It was the end of Tessa's shift, Finlay was meeting her, she felt hot at the thought. One more call,
Loud sobs and a deep breath,
'It's my husband, ' it usually is, sighed Tessa.
'He's having an affair, ' he usually is, Tessa yawned.
'I've got twins, they cry all the time.
I look a mess, it used to be so perfect.'
More sobbing.
Tessa drummed perfect nails on the desk.
'I can't live without him, Finlay's my world.'
It was a punch in the stomach,
' Look just tell your husband....' She paused
'Tell him you love him.'
Sunday 26 November 2017
Turning Heads, Flash Fiction
'Et Voilà, do you like the back?'
Mary looked up from the magazine and stared in the mirror.
She'd asked Fleur to transform her and she certainly had.
She'd slunk into the hairdressers, wet from a car splashing through a puddle.
She stepped out, head high, relishing the curls bouncing on her shoulders. A car passed with a chorus of wolf whistles, a man on his bike blew a kiss.
A low voice in her ear, the one she wanted to hear, she turned round, the curls swayed and bounced.
'I'll never call you Mousy Mary again, please forgive me.'
Mary looked up from the magazine and stared in the mirror.
She'd asked Fleur to transform her and she certainly had.
She'd slunk into the hairdressers, wet from a car splashing through a puddle.
She stepped out, head high, relishing the curls bouncing on her shoulders. A car passed with a chorus of wolf whistles, a man on his bike blew a kiss.
A low voice in her ear, the one she wanted to hear, she turned round, the curls swayed and bounced.
'I'll never call you Mousy Mary again, please forgive me.'
Monday 20 November 2017
Full of Woe
A wave of pain swept over Abbie and she grimaced, breathing hard and waiting for it to pass. She struggled to pick up her phone and look at the time. It was 11pm. It was still Tuesday, she might just make it. It had to be a Tuesday. Abbie hated Wednesdays. She'd been born on one and her mum was forever telling people how appropriate it was.
'Our Abbie's full of woe' she'd say in a gloomy voice to anyone who'd listen. 'Not like our Sophie, born on a Monday and beautiful as they come'. If the listener still seemed interested she'd tell them about Emma who danced into the world on a Tuesday and had been twirling and pirouetting ever since. Abbie's mum put such faith in any saying. If they saw a magpie on its own she'd get in a fluster until they spotted another one. Abbie often pretended she'd seen one just to calm her down.
Another sharp pain gripped her stomach and she cried out. John came hurrying into the room, blowing on a cup of coffee. He took a sip and reached for her hand. He winced in pain as she grasped it with force.
'You ok love? Sorry I just had to have some coffee, I feel so sleepy...'
John's voice was cut off as an alarm sounded and people came rushing into the room, bent over Abbie and wheeled her off. One of the nurses turned to him.
'Put on your gown and shoes and follow us, it's all going to be alright.' She smiled at him and then hurried after Abbie.
Abbie clenched her hands as pain swept through her and felt a wave of sheer panic, then a needle went in her and she lay back. She watched them in amazement as they groped around under the green cloth and then gasped in wonder as she saw him, it was him, all along she'd been waiting for him, she was totally unprepared for the force of love that hit her. The nurse, Julie, handed him to her and Abbie looked up and there was John, tears streaming down his face. He pointed to a glass window. There was mum, Emma and Sophie waving and crying and hugging each other.
Julie was writing out the forms and clamped a little arm band on him. She looked up at the clock.
'It's midnight, right on the dot. We can let you choose, Tuesday or Wednesday.'
Abbie glanced at John and grinned. John answered for her.
'I like Wednesday, it's a great day, all the best people are born on Wednesday.'
'Our Abbie's full of woe' she'd say in a gloomy voice to anyone who'd listen. 'Not like our Sophie, born on a Monday and beautiful as they come'. If the listener still seemed interested she'd tell them about Emma who danced into the world on a Tuesday and had been twirling and pirouetting ever since. Abbie's mum put such faith in any saying. If they saw a magpie on its own she'd get in a fluster until they spotted another one. Abbie often pretended she'd seen one just to calm her down.
Another sharp pain gripped her stomach and she cried out. John came hurrying into the room, blowing on a cup of coffee. He took a sip and reached for her hand. He winced in pain as she grasped it with force.
'You ok love? Sorry I just had to have some coffee, I feel so sleepy...'
John's voice was cut off as an alarm sounded and people came rushing into the room, bent over Abbie and wheeled her off. One of the nurses turned to him.
'Put on your gown and shoes and follow us, it's all going to be alright.' She smiled at him and then hurried after Abbie.
Abbie clenched her hands as pain swept through her and felt a wave of sheer panic, then a needle went in her and she lay back. She watched them in amazement as they groped around under the green cloth and then gasped in wonder as she saw him, it was him, all along she'd been waiting for him, she was totally unprepared for the force of love that hit her. The nurse, Julie, handed him to her and Abbie looked up and there was John, tears streaming down his face. He pointed to a glass window. There was mum, Emma and Sophie waving and crying and hugging each other.
Julie was writing out the forms and clamped a little arm band on him. She looked up at the clock.
'It's midnight, right on the dot. We can let you choose, Tuesday or Wednesday.'
Abbie glanced at John and grinned. John answered for her.
'I like Wednesday, it's a great day, all the best people are born on Wednesday.'
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