Off to work

Mary smiled ruefully to herself as as the sound of her husband's voice boomed out,

"Do you know where my suit is? I can't find it in its usual place and I'll be late."

She slipped the clothes brush back into the pocket of her apron.

"I'm just brushing it now dear." Amusement glittered on each syllable.

The sound of embarrassed masculine grumblings bounced around the upper storey before the stairs complained under the onslaught of stockinged feet.

Men! She smiled. Nick claimed to have a 20/20 memory but the reality was so different. How he managed to get all his work done was a wonder in itself, though she supposed in fairness to him that he was a good manager and he certainly delegated work to his staff properly. She knew how stressful it was at this time of year, all those orders to process and everyone wanting their own one dispatched before Christmas as if they were the only clients.

He snuggled behind her and circled her waist, giving her a quick squeeze - Mary was sure he'd put on a bit of weight and Christmas wasn't over yet; there was plenty of time to add to that tummy. She knew he'd over-indulge as usual, mince pies were just too tempting.

"Thanks Mary. I don't know how I'd cope without you."

"Poppycock. You managed perfectly well before we were married and you're just as good at your job now. They won't be putting you out to grass just yet."

His lips squeezed in a tight line, tension darkening crow's feet around his eyes. It was always the same, but she knew he'd get by. He always did. She turned, lifted her head and kissed him, seeing when she opened her eyes his whole face bathed rosy in love-light.

"Away with you now. Go on, off you go." She turned to the kitchen, fussing with something as much to hide an incipient tear at his vulnerability as to encourage him to get dressed and out to work. In due course she heard the door close and his footsteps crunching outside.

She gave him a few minutes, then unable to resist she opened the door and felt the age-old rush of excitement as Nick flicked the reins making the reindeer explode into the night sky, Nick a scarlet blur on the sleigh behind them.

By Penny Dreadful

Best Served Cold

The books always make it seem surreal, I think. I mean really, how often do wronged wives behead the lovers – or cut the brake line of the family car? Honestly. No, in real life that’s not the case. Prison cells would be full of women who had grounds for hysteric actions, lawyers making a fortune and citing moon cycles and hormone studies as defense suits. In real life, revenge has to be something…. subtle. Spiteful, pointed… poking a stick in the eye without anyone else really seeing it; know what I mean?

Not that I ever consider anything I would do would really constitute a vengeful act. I just don’t have the stomach for it.

I’ll just another sip of my tea while I calm a bit more. Really, I must be quite rational here. 10 years of marriage is not to be taken lightly, and I do have to think of my social standing. 10 years with this miserable stinking bastard who thinks its fine to dilly dally with his floozies… but I digress. Sorry. I should be thinking calm thoughts. Yoga was good for that – all that standing on my head and chi and blood flow and stuff. It was just terrible when our yogi slipped down the stairs after class that day – and just steps in front of us all, too! I wasn’t able to run down and help her as fast as the others, even though I was the closest – it must have been that extra 15 pounds she said I was carrying. Slowed me down a bit I guess. I hear the neck brace comes off in a few weeks and they expect she’ll be walking again come November.

There, that’s better. I feel much calmer now – thanks.

You know me, actually. I am the smooth, sleek haired Real Estate agent that everyone waves at on the way through the arcade. Or maybe I am the woman who wears the white jacket and holds the orange flag as she stands in the centre of the road, ensuring the school children cross safely. I am reliable, mildly invisible, and solidly dependable. I smile, I nod, I wave and I know everyone’s name. So while terrible things seem to happen to people around me, I remain untouched. Charmed, some say.

Perhaps so. I just like to think I am nice. Noble, you know.

I would never do anything nasty. Even when Sylvia from work stole my submission for the council application and put it into the manager in her own name. Of course I was peeved, but really, it wasn’t worth getting my knickers in a twist about. Funny, though, how she became so ill with the runs for days afterwards and was not able to attend the interview for the position. Imagine 3 days of stomach cramps out of the blue, just like that! Right about the time the syrup of Ipecac went missing from the first aid supplies too. Certainly made me chuckle! I do hope she liked the lamb stew I sent over to help her recover and gather some nutrients again.

Oh, and then poor Lydia. Remember her? At the Christmas party, too! In her pretty red dress and sparkly earrings, she was the centre of attention, and my, didn’t I make sure that told her how gorgeous she looked in those oh-so-high heels! Why, I even offered to hold her purse and fur coat while she went to the ladies room. Well, it wasn’t really a room, was it? One of those portable toilet rooms they had installed on the green especially for our outdoor party. Of course, when the cubicle tipped over, everyone came rushing to help – and wasn’t I the one who took her home, paid the cab fare and all? Leaving a party through the middle of the fancy white gazebo covered in excrement in front of 200 people is bad enough – paying the cab fare was the least I could do.

I am nice like that.

And of course, there was Jackson. He never did find out who poured milk through the open sunroof of his sport scar while he was on his overseas trip, did he? Mind you, it was helpful to me because I did not have to listen to those damn wheels spinning at 4AM every goddamned day as he sped off to his job at the bakery. Apparently they could not remove the smell at all. Bugger that his insurance had lapsed, he didn’t even notice it never arrived in his mailbox, yet the company says they posted the renewal at the same time they do every year. He does not seem to mind catching the bus too much… and I even offered to feed his cat every afternoon for him. I mean, a 2 hour commute twice a day does make the working day long.

Nice cat, and now I can lock her inside between feeds I don’t even have to worry about those nasty little gifts she would leave on the front mat from time to time. See? Nice person.

But husbands… husbands who cheat. Maybe they do deserve a little taste of their own medicine.

What do you think? After this nice cup of tea is downed, I am thinking I may have to indulge in a little revenge, just this once…

By Penny Dreadful