The Spa Day (11 page)

They always kept their keys in the glass bowl on the
small hall table and because it was empty she knew he wasn’t home from the
restaurant. She decided to go straight to bed and try to fall asleep before he
got back. This way, she decided, they wouldn’t continue the argument where
they’d left off earlier. Then, remembering his words about keeping the dress
on, she slipped it over her head and chucked it rebelliously into the laundry
basket before climbing under the soft white duvet.

Closing her eyes, she tried to empty her mind, hoping
sleep would take over but thoughts about Tim and their relationship tumbled
around mercilessly. How could things have gone so badly wrong in a couple of
months? And, although he was making it damned hard for her with his dreadful
behaviour, compared to when they’d first moved in together, she still loved him
to bits. Or did she? And, was it just the memory of the former Tim that she was
still in love with?

Knowing it wasn’t just her that he was being horrible
to helped a little as his family were also complaining about his attitude. She
remembered last week when his sister, Jenny, had called him an arrogant,
selfish prat, and his father, who was a man of few words, had sadly shook his
head in disappointment at him. But when they’d got home and she’d wanted to
talk about it, because secretly she agreed with Jenny, he’d simply shrugged his
shoulders and denied any wrong doing. At the moment it seemed to be everyone
else’s fault in Tim’s eyes.

Turning onto her side, and in an attempt to pin-point
exactly when it had started she thought over the last few months week by week
and decided the changes had begun more or less from the first week in his new
job as head chef at the restaurant, and although she knew how hard he’d worked
for the promotion and certainly deserved it, she hated the way the pressure of
work seemed to be changing his personality. And he’d had such a lovely
personality when they’d first met she thought dreamily, sinking her cheek
further into the duck-down, soft pillow.

She let her mind wander through the first week they’d
got together, remembering how lovely, kind, and down to earth he’d been. They’d
met through Frances at work and it had been, if not love, then lust at first
sight, and by the end of their first date when he’d stared at her with those
penetrating green eyes and devoured her mouth with the most passionate snog
she’d ever had, she’d known he was going to be very special. She’d never kissed
anyone like that before and remembered how her lips had felt on fire, and how
she’d wanted to go on kissing him forever. In fact, she’d been so engrossed in
the kiss that without realising it she’d started to slide from the edge of the
leather settee and he’d caught her just in time to stop her falling.
Afterwards, she couldn’t remember how or when she’d wrapped her legs around his
body, because her mind had stopped thinking altogether and she’d been so
completely caught up in the exquisite pleasure of feeling that she was part of
him and he was part of her.

But now, although the sex was still fantastic, it was
the loving tenderness that seemed to be missing. Was this what happened to
couples when they’d lived together for a while? Maybe it was a classic case of
the honeymoon period being well and truly over. Deciding this was definitely a
question for Sarah and Lisa on Saturday, she heard his key in the door.

“Hey, gorgeous, thought you’d be wearing your little
black dress for me,” he whispered into her ear while she felt him cradle her
back with his body. His feet were cold when he selfishly wrapped them around
hers, and she could smell red wine on his breath, so she lay very still,
breathing deeply and hoped he would think she was asleep. It worked and she
felt him pull her further into his body and start to lightly snore. Christ, if
anyone would have told her six months ago that she’d be doing this she’d have
laughed in their faces. But she wasn’t laughing now; she moaned softly and felt
a tear leak out of the side of her eye.