Free The Art of Standing Still by Penny Culliford Page B

opened her eyes. And screamed. Two eyes stared back at her through the windscreen.
    She closed her eyes again for a moment, willing the apparition to go away. She took a deep breath and then, once more, squinted at the windscreen. This time the face took shape.
    â€˜Richard!’ She lowered the window. ‘What are you doing here?’
    â€˜Nice to see you too.’
    â€˜What do you want?’
    â€˜Don’t worry. I haven’t come to ask you to have me back. I’ve just come for my stuff. I left it as long as I could.’
    â€˜I know.’ Jemma studied his unshaven face and bloodshot eyes. He could certainly do with some of his clothes and toiletries. ‘I packed them all up for you.’ Jemma wound up the window and got out of the car. She opened the boot and nodded at the black bags.
    â€˜Take them,’ she said.
    â€˜Thing is,’ he hesitated, ‘I haven’t got the car.’
    â€˜Where is it?’
    â€˜In the repair shop. I had a bit of a disagreement with a Ford Mondeo.’
    â€˜Let me guess. You were in such a hurry to get away from me you weren’t looking where you were going?’
    â€˜Jems, don’t. Please.’
    â€˜Don’t call me that!’ Jemma slammed the boot shut and started walking towards the Hog .
    â€˜Look, I’m sorry to disturb you at this time of night. In fact, I’m sorry that I’ve had to come back at all. I didn’t want you to see me like this.’
    â€˜Like what?’ Jemma turned and looked at him in the moonlight. His clothes were crumpled and his hair was unkempt.
    â€˜I . . . I haven’t been well.’
    â€˜Bring out the violins!’
    â€˜I went to the doctor and everything. He said it was stress. He gave me some tablets.’
    â€˜So? What do you expect me to do about it?’
    â€˜I just want a bit of understanding. A bit of sympathy.’
    â€˜Like you gave me when you dumped me. You didn’t even let me down gently. You didn’t try to talk to me. You didn’t give me the opportunity to try to sort this out. You just left me a letter – no, not even a letter. A note. A note written on a scrappy piece of envelope. It looked like something you’d found in the bin! Do you know what that says to me, Richard? That our relationship was garbage. It wasn’t worth the effort while we were in it, and to end it you used something I wouldn’t even use to write a shopping list. You were always very keen on the symbolic. Well that just about says it all.’
    â€˜I’m sorry.’
    â€˜No, you’re not. We could have talked. You could have spoken to me. Just one word – ’
    â€˜I didn’t know how to say goodbye.’
    â€˜There, you just said it. It wasn’t that hard!’
    â€˜There were things . . . things that made it difficult to stay.’
    â€˜So what was her name? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know!’
    â€˜It wasn’t like that. Please, Jemma . . .’
    â€˜No!’
    They had reached the moorings, and Jemma fumbled for her keys.
    â€˜Could I come in for a moment?’
    â€˜How could you even ask that?’
    â€˜Thing is . . . I’ve got nowhere else to stay. I had to leave the flat . . .’
    â€˜I don’t believe this!’ She unlocked the padlock and switched on the lights. She felt chilled from the night air.
    â€˜Can I at least have a coffee? Please?’
    He looked pathetic. And if this new girl had thrown him out . . .
    She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, just one coffee and you go.’ Jemma filled the kettle and turned on the heater. The small cabin would soon be cosy. She looked at the spare berth. Perhaps one night . . .
    Her mobile phone rang. She tucked it against her shoulder while she continued to spoon out the coffee granules into two mugs.
    â€˜Hi, Jemma. It’s Josh. I hope you don’t mind me ringing. Ruth Wells gave me your