about an hour, and not without resentment, she’d sourced all the information she could get on travelling to Kursk. A meeting with Katherine Danilovova should be arranged. Later, she decided to run a bath. There was nothing she enjoyed more than a prolonged soak in hot water. It would give her some space to think about what she was going to do about their relationship.
The tub was full before she emptied in several capfuls of expensive bath foam. After lighting scented candles, she stripped off her clothes, dropping them on the floor and switching off the lights. She tuned in to Classic FM, her favourite music station, before swishing the water about to make foam, and dipping in her big toe.
Perfection.
Sinking backwards into the water, she emitted a long sigh. On the tiled bath ledge stood a cold glass of Sauvignon Blanc. She reached out for it. The room swam in the delicate aroma of soft cinnamon.
Bliss.
Three things niggled away at her. The call Jack had received from Moss, deciding when and if she could break up with him, and if she really wanted to.
She ran through a series of possibilities. Either break up with him completely, refuse to do what he asked and letting him find alternatives, or join him without reservations. There was no halfway house. She dismissed total immersion, as that would reduce her to an existence that would not be her own. If they remained together, he would have to find his own way around in life and he would also need to enjoy some of her pursuits. If not, then their existence together was doomed. She had enjoyed much of their relationship, but now he had become a heavy piece of baggage.
The water began to cool.
Pulling out the plug to drain a few inches of water, she topped it up again with more hot water. The candles gave an unexpected flicker as a gust of cold air blew in, caused by a door moving open.
“Jack, is that you? You didn’t take long. I thought you said you were going for a drink?” She lifted her head as she heard a scuffling sound move across the tiled floor. There was no reply. “Jack, are you playing silly games again? You know I don’t like it.” She became aware of the door now being fully opened. She sat up and turned around.
In the half-light stood a figure, all in black, wearing a balaclava, standing motionless by the door. She let out a terrified scream. The figure paused, nodded, turned around, then quickly disappeared like a dark bat from hell.
She scrambled out of her bath. Grabbing a towel, she flung it around herself and rushed to the door. She kicked it shut, and quickly slid the double bolts, turning the key with a savage snap.
“My God, my God, I wasn’t imagining it!” she shouted aloud, leaning heavily on the door with her head pressed hard against it. Her breath came in racking gasps, causing her whole body to shake uncontrollably. “Oh fuck, who was that? Where’s my mobile?” She scrambled around on the floor, but realised she’d left it outside in the other room. She pressed her ear to the door and from the passageway behind, she heard another door hurriedly slam. The radio was still playing and turned it off. She tried listening to every sound, but it was as quiet as a tomb. She peered through the keyhole… nothing
Waiting five minutes more, she slid back the bolts with trepidation, turning the key until she heard the lock disengage. She inched the door open, wide enough for her to step out and also rush back in again if she had to. Tiptoeing across the landing, she left a trail of tacky footprints along the polished wooden floor. But there was nobody to be seen or heard.
Whoever it was had vanished… as if they’d never been there. She knew she hadn’t imagined what she’d seen. That was confirmed when she switched on the lights in the lounge area. One look and she could see the place had been expertly ransacked. It was the same in each room. Drawers, cupboards, beds and sofas were in disarray – emptied, moved or
The tub was full before she emptied in several capfuls of expensive bath foam. After lighting scented candles, she stripped off her clothes, dropping them on the floor and switching off the lights. She tuned in to Classic FM, her favourite music station, before swishing the water about to make foam, and dipping in her big toe.
Perfection.
Sinking backwards into the water, she emitted a long sigh. On the tiled bath ledge stood a cold glass of Sauvignon Blanc. She reached out for it. The room swam in the delicate aroma of soft cinnamon.
Bliss.
Three things niggled away at her. The call Jack had received from Moss, deciding when and if she could break up with him, and if she really wanted to.
She ran through a series of possibilities. Either break up with him completely, refuse to do what he asked and letting him find alternatives, or join him without reservations. There was no halfway house. She dismissed total immersion, as that would reduce her to an existence that would not be her own. If they remained together, he would have to find his own way around in life and he would also need to enjoy some of her pursuits. If not, then their existence together was doomed. She had enjoyed much of their relationship, but now he had become a heavy piece of baggage.
The water began to cool.
Pulling out the plug to drain a few inches of water, she topped it up again with more hot water. The candles gave an unexpected flicker as a gust of cold air blew in, caused by a door moving open.
“Jack, is that you? You didn’t take long. I thought you said you were going for a drink?” She lifted her head as she heard a scuffling sound move across the tiled floor. There was no reply. “Jack, are you playing silly games again? You know I don’t like it.” She became aware of the door now being fully opened. She sat up and turned around.
In the half-light stood a figure, all in black, wearing a balaclava, standing motionless by the door. She let out a terrified scream. The figure paused, nodded, turned around, then quickly disappeared like a dark bat from hell.
She scrambled out of her bath. Grabbing a towel, she flung it around herself and rushed to the door. She kicked it shut, and quickly slid the double bolts, turning the key with a savage snap.
“My God, my God, I wasn’t imagining it!” she shouted aloud, leaning heavily on the door with her head pressed hard against it. Her breath came in racking gasps, causing her whole body to shake uncontrollably. “Oh fuck, who was that? Where’s my mobile?” She scrambled around on the floor, but realised she’d left it outside in the other room. She pressed her ear to the door and from the passageway behind, she heard another door hurriedly slam. The radio was still playing and turned it off. She tried listening to every sound, but it was as quiet as a tomb. She peered through the keyhole… nothing
Waiting five minutes more, she slid back the bolts with trepidation, turning the key until she heard the lock disengage. She inched the door open, wide enough for her to step out and also rush back in again if she had to. Tiptoeing across the landing, she left a trail of tacky footprints along the polished wooden floor. But there was nobody to be seen or heard.
Whoever it was had vanished… as if they’d never been there. She knew she hadn’t imagined what she’d seen. That was confirmed when she switched on the lights in the lounge area. One look and she could see the place had been expertly ransacked. It was the same in each room. Drawers, cupboards, beds and sofas were in disarray – emptied, moved or
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