Page 5 of The Winter of Second Chances
Annie gesticulated towards the chair opposite hers and Max sat. He looked tired. Contrite. His blond hair, greying attractively at the temples, was fluffy and uncharacteristically unwaxed. His beard was almost entirely grey with flecks of white at the sides and at the edges of his moustache. She resisted the urge to stick her fork into his forehead – but only just.
‘You froze me out of our bank accounts.’ Annie’s voice was quiet but loaded.
Max looked nervous.
‘Come home and we can work it out,’ he said.
‘What you did cannot beworked out. Not this time. Unlock the accounts; that’s my money too and you have no right to take control of it.’
‘I was frightened. I didn’t know what you might do.’
Annie took a deep breath. The couple at the next table were eating chocolate fudge cake and Annie was filled with an almost overwhelming desire to scoop it up and squidge it in Max’s pleading face.
‘Just unlock the accounts, Max.’
‘I will, I promise. But we need to talk,’ said Max.
‘You had one job,’ said Annie.
Max put his head in his hands. One of his elbows was resting in a splodge of ketchup. She didn’t tell him.
‘What did we agree after the last time?’ said Annie. ‘What did you promise?’
‘I know. I know!’ said Max from behind his hands.
‘Don’t fuck the staff!’ said Annie.
The couple on the table to the left looked over, the woman’s eyes bright with curiosity, but she swiftly returned to her mixed grill when she was met with Annie’s stare.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Max. ‘It was a slip-up. It’ll never happen again. I promise.’
‘You’ve made me look like a fool,’ said Annie. ‘And yourself look like an arsehole.’
‘It didn’t mean anything,’ Max sobbed quietly. ‘She’s nothing!’
‘That’s even worse,’ hissed Annie. ‘That poor girl! For God’s sake, Max, if you’re going to ruin what little was left of our marriage, at least do it for something more than nothing.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ asked Max. ‘Tell me what to do. Anything. I’ll do it.’
‘I want a divorce,’ said Annie.
‘No, Annie. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please,’ said Max.
‘It’s over,’ said Annie. ‘I’m done.’
When her extra nights at the hotel were done, Annie rolled over, pushed her arm out of the duvet, grabbed the hotel phone and called reception.
‘Hello, how can I help you?’ came a female voice.
‘Oh, hello,’ said Annie. ‘This is Mrs Sharpe in room 208. I’d like to book another three nights in this room, please. Just charge it to the card I used for the last two bookings.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said the receptionist. ‘This room is booked for tonight.’
‘This actual room?’
‘Yes.’
‘You have no other spare rooms in this hotel?’
