? Hi ? Wha t th e hel l di d sh e want ? A hug ? A high five ? Y o u don ’ t jus t mak e someone ’ s lif e a miser y fo r years an d the n sa y ‘Hi!’ T es s coul d tel l Rut h wa s shittin g hersel f whic h gav e her a satisfactor y glo w o f powe r eve n thoug h T es s to o was shakin g i n he r high-hee l boot s a t th e ver y sigh t o f he r . It wa s lik e steppin g bac k i n time . I t wa s lik e sh e was standin g ther e i n he r schoo

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