Page 63 of Vengeance is Mine

‘They’re only a pound in Morrisons.’

‘Are they?’ His smiled dropped. ‘The robbing buggers.’

The kettle boiled, and Barbara went to fill the teapot. ‘Harry, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t we redecorate?’

‘Redecorate?’ he asked, as if he’d never heard the word before.

‘Yes. We could strip the wallpaper in the living room, repaint the kitchen, and I’d love to get rid of that carpet on the stairs.’

‘What’s brought this on?’

‘Nothing. I just thought it would be nice to have a change.’

‘I don’t know, Barbara, not with my back.’

‘I’m not asking you to lay the carpet, just help me choose one. I’ll help out. I like stripping wallpaper. It’s therapeutic.’

‘I’m not sure.’ He pulled a face. ‘All that mess and upheaval. Do we really need that at our time of life?’

‘You’re sixty-five, Harry, not eighty-five.’

‘It just seems like too big a project.’

‘Fine. Forget it.’ She turned her back on her husband and poured hot water into the teapot.

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked, after he watched her throw the spoon into the sink and slam the teapot down on the table.

‘Everything is absolutely fine,’ she replied unconvincingly. She stood back and folded her arms tightly across her chest.

‘Barbara, sit down,’ he said, pulling out a chair at the breakfast table.

‘I don’t want to sit down, Harry. I want to pop down to B&Q and pick up some paint samples.’

‘Sit down,’ he said, raising his voice.

Reluctantly, she sat.

He sat opposite her, took her hands in his and squeezed them gently.

Barbara looked down at their joined hands. She saw liver spots, gnarled fingers, cavernous wrinkles and dulled skin. Getting old was cruel.

‘Tell me what’s going on.’

‘Nothing’s going on.’

‘You’ve been in a mood for weeks now. Is it that seasonal affective disorder thing?’

‘Oh for God’s sake, Harry,’ she said, snatching her hands back. ‘No, it is not.’

‘Then tell me. Come on. If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?’

Barbara looked up at her husband. She stared into his eyes. ‘You’re right. Who else can I talk to? There isn’t anyone left, is there? It’s just you and me,’ she said, barely above a whisper.

‘Barbara, what’s wrong?’ Harry asked, tilting his head to one side like a dog hoping for a treat. ‘You’ve been distant for a while now. I thought you’d have bucked up over Christmas but…’ He trailed off.

Barbara reached forward and held her husband’s hands. ‘Harry, why don’t we go away?’ she asked, an expectant smile on her face.

‘Away?’

---