Читать книгу Envy - Amanda Robson, Amanda Robson - Страница 12

Sitting at the dining table in our living room, the girls settled in bed.

‘How was your day?’ I ask my husband Phillip, as I watch him spooning pasta into his mouth.

‘Fine,’ he replies, without looking up.

‘Oh come on, I’m at home with the kids. Give me a break, let me hear something about your work environment,’ I say.

He looks up and frowns. ‘Are you trying to tell me you’re bored at home?’

‘Did I say that?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Not at all.’ I pause. ‘I just asked about your day.’

He leans back in his chair. He shrugs his shoulders. ‘I drove to work. Parked the car. Walked across the car park.’ He pauses and smiles. ‘And then, the really exciting bit, I fastened the top button on my coat.’

‘Did you get a good parking space?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

‘Did the buggy wheels rotate smoothly today?’ he replies.

I take a deep breath. Did I ever find quips like this interesting?

‘Is this really how you want to communicate with me this evening?’ I ask. ‘When I’ve had a problem arise that I would like to talk about?’ His eyes soften in concern. ‘For the first time, a client said I was too old for the job,’ I continue.

Repeated, the barbs of these words penetrate my mind more deeply. He leans across the table and takes my hands in his. ‘You’re still beautiful, Faye.’ There is a pause. ‘But that day was bound to arrive.’

‘So you agree?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Oh yes you did.’