story.
‘That’s the odd bit. I can’t figure it out. So far as I could find out, he started his career with a short stint at a local paper in Surrey, then moved on to half a dozen other jobs before landing the contract with Channel 69. He had an import business for a while, then dabbled in finance, without progressing far, married some society beauty called Amelia –’
‘He’s married?’ Sharon’s disappointment was predictable.
‘Well, he was. They split up rather publicly after he lost his job. It was only a couple of months ago, by the way. But how he got from London to Hailesbank remains a mystery. Connections, I suppose.’
‘Does he know about our sentence of death?’ It was Murdoch who, pushing his chair back, put the question.
They looked at each other in silence. If he didn’t know already, he soon would.
‘Jay Bond. Licensed to … to what do you think, Diz?’ Ben turned to her, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
Daisy shrugged and stuffed her hand in her pocket where Tiny Ted was nestled. She hated uncertainty.
An hour later and Ben was on his own, nursing the remnants of his third pint and thinking about having to face yet another home-cooked dinner with his parents. He was too old for this. He’d have to find himself a flat if he was going to stay here for any length of time.
Daisy Irvine. There was something completely artless about the woman. She was hardly the skinny girl he remembered, but he found himself deeply attracted to the curves that the shapeless garments she was wearing couldn’t really hide. Martina had been thin almost to the point of anorexia. Her refusal to eat anything except raw vegetables and fruit became one of the many issues that began to lie between them, great shadowy unspeakable obstacles whose presence gnawed away at what had once been a passionate relationship. She couldn’t talk about it – refused absolutely after one violent argument.
‘It’s my body! And I choose to eat this way. I feel good like this.’
‘It’s not healthy, Teeny. And it’s no fun. We never go out any more.’
‘We do go out. We walk. We went to the cinema last week.’
‘You know what I meant. We never eat out. We never see friends any more because you’re scared of being invited for supper. What kind of a life is this?’
She’d clammed up, defiant, angry, closing in on herself, shutting him out. He’d stuck it for a year or more, but at the end it became too dispiriting. What had once been a lively relationship turned into something under constant tension. He had to watch every word, measure every response for fear of sparking another outburst or a withdrawal that became, by the end, intolerable.
Ben scratched the short reddish stubble on his chin and rubbed his hand round the back of his neck restlessly. Thinking about Martina was still difficult. It hadn’t ended in a big row, more in a kind of mutual regret. But even mutual regret can be painful. No, maybe not that; maybe the ache came more from the loss of a way of life, a habit, the rituals built up and shared over the years. It was like stopping smoking. You knew it was bad for you, that you had to be firm with yourself, just walk away, but you missed getting the cigarette out of the packet, tapping it on its end, lighting up, missed the comfort of holding it between your fingers, using it to make a gesture, underline a point.
It hadn’t taken him long to gather his belongings together. He’d never hoarded material possessions. A few clothes, his iPod and laptop, the Delia Smith How to Cook books his mother had given him when he’d left to live on his own, that was about the size of it. He could get the whole lot into two suitcases and a few small bags. Apart from Nefertiti, of course.
Now that he thought about it, he knew what Daisy’s appealing curves reminded him of. He grinned to no one in particular. No wonder she seemed so delightfully familiar.
Chapter Nine
Morning arrived reluctantly, as it
‘That’s the odd bit. I can’t figure it out. So far as I could find out, he started his career with a short stint at a local paper in Surrey, then moved on to half a dozen other jobs before landing the contract with Channel 69. He had an import business for a while, then dabbled in finance, without progressing far, married some society beauty called Amelia –’
‘He’s married?’ Sharon’s disappointment was predictable.
‘Well, he was. They split up rather publicly after he lost his job. It was only a couple of months ago, by the way. But how he got from London to Hailesbank remains a mystery. Connections, I suppose.’
‘Does he know about our sentence of death?’ It was Murdoch who, pushing his chair back, put the question.
They looked at each other in silence. If he didn’t know already, he soon would.
‘Jay Bond. Licensed to … to what do you think, Diz?’ Ben turned to her, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
Daisy shrugged and stuffed her hand in her pocket where Tiny Ted was nestled. She hated uncertainty.
An hour later and Ben was on his own, nursing the remnants of his third pint and thinking about having to face yet another home-cooked dinner with his parents. He was too old for this. He’d have to find himself a flat if he was going to stay here for any length of time.
Daisy Irvine. There was something completely artless about the woman. She was hardly the skinny girl he remembered, but he found himself deeply attracted to the curves that the shapeless garments she was wearing couldn’t really hide. Martina had been thin almost to the point of anorexia. Her refusal to eat anything except raw vegetables and fruit became one of the many issues that began to lie between them, great shadowy unspeakable obstacles whose presence gnawed away at what had once been a passionate relationship. She couldn’t talk about it – refused absolutely after one violent argument.
‘It’s my body! And I choose to eat this way. I feel good like this.’
‘It’s not healthy, Teeny. And it’s no fun. We never go out any more.’
‘We do go out. We walk. We went to the cinema last week.’
‘You know what I meant. We never eat out. We never see friends any more because you’re scared of being invited for supper. What kind of a life is this?’
She’d clammed up, defiant, angry, closing in on herself, shutting him out. He’d stuck it for a year or more, but at the end it became too dispiriting. What had once been a lively relationship turned into something under constant tension. He had to watch every word, measure every response for fear of sparking another outburst or a withdrawal that became, by the end, intolerable.
Ben scratched the short reddish stubble on his chin and rubbed his hand round the back of his neck restlessly. Thinking about Martina was still difficult. It hadn’t ended in a big row, more in a kind of mutual regret. But even mutual regret can be painful. No, maybe not that; maybe the ache came more from the loss of a way of life, a habit, the rituals built up and shared over the years. It was like stopping smoking. You knew it was bad for you, that you had to be firm with yourself, just walk away, but you missed getting the cigarette out of the packet, tapping it on its end, lighting up, missed the comfort of holding it between your fingers, using it to make a gesture, underline a point.
It hadn’t taken him long to gather his belongings together. He’d never hoarded material possessions. A few clothes, his iPod and laptop, the Delia Smith How to Cook books his mother had given him when he’d left to live on his own, that was about the size of it. He could get the whole lot into two suitcases and a few small bags. Apart from Nefertiti, of course.
Now that he thought about it, he knew what Daisy’s appealing curves reminded him of. He grinned to no one in particular. No wonder she seemed so delightfully familiar.
Chapter Nine
Morning arrived reluctantly, as it
Similar Books
