Free Two Short Stories and Three Very Short Stories by Madeleine Oh Page B

certain.” He looked worried. He should. “You go take care of your crisis. Don’t bother about us.” I sure wasn’t going to bother about him and, if I had my way, neither would Emily.
    He streaked off in his Jaguar. Emily and I set out in her little Fiesta. Size was of no importance.
    “Take me on the tourist tour?” I asked. “Show me the sights, and all the bookshops. We can stop somewhere for lunch and somewhere for tea and somewhere for a drink, and if we really feel like it, another somewhere for dinner.”
    She giggled like a schoolgirl let out of boarding school. We visited the book stores, and had coffee in a dark-paneled cafe where we sat close in a corner and she confided in me that Alec worked terribly long hours. His new wife felt neglected. She took me to the rose garden and the maze. We got nicely lost, and held hands muddling our way out.
    She drove to the beach. “It’s almost deserted,” I said looking at the great crescent of golden sand. “No one’s swimming.”
    “Too damn cold. This is the North Sea.”
    It wouldn’t stop me. “I’ve got to put a toe in after coming this far.”
    I left my shoes in the car and ran across the beach. Emily hesitated a few seconds, before following me. The tide was out. I zig-zagged over the hard sand, glancing over my shoulder. Emily followed, cutting off corners, trying to catch up. I let her, just as we neared the water.
    “Chicken?” I teased as I jumped in. Emily hadn’t been kidding. An icy wash hit my ankles. She stared. I took a step deeper and held up my skirt.
    “Never!” She followed me, and gasped. “This is ridiculous!”
    I wouldn’t argue. We ran along the water’s edge, keeping to the firm sand. My toes were tingling with cold as I out-ran Emily again. The girl was no marathoner, that was for sure, so I slowed to take her hand, as I made a beeline for the car.
    By time we got there, my feet were numb and turning red, and my calves stung from salt water and North Sea wind. Emily was shivering. “Alec will never believe we did that!” Her right eye watered from the cold, but she grinned.
    “Why need he know? Do you tell him everything?”
    She shook her head. Slowly. “Not everything.”
    Smart girl.
    We wiped our feet on Alec’s cricketing sweater. The closely knitted wool warmed our skin as it absorbed the damp and the sand. The sweater was unwearable by the time we were finished. Emily shook her head at it. “He’ll throw a wobbly when he sees that.”
    “Let’s save him the worry, then.” I took the sand-and-salt-encrusted heap and tossed it toward the beach, the wind caught it momentarily, whipping it higher before it fell, wet and heavy, on the sand.
    Emily watched it arc up and fall. I wasn’t too sure of the look on her face. Regret? Shock? Worry? Until she smiled. “I doubt he’ll miss it until next summer.” She shrugged. A wry smile twisted her mouth. She took my hand and squeezed.
    I pulled her to me. Slowly. Giving her time to draw back, I wrapped my arms around her and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll never tell,” I said. She kissed back, a soft whisper of skin on my chilled lips. The warmth of her breath was lost in the wind but the heat of her body wasn’t. We stood, arms entwined, warming each other against the wind. It wasn’t enough. Emily shivered. “We need to get out of the cold,” I said. “Where’s the nearest place for a drink?”
    The all-but-deserted bar of a vast Victorian hotel.
    Dark Lincrusta covered the walls and the rings of generations of damp glasses marred the oak tables. Emily ran her fingers up and down her glass. I raised my drink and savored the best single malt whisky the bald-headed bartender had to offer. Watching Emily over the rim of my glass, I drank. The old codger’s best was pretty good. I took another taste, holding the whiskey in my mouth and working it over my tongue before swallowing.
    Emily’s manicured nails tapped the side of her glass. She