Читать книгу Nikki Gemmell’s Threesome: The Bride Stripped Bare, With the Body, I Take You - Nikki Gemmell - Страница 73

never remain in wet clothes or boots

There’s a light from under your front door. Your face is rearranged. Cole’s cooked dinner, it’s a mess, the water that was steaming the vegetables has boiled dry and the apartment’s filled with the sour smell of a saucepan caked black. But he’s tried.

A tight smile.

You haven’t been writing me any letters, have you, the jittery blurt.

Letters, no. Why would I do that? What letters?

Oh nothing, nothing. I got a couple of letters. They were a bit strange. It might be this kid down the street.

What’s going on? Is someone harassing you? Should we call the police?

God no, forget it. It’s silly, harmless. What’s to eat?

There’s a Pandora’s box of questions flying open in Cole’s head, it is all in his face. You excuse yourself, can’t force food down, feel sick. You’ve blundered from Gabriel, he’s slipped from your life.

Fool, fool.

Is there something you want to tell me? Cole’s voice is at the locked bathroom door.

No, no, forget it.

Let me see the letters. Who is this kid? There’s concern in his voice, he will not let up.

I lent him some money for the bus and he’s been on at me ever since. It’s nothing, really, I can handle it. You manage a laugh. It’s OK. All right? Your fingers twist your hair until it hurts.

OK, OK. A pause. Want a cuppa?

You wilt, you slam your eyes shut, you smile with your lips pressed tight.

Yes. Yes, thanks; your voice all choked. And then in the gap under the bathroom door a slim bar of Lindt chocolate appears. You can hardly voice your thank you. For at moments like these the charge in your marriage is suddenly, beautifully, back.

You succumb.