‘So this is some kind of hunger strike then.’
‘No, Jack, of course it isn’t. I know that Millie is going to need me, I know I have to keep my strength up. But I can’t help it if I’ve lost my appetite. I’m sure most people would, given the circumstances.’ I let my voice rise an octave. ‘Have you any idea what it’s like for me on a day-to-day basis, not being able to choose what I want to eat or when I want to eat? Have you any idea what it’s like to have to rely on you for absolutely everything, to sometimes have to wait two or three days for food because you decide I need punishing, or can’t be bothered to bring me anything? You’re not exactly the most generous of jailers, Jack!’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have made so many attempts to escape,’ he snapped. ‘If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have needed to confine you to this room and you could have led a perfectly decent life with me.’
‘Decent! With you controlling my every move? You don’t even know the meaning of the word! Go on, Jack, punish me. Deprive me of food, see if I care. If I don’t eat again for a week, at least I’ll be too weak to attend Millie’s birthday party next Sunday.’
‘You’d better start eating again,’ he threatened, realising the truth of what I’d said.
‘Or what, Jack?’ I taunted. ‘You can’t force me to eat, you know.’ I paused. ‘But, as it isn’t in Millie’s interest that I die, or in yours, why don’t you do us both a favour and pour me a whisky in the evenings when you pour your own and my appetite might come back a little.’
‘I call the shots around here, remember,’ he reminded me.
However, when it came to food, he no longer did. Realising that he needed to keep me healthy, he began to do as I’d asked. I made sure that I never ate much, because it was important he thought I really had lost my appetite, but it was equally important that I ate enough to merit the small amount of whisky he brought me when he got in from work. By the time Millie’s party came round, I was confident I’d be able to achieve my aim before Millie came to live with us, two months down the line—as long as nothing happened to interrupt the routine of Jack bringing me whisky every evening.
PRESENT
I stand in front of the house, my case at my feet. The double gates are shut but the small gate—the one that I came out of—is ajar. I hear Esther’s car approaching and, turning back towards the house, I give a little wave. She pulls up next to me, gets out and opens the boot.
‘I could have come all the way to the door, you know,’ she reproaches, helping me to lift my suitcase into the car.
‘I thought it would save time. Thank you for coming to fetch me at such short notice.’
‘No problem,’ she smiles. ‘But we’re going to have to hurry if you’re to make your flight.’ As she closes the boot, I wave towards the house again, blow a kiss and pull the gate closed behind me.
‘I wish he was coming with me,’ I say fretfully. ‘I hate leaving him when he’s so down.’
‘It’s the first case he’s lost, isn’t it?’
‘Yes—I think that’s why he’s taken it so hard. But he did think the husband was guilty or he wouldn’t have taken it on in the first place. Unfortunately, Dena Anderson was less than truthful with Jack and hid certain things from him, including the fact that she had a lover.’
‘It seems he was the real culprit.’
‘I don’t know all the ins and outs of it, but I expect he’ll tell me when he joins me. It’s funny—I used to travel all over the world on my own yet the thought of spending a few days alone in Thailand is disconcerting. I’m so used to having Jack with me. I’m not sure quite what he expects me to do for the next four days.’
‘Have a nice rest, I suppose.’
‘I would rather have waited for him but he was so insistent,’ I go on. ‘And I know better than to argue with him when he’s made up his mind about something.’ I look over at her. ‘You see, he can be a little imperfect sometimes.’
‘Insisting that you go ahead of him on holiday is not imperfect,’ she reminds me.
‘No, I suppose not. Once he explained that he wouldn’t enjoy the holiday if he had to face all the paperwork when he came back, I understood better. He really needs to be able to relax on this holiday, especially as it’s probably the last we’ll be able to have on our own. It’s normal that he prefers to stay and get everything filed away—although I rather think that if he had won the case, he wouldn’t have minded quite so much about being reminded of it when we got back,’ I add ruefully.
‘He probably wants to lick his wounds in private,’ she agrees. ‘You know what men are like.’
‘The thing is, we’re hoping to conceive a baby while we’re in Thailand, which is another reason he wants to be completely relaxed. It’s about the right time,’ I admit, blushing a little.