Back After the Break by Anita Notaro

Author:Anita Notaro [Anita Notaro]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2003-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

IT WAS PITCH-BLACK outside. Lindsay blinked, convinced it was Chris and that her mind was playing tricks. Then he spoke and she knew.

‘Can I come in?’ A voice like velvet that she thought she’d never hear again.

The old half of her wanted to grab him and drag him inside, in case he got away. Again. The other half wanted to kick him back down the path, roll him out onto the street, directly into the path of an oncoming bus.

She stood back, silently, hating herself for her unspoken enthusiasm.

‘How are you?’ asked eyes that could melt ice at twenty paces.

‘Great,’ a pair of too bright, confused ones answered.

‘I wanted to talk to you. But first can I use your loo?’

Hardly the most romantic of introductions but she stood back anyway, helpless as usual, it seemed. He bounded up the stairs, well used to this space. She followed, unsure why, and went into the bedroom.

Flicking on the light, she checked herself in the mirror, foolishly glad she’d changed out of her comfies. Her face looked washed out. She felt sick. He, on the other hand, looked his usual polished self, although he’d put on a bit of weight and his face was fuller, even a touch jowly.

Suddenly he was beside her.

‘God, we had some good times in this room, in this house. I’ve missed them.’ He stood directly in front of her and touched her arm. He was close, very close and she could smell alcohol although he didn’t look drunk.

She reached over and pulled down the blind, not wanting to be seen.

She was too late.

If she hadn’t been so preoccupied she might have noticed Chris standing beside his car, on the other side of the road, staring directly at the two of them.

‘Come down to the kitchen.’ She felt uncomfortable and she didn’t fully understand it. God knows she’d imagined him back in this room many times over the last few months, holding her, kissing her, telling her it was all a mistake. How many times had she woken and pictured him standing exactly where he now stood, watching her, undressing her with his eyes?

She flicked off the light and he followed her downstairs.

Charlie looked at him but didn’t move and he made no attempt to greet the animal.

‘Why did you come?’ She needed to know. Quickly.

‘I’d love a drink. Any chance?’

Automatically, she poured him a Scotch, glad to be busy for a moment, delighted to have an excuse to turn her back on him, afraid of the power he still had over her. She handed him the tumbler and finished her own glass of wine in a swallow, topping it up with more than she wanted and less than she needed.

He sat down on the couch and he wasn’t as powerful as she’d imagined, in fact he’d definitely let himself go a bit, she thought. Or was she just seeing him as he really was? She deliberately didn’t sit beside him, curling herself instead in a protective ball on one of the big squashy armchairs.

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