Even Stranger

by Marilyn Messik

  I didn’t want the day spoiled, which was why I didn’t mention anything to David, but, whilst he wasn’t in the least bit psychic, he was observant.

  “Out with it.” He said. We were heading to the hotel, where we were going to spend the first night of our honeymoon. I’d changed out of my wedding dress, enabling me to breathe again and, divested of tiara and veil, had movement restored to my head and neck.

  “What?” I said, trying and failing to run my hands through my hair, I’d taken out what seemed like hundreds of hair clips, but the hair spray was there to stay.

  “Whatever it is you’re mulling over.”

  “Not mulling over anything.”

  “You’re a lousy liar.” He said.

  “I’m not.”

  “You are, your mouth goes lop-sided when you fib. Anyway, thought we were sticking to a straight-forward policy from now on. Isn’t that what we agreed?” I nodded,

  “We did but…”

  “Go on then.” He said. I sighed,

  “Honestly, I’m not sure.” Then I paused, because that wasn’t true. I was sure. “This is going to sound really daft.” I said. He laughed,

  “It’ll fit in nicely with everything else then, won’t it?”

  “It hasn’t happened.” I said.

  “What hasn’t happened?”

  “This thing. What I’ve been feeling all day. It hasn’t happened yet.” Saying it out loud, immediately gave it substance, although no more sense. Whatever this was, it was different from normal – at least my kind of normal.

  “So, what is it then, some kind of premonition? That’s not something you do, is it?” David, glanced sideways at me, then back at the road.

  “No.” I said, “Of course not. How crazy do you think I am?” There was a brief pause, while we both considered that from all angles.

  “Well,” he said reasonably, “What makes you think something’s going to happen?”

  “It’s in my stomach,” I put a hand to where the twisting sensation was continuing to twist, “It’s apprehension.” I said, identifying it properly. “That’s what it is. And it’s Ruth.”

  “What’s Ruth?”

  “Something’s going to happen to Ruth.” I said. “I think.” He stopped the car in a layby, put on the hazard lights, I liked it that he was always so sensible, and turned to face me.

  “Think or know?” he asked. I shrugged,

  “Not sure.”

  “Well, if you know something,” he said, “Even if you just think you know something, you can’t ignore it, can you?”

  “Well, what can I do?”

  “Shouldn’t you at least, tell her? Maybe she can take steps to avoid whatever it is.”

  “Look, forget it.” I said, “Forget I said anything, this isn’t something that’s ever happened before, it can’t mean anything, it’s just my imagination and wedding nerves. Now I think about it, I’m really not sure it’s even what I feel at all.”

  “Your mouth’s going to one side.” He pointed out.

  “It is not.” I snapped, “I’m sorry you made me say anything. Just drop it. Look we’re heading off on honeymoon, we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?”

  “Your call.” He said equably and started the car, pulling onto the road again. At the same time, he leaned forward, switched on the cassette player and Karen Carpenter let us know that Rainy Days and Mondays Always Let You Down, she wasn’t wrong. We drove on a little way, it was late, past 11.00 and traffic was light. I felt sick, probably all the excitement of the day, or maybe the twisting in my stomach.

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” I said. “If it will stop you going on and on about it, just stop at the next phone box, I’ll call and tell them. But that’s all I’m doing. I’m not getting involved.”