Death Before Time by Andrew Puckett Read Free Book Online Page B

wildly with no finesse whatsoever and they both came almost immediately – “Oh Fraser,” he heard her say as he spilled himself into her, and then the regrets began.
    “Stay with me,” she said a little while later.
    “I have to get back,” he said. “I’m expected.”
    The truth was, he had to get away from her.
    He pulled on his clothes, kissed her and left.
    On the motorway, the wind thrummed tautly at the hood of the MG as the remorse ate into him.
    “I’m sorry, Frances,” he said, over and over.
    Only when he was at home with the first whisky inside him did it occur to him to wonder how she’d known it might be “too soon” for him.

 
    Chapter 7
     
    They were together again and everything was all right, then he woke and like Orpheus could only watch as Frances faded away in front of him … he buried his face in his pillow and vowed he’d never touch Helen again.
    He avoided her when he returned on Monday, yet felt a perverse disappointment when she made no effort to speak to him. Then, just as he was leaving for the day, he ran into her in the corridor.
    “You got back OK on Friday then?” Her smile dimpled the corners of her mouth and he remembered with a slight shock how attractive she was.
    “Yes, thanks.”
    She said, “I was wondering whether you’d like to come to my house for supper tomorrow.” Her eyes, six inches below his, looked up so guilelessly that he felt himself hardening.
    “Yes, I’d love to.”
    So much for resolve, he thought as she walked away.
    *
    He was going into the Social Club that evening when he saw a familiar figure emerge from the Georgian building next to it.
    “Patrick?”
    “Oh, hello Fraser.” His voice sagged with weariness, although he was as immaculately dressed as ever.
    “Working late?”
    “You could say that.”
    “Fancy a drink?”
    “In there …?
    Fraser laughed. “They don’t bite.”
    “Oh, all right, I’ll take a quick one with you.”
    The buzz in the bar fell away as they went in, then rose again. They took their drinks to a table.
    Patrick said, “D’you know, I’ve worked for seven years next door and this is the first time I’ve ever been in here.”
    “All that time and you didn’t know what you were missing.”
    Patrick smiled weakly. “So what brings you here?”
    Fraser explained that he lived just over the way. He added,
    “I wanted to say thanks for Friday … “
    Patrick made an ‘it-was-nothing’ gesture.
    “Was there any bother after we left?” Fraser asked.
    “From Himself, you mean? Not really. He had a little hunt round for her, a little rant at me when realised the two of you were missing, then he left himself. What about you – have you had any trouble?”
    “He just ignores me, looks through me as though I wasn’t there. But I think I can live with that.”
    Patrick smiled again, a twist of the lips, then said, “Forgive me asking, but are you and Helen … what’s the expression now? An item?”
    After a pause, Fraser said, “The strictly truthful answer to that is – I don’t know.”
    “Well, whatever your relationship is – I wouldn’t rub it in if I were you. I know he’s difficult, but the world’s too small and life’s too short to make enemies you don’t need.” He finished his drink. “And now you’ll forgive me if I leave – I’ve had it for today.”
    After he’d gone, Fraser thought about what he’d said. Not the words he’d used so much, but the way he and the others all seemed to be in each other’s pockets. It seemed … incestuous, almost.
    *
    “Come in.” Helen shut the door after him and put up her face for a kiss. She was wearing an apron and her face was slightly flushed. “Like some wine?”
    “Why not?”
    She showed him into the sitting room. “I’ll bring it to you here so that I can finish without any distractions.”
    Something made him choose an armchair rather than the sofa they’d used before. She came back in with a glass of white