Good Husband Material by Trisha Ashley

Author:Trisha Ashley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General
ISBN: 1847562817
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2013-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

I couldn’t resist buying them, though I don’t know if I’ll read them.

Still, there’s one in my luggage – Love Goes West – in case the urge comes over me.

That probably makes me a very, very sad man.

Chapter 24: Reciprocations

Woke up to find James in bed next to me wearing only a loosely knotted tie, which I was tempted to tighten.

How did he get his shirt off?

He looked dreadfully green, unshaven and baggy-eyed by the light of the Teasmade, and groaned, ‘Put that light out!’ as I poured my coffee.

I ignored him. Frankly. I don’t feel that I ever want to speak to him again, and I don’t particularly mind if I never see him again, either.

As I got up I trod on Bess, who must have come up with him, and she yelped loudly, causing James to groan again and put his head under the pillow.

I apologised to Bess and she watched me dolefully as I put on my dressing gown, because she knows I don’t go for walks wearing that. ‘Come on down, Bess.’

I let her out into the garden and as I stumbled rather blearily into the bathroom, I thought I heard a rather un-Toby-like noise from the living room.

On my return, slightly more alert, I heard it again and opened the door, revealing Horrible Howard, in a pair of sordid, once-white underpants, sitting on my lovely pale cream sofa with his head in his hands.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I demanded, in quite reasonable tones considering that I wanted to kick him off my sofa and have it fumigated.

‘Don’t shout, man!’ he whimpered.

‘I’m not a man, and I wasn’t shouting. I just asked why you’re here. Why are you here?’

‘Oh God!’ he groaned and, turning his spindly shanks, clambered back into the crumpled pink sleeping bag behind him, like a snail returning to its shell, and didn’t reply to anything else I said.

It was my sleeping bag.

Upstairs I shook James until he was awake enough to answer my demands as to where he was last night, and what Howard was doing in my sleeping bag, on my sofa, in my house.

‘We had a drink … came back here, had some whisky …’ he muttered blearily. ‘I lent Howard a sleeping bag – too late to go home … anyway, he came in my car. Look, Tish, I feel awful! Get me an Alka-Seltzer, will you?’

‘Get your own bloody Alka-Seltzer!’ I screamed, and slammed out of the room, a gesture only spoiled by my having to go back in to get my clothes.

James seemed to have lost consciousness again. (Wish it was permanent.)

I dressed hurriedly and then took Bess for a long walk. I was so angry that I just went on and on, mulling everything over and feeling very reluctant to go back and see James ever again. Not to mention my cream sofa.

And he even gave Howard my sleeping bag to put his grimy body and disgusting underpants into!

‘This is the end!’ I told Bess, who wagged her tail with vague approval.

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