The Painted Lady by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Format: epub
Published: 2010-02-13T07:23:14+00:00

Chapter Eight

LONDON 2008

Alistair McNaught held out his glass to Astrid for a refill.

“You seem very disturbed about something,” she said, pouring him another glass, fighting to appear calm. “Would you like to talk about it?”

His mouth pulled down at the corners. “I doubt you’d be interested.”

“Try me.”

He ran his fingers through his ginger hair. “I’m going crazy,” he said.

Astrid sat quietly. She wasn’t about to argue with him on that point.

“My wife’s left me,” he said. “She’s taken the kids to her mother’s. Sounds like a plot from a TV sitcom doesn’t it?”

“Perhaps you should give her a little time …”

“I’ve given her more time than she deserves.” He crashed his glass down on the table. “She won’t let me see my own kids. She’s demanding more alimony than I can afford. How am I supposed to work?”

“There are people who can help you with this,” Astrid said. “A marriage counselor or psychologist. If you don’t get help, you won’t be able to help your children, let alone yourself.”

She put her full glass down on the table. “I am tired. I think you should go now. If you want to talk, we can do it at the studio on Wednesday. I’m sorry.” As she said it, her voice cracked and she brought her hands up to her face. “I’ve just had an argument with my partner. I’m not much good at relationships either it seems. I doubt I can be much help to you.”

He studied her as she stood there with her heart pounding in her ears.

“I thought your life would be great,” he said finally. His remark made her wonder if it was jealousy that had brought him here.

“No one’s life is good all the time. We have to make the best of things, oui?” She walked to the door.

She held her breath as he climbed slowly to his feet and shuffled after her. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’m very tired.” Closer to the door he stopped and she could have screamed with frustration. “You won’t say anything about this to anyone, will you? If I lose my job ….”

I certainly will, she thought. If he went this far with her, he could go further with someone else. “No, of course not. It’s just between you and me,” she said.

He walked out the patio door and down the back steps. With a sob, Astrid locked and bolted the door. She ran to grab her mobile and checked for Dylan’s number. When he answered, she rushed to explain.

“Astrid, for God’s sake. English, please,” Dylan said, alarmed.

She took a deep breath. “Dylan, could you come. Now, please?”

* * * *

LONDON 1890

The fire was terrifying. Flames licked the curtain, and climbed the walls as dense, stifling smoke filled the theatre. The last of the audience, coughing and screaming, rushed to the back door, followed by actors and stagehands. They turned away when they found it had been barred from the outside. They hurried to join those escaping through the front door.

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