Fourteen Days

“Hello. Welcome to Altalia,” the waiter said with a strong Italian accent. “Would you like something to drink?”


“Yes please,” Richard said excitedly as he pointlessly glanced at the drinks menu, even though he knew exactly what to order. He ran his index finger down the list and said, “A pint of lager please,” still hoping Nicky hadn’t spotted his obvious guilt.

“And for the lady?” the waiter asked her.

She smiled, not looking at the menu. “Just a small glass of dry white wine, please.”

Nodding, the waiter returned a smile and left the table.

“So, how was working on your day off? Nice?” Richard asked, this time looking her straight in the eye, disguising his guilt.

“It was nice actually. None of the bosses were in, so it was just me and Sian.”

“Who’s Sian? Don’t think you’ve mentioned her before,” he asked, desperate to keep the conversation alive.

She gave a look of disbelief. “She came to our wedding?”

He looked up as he tried to recall her. “No, can’t remember her. There were loads of people there that I didn’t know.”

“Well, anyway,” she continued, sounding slightly agitated, “she’s really nice.”

He could clearly feel an atmosphere had begun to form; the last thing he needed tonight. Relieved, he saw the waiter approach the table carrying their drinks.

“Thank you,” Richard said, shuffling in his chair as the drinks were placed on the table.

Richard took a large swig of his pint glass and then picked up the menu. “What do you fancy eating?”

Opening up her menu, she scanned the page. “Not sure. Maybe the carbonara.” She turned the page. “Or maybe the fish.”

“Well, I know what I’m having,” he confidently announced.

“Let me guess—lasagne?”

He smiled, and then nodded proudly. “Spot on. Lasagne. And some garlic bread.”

“Sounds nice, babe,” she said, clearly humoring him.

The couple put down the menus and looked at each other. This time Richard was the one who reached out to place a hand over hers, still sensing a little suspicion from her. “So what shall we do tomorrow?” he asked, stroking her hand with his middle finger.

She shrugged. “Don’t know. We could go see a film again.”

“Sounds good.”

“You’re back in work on Tuesday.”

He nodded.

“How’d you feel about that?”

“All right actually. Glad to go back. Can’t tell you how boring it’s been stuck in the house all day.”

“Have you spoken to Leah lately?”

“No. The last time I tried to phone her, she hung up on me.”

She gave off a small laugh through her nostrils. “Good for her. You shouldn’t be calling work anyway.”

“I wonder how they’ve coped without me there. I don’t even know if the website is up and running.”

She sipped her wine. “I’m sure everything went fine. Leah knows what she’s doing.”

He gave her an unsure look. “Yeah, hopefully.”

“Well, as long as two weeks relaxing at home has cleared your head—don’t want you fainting again.”

Relaxing? he thought.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “It was just a one-off. I haven’t felt anything like that since I’ve been home. No funny turns at all.”

“That’s good to know. Let’s just hope the doctor gives you the all-clear next week.”

“Yeah, me too. Can’t say I want to go through that again.”

“No, me neither. It was horrible seeing you in the hospital like that.”


Richard nodded, and then took a sip of his lager. “So, are you looking forward to having the house all to yourself again?”

“No, not really. It’s been really nice having you home when I walk through the door. And I’m surprised by how nice you’ve kept the place. I was worried you’d make a huge mess every day.”

“Well, normally I would, but I’ve been so bloody bored that there’s nothing else to do. I tell you, Nic, I don’t know how unemployed or retired people cope. It’s only been two weeks and I’ve been pulling my hair out.”

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