| |
––––––––
On Sunday, Christian realised he had thoroughly enjoyed the weekend and had forgotten about work but the time was fast approaching when the awful state of affairs at ClinTry would have to be faced. Outwardly, the business appeared for the moment at least, to be reputable, saved from collapse by a generous benefactor whereas the truth was quite the opposite.
At 5.30 p.m. the children were sitting at the kitchen table with Christian making sure their homework was up to date for Monday morning whilst Geraldine began to prepare dinner. Seeing her chopping vegetables and making a pasta sauce from scratch was a rare sight and Christian was so looking forward to a home-cooked meal.
‘Mmm that smells good,’ he said. ‘I’m getting hungry!’
‘It won’t be too long, we’ll eat at six, OK? Now, spaghetti or tagliatelle?’
‘Rufus and Persephone, you decide, I don’t mind either,’ he said.
‘Tagliatelle! They both shouted.’
‘Coming up!’ replied Geraldine.
The children carried on with their homework and Christian checked his phone. To his relief, there were no messages from Laura. After the children were asleep he was going to message her and tell her that although it had been good while it lasted their relationship was over.
**
Nimrod had been itching to check what was brewing in the shed all weekend but due to the nice weather the garden had been occupied on both days and on Sunday his housemates decided to have a barbecue. He didn’t normally socialise with them but as they had kindly invited him, he graciously accepted. It also meant he could keep an eye on things in the garden, specifically in the region of the shed. There was an anxious moment when one of them had tried the old key in the padlock as they had forgotten that the barbecue wasn’t in there any longer.
Nimrod overreacted and ran across shouting, ‘Mate! What are you going in there for?’
‘Calm down, fuck, what’s got into you?’ shouted his housemate.
Although he had the only key he was unnerved by their presence in the garden, he was used to it being his own domain. ‘Sorry, mate, I’ve got a few seedlings in there, didn’t want you to disturb them.’
‘You are turning into such an old woman, you ought to get out more. Jeez. Keep your hair on.’
‘Look, I’ve said I’m sorry. I’m just a bit tired that’s all!’
‘Get yourself a beer and chill out. Fuck’s sake.’
After a few beers, he started to relax and found himself chatting about general topics such as football, holidays, money and the mood lightened a little. The conversation continued but despite appearing to enjoy himself he could not relax fully. He desperately wanted the party to finish. After he had checked the progress of his reaction he would need to report back to Warrior and find out the plans for the material. The moment where he could make a real contribution was growing ever nearer and he was excited.
**
At 7 p.m. Christian and Geraldine were clearing up after the meal. The children had been told they could use their tablets for half an hour before they had to start getting ready for bed.
‘That was a lovely meal, darling,’ said Christian.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. There’s a bit of the sauce left for tomorrow evening.’
‘Great. It’s been such a good weekend.’
‘Just like the old times before I started behaving like a complete idiot,’ said Geraldine.
‘Well, I’ve not exactly been a bundle of laughs either,’ added Christian. He’d not been completely honest with his wife about the changes at ClinTry, nor the fact that he’d contacted a recruitment agency. That was for the future and he didn’t want to ruin two days of their rejuvenated relationship. It would need to be handled very delicately once they had rebuilt their mutual trust.
The doorbell rang.
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ asked Christian.
‘No, not me, it’s Sunday evening, no-one calls on a Sunday evening,’ said Geraldine. ‘I’ll go, you finish the washing up.’
Christian heard some conversation at the door and some nervous laughter. He was curious as to who it was. He was wiping his hands on a towel as Geraldine walked back into the kitchen.
‘He’s just here, would you like some coffee or tea. You can use the kitchen table if you need to discuss those documents before you send them off this evening.’
The towel dropped from Christian’s fingers and his mouth fell open. The blood drained from his face and he held on to the worktop to steady himself.
‘Evening, Christian,’ said their visitor. ‘I just need a couple more signatures from you following our meeting on Friday.’
