Whatever

Ros half turned from the sink. ‘I want to take a break.’

‘From teaching, do you mean?’ Nic looked up from his tablet.

‘From Aberdeen.’ Her hands gripped the worktop. ‘From us.’

‘But why?’ Baffled look.

‘You know why.’

‘I don’t.’

She threw up her hands. ‘Oh, come on, Nic, don’t give me that. If you’re to be believed, I haven’t done anything right for I don’t know how long. Not the house, not the job, not even our child.’

‘You’ve been working too hard.’

‘It’s not work,’ she retorted. ‘Work’s fine. In fact, if you must know, Seaton School is the only place I feel valued.’

‘By that new friend of yours, I suppose,’ he sneered.

‘It’s not that at all,’ she snapped back. ‘School is one of the very few places I can be myself.’

‘Oh, don’t be like that.’

‘There you go again. Making it sound like I’m the one that’s out of line and you’re the voice of sweet reason.’

‘Come on, sweetheart.’ He rose, crossed to her side, draped an arm around her shoulders. ‘We’re both tired.’

‘Agreed. But it’s more than just tiredness, Nic. We’ve been here before. Way too often. It’s time we did something about it. And if you won’t…’ She disengaged. ‘I will.’

‘If it’s the house,’ he countered. ‘I know it’s not ideal, but renting this place from the University is going to give us a head start in bumping up our mortgage deposit, and…’

She cut him short. ‘It’s not the house.’

‘Though now prices have dropped, we can probably afford to buy straightaway. We could have a look together online tonight,’ he rushed on. ‘See if there’s anything in our price bracket. Pick up some particulars at the solicitors’ property centre on Saturday morning.’

‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Her voice rose. ‘I said…it’s not the house.’

‘There, there.’ He patted her on the arm. ‘No need to get worked up.’

‘I’m not worked up.’ She leaned back, defeated. ‘Just worn out.’

‘See,’ he came right back. ‘I knew you were depressed.’

‘I’m not bloody depressed,’ she shrilled. ‘Well, I am. But not because I’ve had a child. It’s because I can’t get through the day without you criticising me: my job, my housekeeping, my parenting skills, my fashion sense, my family, my friends…’

‘Whoa.’ He held up both hands in surrender. ‘Can’t be that bad.’

She took a steadying breath. ‘It is.’

Sheepish grin. ‘Sounds like I’ve been a bad boy.’

Her heart tugged. ‘Yes, it does.’ She steeled herself. ‘That’s why I need a break.’

‘Don’t go.’ He cupped her chin, tilted her face towards his. ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

Ros felt a stirring between her thighs. Willed it to go away.

‘My intentions are good, you have to believe me, Ros. You do…’ He planted a kiss on her forehead. ‘Don’t you, babes?’

She flinched. God, she hated when he used that word.

‘If you’ve misunderstood, I’m sorry.’

‘You’re at it again,’ she cried, exasperated. ‘Twisting everything round. I can’t hack it, Nic. It’s doing my head in.’

‘Please!’ He grasped hold of her upper arms. Too hard. She could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh. ‘We could go out somewhere… Supper, maybe even a hotel overnight. A date night.’ He flashed a boyish smile.

‘But…’ Ros could feel her resolve weaken. ‘The baby…’

‘We can get a babysitter. That cook from the halls…she managed fine that last time, didn’t she?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘You’re too hard on yourself, that’s part of the problem, my precious. Not that it isn’t a good thing to have standards,’ he added gravely. ‘In moderation, of course. Now…’ He planted a kiss on her lips. ‘Why don’t we make a day of it on Saturday. Catch up with each other. If you’re a really good girl, we might even buy you…’

A treat! Ros framed the words in her head. Wasn’t that Nic’s answer to everything: when he commandeered the car for some sports fixture, when he rolled in late, when he splurged on computer games? Exasperated, she wrenched free.

‘So… Saturday.’ Nic caught hold of her wrist, held it in a vice. ‘What do you say?’

She looked into his eyes. Read challenge tempered by apprehension. ‘Whatever,’ she replied.