FULL BODIED: A Francine Witt Mystery by Steve Exeter

Author:Steve Exeter [Exeter, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

Why Me?

‘Why me?’ is a question I ask myself far too often. I finally convinced Dick that it was time for him to leave. He did protest a little. I think there’s a small part of him (okay, a big part of him) that wanted round two. I can’t let myself go down that rabbit hole. At this point in my life, I need somebody stable, who has their life sorted. Not somebody who works in an off-licence and steals wine. Anyway, when he left, I picked up the diary. A neat A5 leather-bound book with gold-tipped edges. About half the pages within it were fanned open, filled with tiny precise handwriting. The rest of the pages were blank.

I opened it to a random page and began to read.

I’ve been alone here for too long. I must return home soon, I know that. But how am I to face my husband, my daughter, empty-handed? I promised them Nefertiti, and I have nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. The baby within my stomach isn’t yet showing. If I am to pass it off as Donald’s, I need to be with him imminently, or he’ll suspect something. Another part of me thinks I should just come clean. Donald, more than anybody else, would understand why I allied myself with Harold. I’m not saying that I didn’t have fun with him, my lord was it fun, but it was also a means to an end. I needed muscle. I needed somebody to do as I said without asking questions. I needed a person who would keep our secret archaeological efforts to themselves. Some men are more inclined to think with their nether regions than others, and this made Harold the perfect candidate.

But I never expected him to leave when I told him the news. I thought that he’d beg me to be with him. To leave Donald so that we can start a new life together, just as he had before. I planned to let him down easily. I thought he’d been infatuated with me, he’d always behaved as such, which is why it had been so easy to manipulate him into continuing our search for Nefertiti together, but now I see that I was wrong. He’d played me too. But why? What did he get out of it other than a few months of secret trysts? I’m not vain enough to think that it was just about me, and my body. I know that, as a woman, I have significant power over men. I feel a discord in using my femininity, and my body, to get what I wanted from Harold. I have paid the price. This will forever be etched in my mind, a point of contention between my husband and I (whether I choose to tell him or not). I will love the baby regardless, and pray that my husband loves it too, just as much as he loves Hermione. Donald is the best father a child could ask for – I am so lucky to have met him.

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