Page 4 of Fundamentals in Flirting

“I…” The niggly little unkind gremlin who lived in my head had thrust herself forwards, reminding me that there was zero likelihood that anyone else would want me, and that it was a miracle someone as good-looking and successful as Jonathan still wanted me. But then the sound of the front door closing at the bottom of the stairs – presumably Daisy hot-footing it out of here – reminded me of the “silly mistake” I had just witnessed. My blood began to boil all over again. A life of spinsterhood was calling.

Someone get me a cat. Or twelve.

“I no longer want you. It’s over.”

Jonathan’s expression darkened, and I knew what was coming, knew where this would likely head. I was familiar with the usual pattern of angry denigration that he spewed when embarrassed or when he felt he had been wronged. I’d seen it from him before, but had often felt that he was justified. I had forever taken his side in all things, blinded to his fuckwittery by my own devotion. But now I needed to ready myself, to be prepared.

Come on ice queen, brace yourself in case of extreme bastardliness. And don’t fucking crumple, whatever you do.

“I would never have gone elsewhere if you’d shown me even an ounce of affection. What did you expect? You’ve essentially forced me into the arms of other women.”

Women? More than one.

What a fool I was.

“Plus, you’re so cold and unresponsive in bed that it’s like having sex with a corpse. If you’d been enough of a girlfriend, this would never have happened.”

“So this is all my fault? Wow.” I slumped back against the door frame. This was a low blow. I’d tried to spice things up in the bedroom more than once, but he was the one who’d decided it was missionary or nothing. I levelled a stony fuck-you glare at him.

“If you tell anyone about this, I can make things very difficult for you in the department. You know that, don’t you?” he carried on, his tone now a touch desperate. “Your academic career will be gone, just like that.” He clicked his fingers theatrically.

What an arsehole.

“You’d have to start all over again and I’d make damn sure every door was shut in your face,” he carried on smugly.

I remained mute. Sadly, I knew he was right. I knew he could gather the old boys around himself and make any chance of success impossible for me. I also knew that he would threaten Daisy in exactly the same way, and she would buckle and keep all this to herself so as not to jeopardise her own fledgling career.

“But we can turn this around. I can forgive you for not being affectionate, you can work on it – have some sex therapy or something – and we can move on,” he said, his voice taking on a persuasive lilt. He smiled and patted the duvet next to him, his expression deceptive and slippery. “Come on, Hannah. Think about your future. You know I’m the only one who can help you be truly successful in the veterinary field.”

Screw this.

With a saccharine smile, I walked over to the bed, watching his face sag with relief, believing that his threats and posturing had weakened my resolve; that he had got his own way. As he usually did. Leaning down so that our faces were level, I surreptitiously reached out and grasped the full pint glass of water that he always had on the bedside table but never drank.

“Do you know what, Jonathan? You’re absolutely right. Iamthinking very carefully about my future, and I’ve recently decided that my life needs to take on an entirely new trajectory. One that is a fucking million miles away from you.”

And I poured the whole glass over his head, and stalked out of the room.

ChapterThree

The steady beat of Pluto’s hooves on the compacted earth was like a drum, a hypnotic rhythm as we cantered along through the dappled sunlight illuminating the woodland, my mind free of everything but the breeze on my face and the evocative floral scent of wildflowers in early summer. This was me-time, time to be free of the pressures of work, time to be present, in the moment, enjoying all that was offered in this gloriously beautiful part of England, my worries melting away. Escaping the hold Jonathan had had on me was the best thing I’d ever done. My life had settled into a new normal, my resolve hardening to my forced spinsterhood, even if embracing the dramatic U-turn in my career aspirations had been a tougher pill to swallow. But it had definitely been a relief to come home and release myself from the shitstorm that had been the last few months.

I let out a contented sigh and patted Pluto’s neck gratefully.

“Good boy, steady now.” I applied a touch of pressure on the rein, sitting up a little in the saddle to encourage him to slow as we turned the corner of the bridleway we were following. It was wonderful and peaceful and cathartic.

But then, just like that, all hell broke loose.

Pluto screeched to a halt and swerved violently to the right as a mountain biker came careering off the bank straight towards us, accompanied by a string of expletives. And before I knew what was happening, I was sailing through the air like a missile, heading for certain destruction into the ditch in front of me. A loud bang, like a gunshot, resounded as my inflatable body protector went off, and Pluto and I parted company to the dramatic sounds of someone groaning (me), and someone else continuing to swear (the bike-riding bringer of doom, I assumed).

Eyes screwed tightly shut, my body encased in the suffocating vice of my fully inflated air jacket, I lay still for a moment, surrounded by wild garlic and lightly perfumed flowers. My backside, meanwhile, simultaneously squelched into a soft bit of ground, mud oozing right through to my underwear.

Lovely.

“Shit, are you ok? I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

How anyone could miss a five hundred kilogram, predominantly white animal travelling at about twenty-five miles an hour was beyond me, but, you know, a lot of people were really unobservant. Like this dickhead, clearly.

“Is my horse ok?” I whispered, my body contorted and partially hidden by the undergrowth, and from my depressed position in the ditch I could see very little other than the tree canopy above. I squeezed my eyes shut again.

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