Alex (a psychological mysterythriller, with crime, literary drama, romance and suspense) by Sidney Knight

Author:Sidney Knight [Knight, Sidney]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Sidney Knight
Published: 2012-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

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Thursday, 8 April 2010

As Ed Dorne ended yet another call, he realised again just how hideously monotone his voice had become.

But he didn’t care. Not anymore. Not after last night.

Last night it had all happened, finished, ended—just like that. But it had been inevitable, hadn’t it? And even though he’d tried to feel sorry for himself and pretend it was out of the blue, saying to her ‘What are you talking about?’ and ‘Where has…how long have you been feeling like this?’, he’d known all too well that it was him who’d ripped the relationship clean in half, slowly over many years. He’d tried to blame it on the child thing—but it wasn’t because of that. It was him. He had killed the relationship, the marriage, shooting it within an inch of its life a long time ago. It had merely been breathing, occasionally convulsing in an unconscious state for all that time. But it was his own death, his meaningless existence, his bland life which had disabled him from pulling it out of its coma. Now, Edward Dorne—of 47 Finch Lane, Hilbrook, son of Lorraine and William Dorne, husband of Kerry Dorne, father of no children, cynic, realist, machine, straight shooter, slave to the clock upon Safe Insurance’s wall—was getting divorced.

His eyes grew even more tired as he entered into a conversation with another one of them.

‘Okay, Miss Hilston,’ he spoke into the headset microphone, ‘I’m now going to ask you, in your own words, to give me a description of the incident where the crash took place. As I’ve already told you, we may record this for our own records of the claim. Is this all right with you?’

‘Yes, no problem,’ said the young woman, Eve Sultan, on the other end of the line.

‘Okay, so in your own words, please.’

‘Well, I was approaching the roundabout—on Cintron Road—and as I was slowing down, approaching slowly—like you would—as I approached the roundabout…’

Ed was thinking: Come on for god’s sake just tell me someone hit you already! You wanna tell me how you changed down the fucking gears as well?

‘…and then I suddenly felt a bang behind me, and at first I thought that I might’ve stalled and I panicked…’

I don’t care about how you felt. My wife is leaving me and I’m going to be a lonely forty year old man with no friends except for a brother who only still sees me so he can beat me badly at squash...

‘…I was scared and I didn’t know what to do! I’ve never had a crash before. Well, it wasn’t actually me, was it? Anyway, so I felt this big thud—well, it was a bang—and then I suddenly knew it must’ve been…’

A crash, my dear? Or maybe a firework in your head had gone off? An epiphany suddenly happened, perhaps? Maybe it was the point where you realised you’re a total airhead? I bet you’re blonde, get pissed a lot in town, have never voted, and think that the world is all innocent and fun with bubbles and teddy bears.

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