Jenny looked down at Rob’s sleeping face, his open mouth dribbling peaceably onto the pillow that supported his head. She was dressed, breakfasted and ready to go. She was ambivalent in the mornings. Her husband could not win, although he did not know it. She felt resentment if Rob didn’t get up to mark her departure to the office. She needed him to fuss over her a little, and pay attention to her comfort: a reward for her stalwart commitment to the daily grind of work? On the other hand she valued quiet and solitary mornings when he overslept, listening out for signs that he was stirring and willing him not to. She planted a light kiss on his forehead and tip-toed out of the bedroom.
I glanced up from the screen, resting my eyes and easing stiffened shoulder muscles. This job, editing copy for a company based in London is easy but tedious. It fits in though with the other things I like to do, the beach walks and gardening and most importantly going down to the nursing home. I am not keen on the job but I enjoy being in my office.
I love my home actually, I am very lucky. It has been in my family for four generations now and after the horrible time over the last few years it has taken me back, wrapped its solid stone bulk around me and held me safe.
Week 20 ! that’s a milestone isn’t it. There’s another one also, no prizes but can any of our regular readers guess what it is? Answers on a post card please (not really but there’s always the Your Thoughts page for those little titbits you want to share with us, we love to hear from you! But if you read on to the end I’ll reveal our other great milestone.
I remember sneaking into the old Saunders house with my older sister. The trees twisted into positions which during the night cast shadows, which still haunt me in my dreams. It was silly, but great fun. We were discoverers of occult. Patrons of good, as Father Hope called us. I miss him. Father Geary is stern and never lets anything go. He forced Jane to grow up too fast. Twenty years old and already mother of two and married to Hank. Hank ‘wooden-face’ Edison.
I still visit the Saunders house. I won’t get in trouble for going into the yard any more, but I still sneak, pretend that the shadows are moving in the moonlight. When Will and Joey are older we can play there. Hopefully I won’t be too old.
For Jonas Ericsson, a junior prosecutor with the Swedish Prosecution Authority, the story began in Stockholm on Valentines Day, 2012, and ended a week later in New Orleans, USA, on the twenty-first day of February.
At short notice Ericsson asked his secretary to cancel a number of upcoming appointments. He then booked two weeks leave.
Five days later he landed in the United States.
The day before Mardi Gras.
“We’re all going to Disneyland in the summer! That is six months from now! So I want you to mark each day off so we know how close it’s getting.”
The three children screamed with delight. They ran up to their bedrooms to look out some calendars and to chat and get excited as little children do.
She sat. Never said a word. Asking about how they were going to afford this was a bad idea.
He smiled at her.
“Well, you can tell everyone what I am doing for the kids. That’ll shut your mother up.”
She nodded, trying to hide the swallow that relieved the lump of dread in her throat.
The near future…
“Don’t talk about God or the worthwhile causes. I won’t believe what anyone says. They’re in it for themselves; they have to be. Survival is the only strategy. Take it from me. I know what I’m talking about, and bollocks to the rest.” Edwards paused. “Are you paying attention?”
Panoni wasn’t listening, and to prove the point scratched his balls.