2007 - The Dead Pool by Prefers to remain anonymous, Sue Walker Page A

and tense, with such volcanic, suppressed depths of anger and pain. And here she was about to face another person with hidden depths of bitterness.
    She could remember the exact moment when she knew it was over, and that she was going to leave Ross. There had been no drama, no histrionics, no affair on either side. Rather, she’d been aware, by slow increments, of a change in him. He’d become more absorbed in his work, desperate to ‘get ahead’ at all costs, morphing into the kind of ruthless careerist she’d always abhorred. He seemed to have less and less time for her and her friends. She’d even resorted to going on holiday with them , leaving him happily slaving away at the office. And then finally, and most importantly, there had been his refusal to consider having children, fobbing her off with the ‘not yet’ excuse.
    Ross had not seen her departure coming. It was a complete bolt from the blue. He’d tried, variously, pleading with her, stalking her, begging her to try again. And then, almost overnight, he’d curdled. After their separation, he’d insisted she stop seeing Jamie. She had little energy to fight Ross’s anger and bitterness. It was time for her to go. Leave Edinburgh, leave the country…
    She began walking again. Forget about all that for now. Just keep calm . As she reached the top of the drive, Ross looked up. He gave a nervous half smile and quickly wrapped up the phone conversation. She watched him jog out of the front room and, moments later, tracked his distorted outline as it approached her behind the frosted glass of the porch door.
    ‘Hi, Kirsty, thanks for making the time. Come away in. Let’s go to the morning room.’
    His smile and demeanour were unusually welcoming. And perhaps too forced. She had tried not to react to his use of ‘Kirsty’. Now was not the time to open old wounds. She nodded her greeting and followed in silence as the familiar sights and smells of a house she’d once thought of as a second home welcomed her back. She’d been anxious that any visit would have her collapsing in tears before she’d crossed the threshold, but she had been wrong. Rather, she felt comfortable, almost happy to be back and slowed her pace to take in the view down the wide hallway, glancing left and right at the few tasteful watercolours—multiple vistas of Edinburgh as seen from the top of Arthur’s Seat and Calton Hill. And then, near the end on the left, Jamie’s pride and joy. The photo gallery, which included several of her, enjoying various summers in the garden with the in-laws and Ross. Although they brought back happy memories, she brushed them aside. It was the last two images that held her gaze. One, captioned Jamie’s first day as Head Warden , showed him uniformed, standing to attention, but smiling. A wide, joyful beam, hiking stick in hand, the weir and Cauldron shimmering in the background. Finally, My Jeannie . A simple shot. Jean, caught unawares, sitting under a sunshade in the back garden, homemade lemonade to hand, her nose in a book. ‘ It’s how I remember her, Kirstin. How I’ll always remember her .’
    ‘Wine? I’ve got some chilled rose.’ Ross had pulled the bottle from its cooler and was waggling her favourite summer tipple in mid-air.
    She was determined to sustain a jolly tone. This was going to be a difficult enough encounter. ‘That’ll be great, thanks.’
    She was aware that they were both on their best behaviour tonight, walking on eggshells, and she was content to play the game a bit longer. She wandered over to one of the huge windows that gave a view over the back garden. Unlike Morag Ramsay’s house, set high up on the hill a mile downstream, Jamie’s was within touching distance of the river. A short, well-trimmed lawn, with some carefully colour-coordinated bedding plants at the sides, led to a gentle slope down to the river. The waters were running slowly tonight. A gentle summer flow. Nearby, Jamie’s black rubber dinghy