Free All the Rage by Spencer Coleman

me how? ’ he asked endearingly.
    She stretched forward across the table, closing her eyes in anticipation.
    â€˜Kiss me for starters,’ she demanded.
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    ***
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    â€˜Michael? ’
    He listened to the familiar voice and his heart sank. He found a chair and took a mouthful of whisky to help clear his parched throat. He was sure she heard his audible sigh.
    â€˜Adele. ’ He swapped the telephone from one ear to the other and remained silent.
    â€˜We haven’t spoken for some time,’ she said. ‘How are you? ’
    â€˜Fine. ’
    â€˜I’ve deliberately kept away from the gallery. I’m sure you appreciate the space…especially after the last couple of weeks. I need to come in to bring the company books up to date. Would you prefer if I worked from home? ’
    He thought for a moment, his mind elsewhere. ‘Whatever suits you, really. ’
    â€˜Michael, I don’t wish to create a scene or bad atmosphere, but it would be preferable to come in. The VAT figures need to be compiled and all the information I need is in the gallery. How about I come in on Monday? ’
    â€˜Monday it is. ’
    â€˜Will Kara be in? I need her to help me, if that’s all right. ’
    â€˜She will. ’
    There was an awkward pause, illustrated in his mind as a ten foot high brick wall separating them. All that was required was the barbed wire to be added on the top.
    â€˜Michael, we don’t have to be like this. ’
    â€˜It’s what you want, isn’t it? ’
    â€˜No. It doesn’t have to be like this. ’ Her voice softened.
    â€˜You asked for a divorce, Adele. I’m not familiar with the rules. How should it be? ’
    â€˜There are no rules, Michael. We all stumble through things like this. ’
    He shuddered. ‘Really? What about your ludicrous financial demands? No stumbling there, I notice. ’
    â€˜We can talk. We can still talk. ’
    â€˜Adele, we have talked, but I still do not know why you want a divorce. You have never really explained yourself. ’
    â€˜I have,’ she replied indignantly. ‘But you choose not to listen. Is that my fault? ’
    â€˜I listen but I do not understand. I confess ignorance. ’
    It was Adele’s turn to sigh. ‘I feel smothered and I need to find my own identity again. I know you have difficulty comprehending this notion but we’ve become wrapped up in the business to the degree that we are now more like business partners and that is not enough for me, Michael. There has to be something else, surely? ’
    â€˜Something else? Or someone else ? ’ he asked guardedly.
    â€˜Michael, this doesn’t have to connect to someone else. It can just be for me. ’
    â€˜Is there someone else? I need to know. If there is no one then what you are doing is madness…We’re throwing too much away. Can’t you see that? ’
    He could hear her draw breath.
    â€˜There, there could be someone,’ she eventually said, almost in a whisper.
    He could sense the resignation in her voice.
    â€˜I’ll see you on Monday,’ he said, aware that his reply was cold and remote.
    Quietly, he replaced the handset. He then downed the remains of the whisky and threw the glass against a wall, smashing it into thousands of tiny fragments.
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    ***
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    The next day was a bit of a blur for Michael. He nursed a terrible hangover and cursed under his breath just thinking about Adele. He was convinced that either this unpleasant situation with her, or drinking too much whisky would instigate his downfall. Probably both, he thought. He suddenly felt old and fragile. On top of that, just as he wished for quiet and an uneventful day, he noticed Kara was euphoric, floating on dreams and generally irritating everyone. The end of the working day couldn’t come quickly enough for him.
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    ***
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    At closing time, Kara breathlessly skipped her