– Kim’s refuge.
Waking from her reverie, Kim entered the building she called home and, as usual, checked the security cameras before climbing the stairs to shower. The gates were secured and there was nothing signalling alarm. After showering, she towelled herself dry and applied a heavy dose of Nivea to soak into her skin, then slipped on a summer shirt and headed back down to the laundry room. Sticking out her tongue at the pile in the basket, she pulled out the ironing board from its cupboard, followed by the iron. Turning the dial to cool, she briefly ran the iron over the new ski-wear she had collected over the last few months. She had washed fleeces, T-shirts, thermals and jeans. Then she realised what a waste of time it all was – they didn’t need ironing. As she looked up at the clock, she heard the rattle of Will’s keys.
‘Have a good day, love?’ she asked noticing beads of sweat bubbling on his skin as he slapped his laptop case onto the worktop close to her. He’d only walked from the car.
‘Nah, not the best.’
‘I don’t know why you didn’t book a flight and come with me to Switzerland. Or London at least – spend Christmas with Avril.’
Will rolled his eyes. ‘She won’t want me there; she’s all loved up. Anyway, odds on they’ll be spending Crimbo with his folks.’
‘You think? She hasn’t said.’ Kim creased her eyebrows, anticipating more information.
Will shrugged, smoothing his greying hair with his fingers. ‘Well, I’m flat out over the holidays so it ain’t gonna happen. Besides, you’ll be with your friends and I know that means a lot to you.’ He kissed the back of her neck as if knowing it should soothe any tension about the subject. She had given up trying to persuade him to retire and move back to England. It only upset him and caused rows. He wasn’t ready to give up his specialised work with the oncology team in Perth, and understandably so; they were making great headway treating, even curing women with breast cancer. Plans were now in place to set up a one-stop care centre over the next two years. She knew he couldn’t bear to abandon the team.
Kim placed the iron down on its safety grid, turning to Will. As she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, his arms slid around her waist whilst he leaned down to kiss a short tuft of her hair.
His lips brushed hers. ‘I must be crazy to let such a beautiful woman out of my sight for twelve days.’ He took a step back and eyed her naked body beneath the thin linen shirt. ‘Look at you. Girls in their twenties are less lean and toned. God, I wanna eat you!’ He pulled her close again and Kim instantly felt his arousal.
‘I have things to do and you need a shower,’ she said, freeing herself from his embrace.
‘All the trouble you go to so that you can ski and see your friends and you can’t spare me half an hour of your time.’
Kim sighed, blinking hard, then peering up at him, she said, ‘Go, shower and I’ll be up in five. God, why don’t men have a menopause and lose their drive? You owe me.’
Will smiled and gave her a squeeze. ‘Aw, come on, I don’t make that many demands.’
Kim tightened her lips, staring at his hand. ‘I know, but …’ She paused. ‘Never mind, no you don’t,’ she said softly, when what she really wanted to say was: Be warned. I’m going to be notching up enough credit so that you honour my desires, my yearning to move back to England. But it would have no effect. Will had made his view very clear, so it would only create an argument.
‘Besides, you’re not going to see me for nearly two weeks.’ He headed for the hall stairs. ‘I’ll be washed and waiting.’
Switching off the iron, Kim rubbed her forehead. She would never stop loving her husband, but she found herself immensely irritated with his reluctance to discuss their future. The last time she approached him about it, they rowed and didn’t speak for days, and since then she’d lost the courage to broach the subject, allowing the issue to fester inside her for fear of upsetting him.
At times her life was an island, floating in a vast and desolate sea. Yes, Will was her dream husband, but he could be stubborn as a mule. Not that she would have noticed it as a young nurse. She was blinded to his faults and blown away when the handsome Dr Will Anderson flirted with her. She’d almost exploded when he had asked her to be his plus-one at the Hospital Christmas Dinner. And, as a partner, he had always been so loving and strong, even through the dark days of their fertility problems. It was that love that kept them strong throughout the long IVF treatments and the longing for a family.
Naturally, there was tension – lots of it at times – but letters to and from her friends had kept her spirits up so she and Will had got through it. And, eventually, the twins had made them complete. Now that the twins had flown the nest and Will was more and more absorbed in his work, she found herself pining. Her only deep friendship since moving to Oz in her mid-twenties was a previous neighbour, Marnie, who nowadays was blessed enough to spend much of her time with her seven grandchildren.
Kim climbed the stairs, aware that Will had probably had his shower. She didn’t find intimacy so easy since the menopause had scared off her libido, but Will was very understanding. He did make an effort to get her in the mood first with his caresses. And the acupuncture she’d had helped. If only he comprehended her other needs as readily. Something to distract her from pining. She lifted her chin as she entered the bedroom, seeing Will towelling his lean body after his shower. Again, she would try her best to push her thoughts to the back of her mind.
Cathy
As efficient as always, Cathy Golding had completed her list of morning chores as well as the last of her packing and sat in her book-bulging study to switch on her laptop. She checked her watch: 8.29. She picked up a brazil nut from a small dish and nibbled on it, well on her way to consuming one half of her daily dose of protein and selenium. Outside the window, the grey winter sky and depleted front garden motivated her to get writing to reach the end of her story. She opened the document entitled ‘Sally’s New Bike’, the summer story she was submitting to a woman’s magazine. After enduring more than thirty years teaching English Literature and Language to girls at the local secondary school, albeit with much commendation and personal satisfaction, Cathy was finally living her dream.
She craned her neck to check she had closed the door. There was only Anthony, her husband, in the house, but he managed to disrupt her more in a morning than a class of thirty twelve-year-olds ever had in a whole day. As it was Christmas Eve, she needed to finish the story ready for posting before her ski trip to Switzerland on Boxing Day with her closest friends.
Reading the last two paragraphs, Cathy then read the notes underneath and began typing. Each day, before closing a document, she had formed the habit of adding a few brief sentences so that she could instantly pick up the thread next time. And, she found it was always good to note her ideas down, even if a better idea came along later – which they often did. She tapped swiftly on her keyboard, only pausing here and there for thought, but no sooner was she in the zone than she heard the familiar drum of Anthony’s slippers on the floorboards outside, then the clack of the handle on the study door. Anthony was never subtle.
His voice boomed, jolting her from the zone. ‘Would you like tea?’
Cathy took a deep breath and turned her head. ‘Yes, but please, darling, I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you. Just bring it, and quietly. If I don’t want it, I’ll leave it.’
‘Yes, sorry again.’ Anthony
