The Waiting List (Strong Women Book 5)
Page 28
I drink the tea and creep back to bed, completing my silent night-time mission, just an hour before David’s alarm goes off. He kisses me and rubs my stomach, going through the motions of love but not quite getting there, and I pretend to stir in my sleep before turning over. I’m asleep before he’s out of the door.
I wake and David is gone. So is Vera. Sarah appears to have a visitor so I set about going through David’s pockets. I find nothing incriminating today, so I put the washer on and read for a while. Then I put on my beekeeping suit and head out to the hives. It’s a sunny day and I can hear the buzzing before I get there. I write down all the observations on my sheet, carefully checking the hive and making sure there is no disease. I smile faintly at them and their purpose. It’s the same with the birds. Tiny wren’s nest in a wooden box on the wall, and a couple of owl boxes contained chicks in the spring. The grouse that I can’t get to nest here as they love the moor too much. I watch as the parents fly out and return with food from the moor, yet I’ve no idea where they have been. I can’t help but notice the blank bottom half of the sheet, the late afternoon observation. The whole experiment is pointless without this observation, and my heart thumps hard at the thought of all the data I’ve collected so far being of no use without the moor observation. But I just can’t. I can’t go out there. I’m not strong enough. I walk back into the house and drop the data into a tray. The pile is high, and I know the clock is ticking.
Just before lunch I hear a car door slam. Then another. The excitement of two people arriving at once almost makes me forget about Sam. Yes, Sam. I do know her name, I just don’t like to use it. It sneers at me in my head when I think about it. I hear David’s key in the door and two people walking up the hallway. For a moment, I imagine that it’s him and her, both of them, coming to confront me and tell me the truth about their affair. I catch my breath in anticipation but it isn’t Sam. David is with a tall, skinny man, dark and sallow skinned, attractive in a way I can’t really put my finger on, but who makes me breathless.
‘Hi, Honey. This is Gabriel. He’ll be staying for a few weeks if that’s OK.’
I look from David to Gabriel and back again. Gabriel takes the cue to explain.
‘I’ve found myself in a little bit of a predicament. In that my partner has thrown me out. I’m afraid our relationship has broken down and I have nowhere immediately to stay. It’ll only be for a few days. Weeks maybe. Until I get paid.’
His face is pleading but somehow his eyes are smiling, and I nod.
‘No problem. I’ll make up a guest room. Do you work with David?’
David turns and goes into the kitchen and shuts the door. I know he is checking his phone and I stare at the door, willing myself to go in there and face him. Gabriel is answering, but I’m staring at the door.
‘No. I work for myself. I work from home, but I’ll keep out of your way. I hope that won’t be a problem?’
‘No, no. Look, will you excuse me for a second?’
Gabriel smiles and I push past him and shove the door open sharply. David is slowly stirring a mug of tea, one of three. It looks like such a cosy scene that I imagine Sarah’s head shaking and my insanometer going through the roof. He looks at me and I am sure that I see smugness.
‘Is there a problem, Patricia? Do you want some cake? I’m having a piece.’
‘No, thanks. I just wondered if you want some lunch.’
He carries the tray of drinks and kisses me on the forehead.
‘Got to get back to work. I only came back to drop Gabe off. He doesn’t have a car, you see. Might have to work a bit later to make up for it.’ My face crumples a little, and I hope he hasn’t seen it. This is the tipping point in mine and David’s life, the moment a normal life turns into something else. We’ve lived together so long in this situation that words are only a small part of our language, and I have had to learn to play my part and try to hide my expressions.
But he’s seen it. In a split second he bangs the tray on the kitchen counter and grips my wrist. The pain sears through me as I feel his fingers twist bone-deep, and then his other hand is on my face, pulling my jaw towards him. He’s still talking in a level, measured tone as I try to breathe through the agony. ‘Oh, Patti, don’t start again. Please. How many times do I have to say it? I love you. You’re the only woman for me. I don’t know what’s got into you.’
He lets go and I stumble backwards as the world returns to its former calmness. We walk through and David puts the drinks on the coffee table, the tea only slightly spilt, and takes Gabriel’s bag upstairs. Gabriel is standing by the window and he turns when he hears me behind him. In his hand is a cigarette paper and he’s holding a small tobacco pouch between his fingers. I can smell the bitterness and it resurrects a place in my past that I’d rather not have flash through my still-shaken mind.
‘Would you mind doing that outside, Gabriel? I’m an ex-smoker.’
Our eyes meet just as his tongue runs along the paper, leaving it moist and tacky. He presses it down firmly and it dangles between his lips. He clicks a cheap lighter and the flame springs in front of me, catching the paper alight, the smell rushing towards me. He inhales and blows out a cloud of smoke, which I quickly breathe in.
‘Sure. Not a problem.’
But I’m thinking now that it may be.
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Acknowledgements
I would like to thank everyone who has helped me with researching this book. Writing a book is difficult because it requires you to put in your heart and soul and then a little bit extra. My mission was and is to write the book I want to even if it is quirky and a little bit strange! Thank you to everyone who supports this and who has read my work and commented on it.
Thank you to my publishers who have worked hard to bring this book to life.
Thank you to the public officials who let me sit in their offices and ask them awkward questions.
Thank you to my fellow writers who offer scaffolding and support.
Most of all, thank you to my family. They have endured my furious typing and endless chatter about my stories and characters and I love you all.
Biography
Sarah Till writes books about the human condition and what can go wrong. She is interested in what makes people tick and nature. The combination of the two provide her with a rich landscape. She lives with her husband and her pets and walks the fields and moorlands looking for material.
Before her writing life she worked in an office. She likes painting, knitting and researching family history.
Sarah has written five novels to date and has had short stories accepted for publication in anthologies.
Contact: books@sarahtillbooks.com
Sarah Till Novels
The Little Death
The Waiting List
The Tintagel Secret
The Under Ground
The Third Act