Marriage is Murder

by Jean G. Goodhind

  Doherty tucked his bare arm behind his head. ‘All’s well that ends well, as old Bill Shakespeare once said.’

  ‘I am especially grateful to the travel company allowing us to bring our honeymoon booking forward – even though we aren’t on honeymoon. Not really. Honeymoons are supposed to follow weddings, strictly speaking.’

  ‘Strictly speaking it doesn’t matter a hoot to me whether we’re married or not.’

  Suddenly realising what he’d said, Doherty eyed her nervously. ‘I don’t mean that I don’t want us to get married. I just mean...’

  Honey laughed and patted his hand. ‘I know what you mean. We’re a pair well met as my old grandmother would say.’

  Relieved with her response, Doherty adjusted his sun bed so he was lying flat.

  Honey eyed his torso. He was already tanning nicely and he looked so relaxed. However, that comment...

  ‘Agh!’

  Ice cubes on his belly, ice cubes down his bathing trunks and a loud splash as Honey hit the ice blue water of the swimming pool.