Free Double Mortice by Bill Daly

vodka, with lots of tonic.’
    Michael went to the kitchen to fill an ice bucket and carried it to the bar at the far end of the lounge where he fixed Sheila’s drink. Opening a fresh bottle of malt whisky, he poured a generous measure into a crystal tumbler and dropped in two ice cubes. He carried the drinks across to the sofa where Sheila was seated and sat down beside her. ‘Cheers.’ he said, handing her her glass.
    Sheila held up her drink and chinked it against his. ‘So what’s this big decision all about?’
    Fixing his gaze on his whisky, Michael swilled the ice cubes round several times before gulping down half the contents in one swallow. ‘I’m going to leave Anne,’ he said quietly.
    Sheila put her glass down on a coaster on the coffee table. There was an uncomfortable silence. ‘Are you sure this is something you want to discuss with me, Mr Gibson?’
    ‘ Michael .’
    ‘ Michael ,’ she repeated softly. ‘How did Anne take the news?’
    ‘I haven’t told her yet. That’s why I wanted to get home early today. She’ll be here around six-thirty. I’m going to tell her then.’
    Sheila hesitated. ‘I’m not sure what you expect me to say. Do you want me to try to talk you out of this? Or do you want me to encourage you, or sympathise with you, or what –?’
    ‘I really don’t know what I want,’ Michael said, dragging his fingers through his hair. ‘I just need to talk to someone. I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing.’ He drained his whisky and held his hand out for Sheila’s glass. ‘Same again?’
    Sheila shook her head as she picked up her glass and covered it with her hand. ‘I’m fine.’ Crossing to the bar, Michael poured himself another stiff drink. ‘If I may be so bold as to ask – why are you going to do this?’
    ‘There’s someone else.’ Michael took a sip of whisky. ‘I suppose you know who she is?’
    ‘I’d have to be blind not to. I think everyone in the office is aware that you are – how can I put it – ‘in a relationship’ with Philippa Scott. And if anyone had the slightest doubt, the office party last Christmas convinced them. You hardly spoke to anyone else all evening.’
    ‘As obvious as that, eh?’ he said ruefully. ‘In which case it’s probably just as well it’s all going to be out in the open. Philippa and I will be moving in together.’
    ‘You have thought this through? This isn’t just a seven day wonder?’
    ‘I’m sure. At least – I think I am,’ he said, throwing back another slug of whisky. ‘Anyway, it’s too late to go back now. I’ve promised Philippa that I’ll tell Anne tonight. Tell me honestly, Sheila, what do you think of Philippa?’
    Sheila got to her feet and walked towards the window. ‘That’s a most unfair question. What I think of Philippa Scott is neither here nor there. It has no relevance whatsoever to your decision.’
    ‘I’m sorry. As usual, you’re right. It was just something Paul said this morning. He implied that everyone in the office thinks Philippa’s a gold-digger. She’s not like that. Really, she isn’t.’
    Sheila turned round to face him. ‘It’s not me you have to convince, Michael.’ She walked towards the coffee table and put down her untouched drink. ‘I really must be getting back to the office. Sandra’s on her own. And you’re not driving me,’ she added. ‘Not after what you’ve had to drink. I’ll get a taxi.’
    ‘Are you sure? I’m okay to drive.’
    ‘Quite sure.’
    ‘There’s a taxi rank outside the building. There are normally plenty of cabs around at this time of day, but I’ll come down with you to make sure. If there isn’t a taxi waiting, I’ll get the caretaker to call one for you. And thanks for the advice,’ he added.
    ‘I haven’t given you any advice, but I will give you some now. If you’re dead set on going through with this, then ease off on the whisky. You’ll need to be sober when you break the news to Anne. You