Another random selection from the current version (could it be the final version?) Leo is grown up and married to his second wife Melissa. He has just read Lucy's recently published novel...
Melissa
had interrogated him about his “past” when they first met – he’d told her very
little about Lucy, he hadn’t realised there was much to tell. He smiled as he remembered how tenderly and
earnestly Mel had extracted the information about his past from him. She told him she was “exorcising his demons”
and he wanted to believe her, to unburden himself to her. He felt he’d met someone who really
understood him at last. She had pointed
out patterns in his behaviour and tried to help him amend them. As the years passed though he couldn’t help
noticing how hostile Mel became whenever they met someone from his past. Not content with having rescued him from what
had seemed to be a downward spiral, she seemed to want him to obliterate the
past, and disliked any evidence of it.
This could make things very difficult with Alexa his ex-wife, who also
lived in Cambridge – and their two children.
Melissa could be a little sticky about the time he spent with them.
It
was important that no one told Melissa about Lucy’s book. He was pretty sure she didn’t know Lucy’s
surname, and she wasn’t a great reader, so unless the book became a monstrous
best seller ... Only one way to resolve this problem: go out and buy the book.
He looked at his watch: he had plenty of time to go down to Heffers and see if
they had a copy. And then saunter down
to a nice pub by the river and a bit of a read.
He glanced around the house – if he quickly tidied up the newspapers and
threw out the old flowers, plumped up the cushions, he could probably get away
without doing any hoovering.
Having
the book safely in his bag, Leo entered his favourite pub. It was quiet in the mid afternoon, and he
could sit outside in the sun. He opened
the book with a certain amount of anxiety; he had no idea what to expect. As he read the dread gradually dissipated,
there was some pain in reading it, but also satisfaction. It
would have been an easier read if it hadn’t been about him. He couldn’t help being flattered that she had
obviously observed him closely – taken so much notice of him. Of course she didn’t really understand him,
couldn’t guess what his motives were.
But some of the observations.... had she been stalking him? How did she know that? The legendary female intuition he supposed. She was a lovely woman really, so many good
things about her. But why hadn’t she got
in touch with him about the book?
It
brought back all that teenage insecurity.
It was a shame one felt so intensely when one was least able to enjoy
the feelings, because one was so full of anxiety about getting things right. What had happened between them had just been
a collision that had happened when they wanted different things. Not so different from an adult love affair –
except of course at 16 one is less well-equipped to deal with it. Perhaps it would have been different if they
had met when they were adults...
The
sun had moved around and he was sitting in shade now – he looked at his watch:
it was after five. Oh Lord, Melissa will be home in a minute. He got up quickly,
fumbled for some mints in his pocket, and left the pub, with a half glass of
rose on the table. The bike ride was
knackering – and he arrived home with a few minutes to spare. He was carefully stowing the bike in the
shed when her car pulled up. God knows
why he called it her car – but she seemed to use it more than he did.
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