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Authors: Jillian Brookes-Ward
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exhaustion. She woke him gently and insisted he take to his bed and get some proper sleep. His reaction was a sharp rebuffal, followed by his ordering her to get out and leave him alone. As he wasn't going to listen to her, she kept her own counsel and, aching with anxiety, tried to carry on as if nothing were amiss. It took nearly three weeks more before he announced the job to be over.
'That's it, done and dusted,' he said. 'I said it would be tough, and it was, but overall I think it was pretty successful.'
He related how he had met the challenge head on, had negotiated a fair price and had banked himself a good commission - not as much as he'd hoped, but substantial nonetheless. His self satisfaction did not impress Megan. She had long since reached the end of her tether.
'That's so very nice,' she said. 'I am so pleased for you. I hope you and your accountant are deliriously happy together.'
Her sharp, sarcastic comment cut him to the quick. He had expected her to be pleased with his news not throw it back at him. 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'
'Nothing…and please don't swear at me.'
'It's my house and I'll swear if I want to. What did you mean by it?
'Nothing,' she repeated. 'Forget it.'
'I thought you'd be pleased. The job is over and there's money in the bank.'
'It's not just about the money is it?'
'It's what keeps a roof over my heid and you in a job.'
'And was it really worth ruining your health for the sake of padding out your bank balance?'
'I don't know what you mean.' He spread his arms wide in a 'look at me' gesture. 'I'm perfectly fine.'
'No, you're not. You haven't been fine for weeks.'
'There's nothing wrong with me, Meg. You're being paranoid. One little incident…' He made a pinching motion with his fingers.
'Then I suggest you take a long, hard look at yourself, because from where I'm standing, it's none too pretty.'
'You don't know what you're talking about.' His defensiveness told her he knew exactly what she saying; he just didn't want to hear it.
'Well, let's try these caps on for size shall we, and see how they fit?' She ticked off each point on her fingers. 'You look like death warmed over, you're not sleeping, you're not eating, you've worn the same clothes for three days in a row, you're always in a foul mood, and you…well to be brutally frank, you smell like a distillery. If you're trying to put yourself in an early grave you're certainly going the right way about it?'
'Don't push it, Meg. Just DON'T!'
She could tell by the set of his jaw and hardness of his eyes that he was already beginning to lose his temper, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. 'I will push, Nat, and I'll keep on pushing until you take some notice. If you won't listen to me then perhaps you'll listen to a doctor when you end up in the emergency room with a real heart attack.'
'I really, really don't need this from you…!'
'Yes, you do because I'm the only one who's going to tell you, not that you ever listen to anyone!'
He glared at her from under brows knitted into a deep scowl. 'That's more than enough from you, woman! And I strongly suggest you watch that tongue of yours!'
Megan's fury boiled over. 'Don't you use that tone with me, mister. I'll say what needs to be said...'
The last of his tolerance ebbed away. 'Not one more word...I'm warning you!' he growled through clenched teeth.
She crossed her arms defiantly. 'Or what? You'll fire me? Go ahead, it won't change the truth!'
'If that's what it'll take to shut you up, you only have yourself to blame.' He inclined his head sharply towards the door. 'You're sacked…get out.'
She stood her ground, her blazing eyes locked on his.
'NOW!' he roared.
She drew in a deep breath and said stiffly, 'As you wish, Mister Mackie.'
She marched across the kitchen, grabbed her coat and bag from the hook behind the door, slamming it behind her as she left. The echo of her leaving resounded around the silent kitchen and jolted Nat back to
'That's it, done and dusted,' he said. 'I said it would be tough, and it was, but overall I think it was pretty successful.'
He related how he had met the challenge head on, had negotiated a fair price and had banked himself a good commission - not as much as he'd hoped, but substantial nonetheless. His self satisfaction did not impress Megan. She had long since reached the end of her tether.
'That's so very nice,' she said. 'I am so pleased for you. I hope you and your accountant are deliriously happy together.'
Her sharp, sarcastic comment cut him to the quick. He had expected her to be pleased with his news not throw it back at him. 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'
'Nothing…and please don't swear at me.'
'It's my house and I'll swear if I want to. What did you mean by it?
'Nothing,' she repeated. 'Forget it.'
'I thought you'd be pleased. The job is over and there's money in the bank.'
'It's not just about the money is it?'
'It's what keeps a roof over my heid and you in a job.'
'And was it really worth ruining your health for the sake of padding out your bank balance?'
'I don't know what you mean.' He spread his arms wide in a 'look at me' gesture. 'I'm perfectly fine.'
'No, you're not. You haven't been fine for weeks.'
'There's nothing wrong with me, Meg. You're being paranoid. One little incident…' He made a pinching motion with his fingers.
'Then I suggest you take a long, hard look at yourself, because from where I'm standing, it's none too pretty.'
'You don't know what you're talking about.' His defensiveness told her he knew exactly what she saying; he just didn't want to hear it.
'Well, let's try these caps on for size shall we, and see how they fit?' She ticked off each point on her fingers. 'You look like death warmed over, you're not sleeping, you're not eating, you've worn the same clothes for three days in a row, you're always in a foul mood, and you…well to be brutally frank, you smell like a distillery. If you're trying to put yourself in an early grave you're certainly going the right way about it?'
'Don't push it, Meg. Just DON'T!'
She could tell by the set of his jaw and hardness of his eyes that he was already beginning to lose his temper, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. 'I will push, Nat, and I'll keep on pushing until you take some notice. If you won't listen to me then perhaps you'll listen to a doctor when you end up in the emergency room with a real heart attack.'
'I really, really don't need this from you…!'
'Yes, you do because I'm the only one who's going to tell you, not that you ever listen to anyone!'
He glared at her from under brows knitted into a deep scowl. 'That's more than enough from you, woman! And I strongly suggest you watch that tongue of yours!'
Megan's fury boiled over. 'Don't you use that tone with me, mister. I'll say what needs to be said...'
The last of his tolerance ebbed away. 'Not one more word...I'm warning you!' he growled through clenched teeth.
She crossed her arms defiantly. 'Or what? You'll fire me? Go ahead, it won't change the truth!'
'If that's what it'll take to shut you up, you only have yourself to blame.' He inclined his head sharply towards the door. 'You're sacked…get out.'
She stood her ground, her blazing eyes locked on his.
'NOW!' he roared.
She drew in a deep breath and said stiffly, 'As you wish, Mister Mackie.'
She marched across the kitchen, grabbed her coat and bag from the hook behind the door, slamming it behind her as she left. The echo of her leaving resounded around the silent kitchen and jolted Nat back to
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