There
amongst the bills and special offers was an official looking
monogrammed envelope sporting the name Jones Allen, specialists in
criminal and family law.
Reading
the single sheet of A4 paper contained inside, his heart lurched. A
polite letter, addressed to him personally, requesting a meeting at
their chambers, date to be arranged, and accompanied by
representation if he should require. It was a meeting to 'discuss'
the terms of divorce proceedings in relation to Laura
Bridger.
Bridger sat
down heavily in the chair next to the table, he could not breathe
and his chest felt like it had caved in. He tried to re read the
letter to see if he had made a mistake but his eyes wouldn't focus
on the page, the words all blurring into one big mess.
The
album playing in the background had moved onto the track, 'Begin
Again'. He did not like what he was hearing, nothing was going to
begin again, and it would not be a joyous thing. He picked up the
CD player and hurled it across the room, ripping the cord out of
the wall as he did so. The plastic casing smashed against the
plasterboard, the surge in electricity caused a fuse to pop,
leaving the room bathed in grey hue in the early evening light.
He stood
there breathing heavily, eyes on the cupboard above the
bench.
It would
be a place to hide if only for the night, lost in the fugue of the
alcohol's hypocrisy, always promising better things while slowly
making it worse. He knew that he could easily let himself sink back
into the amber liquid world, it would numb the feeling he was
experiencing now, take away all the anger and frustration. It would
be so easy to let the bottle take him again, but who would that
hurt more.
Laura had
given him no real warning, how had it come to this? All she wanted
was space to sort her head out. When had she come to this decision?
They had not even had a chance to talk properly.
Bridger looked
down at his clenched fists and had to force himself to release the
grip on his palms. Uncurling his fingers slightly and letting the
blood run through them he felt himself relaxing slightly. Maybe it
was not the end of the line, they would talk..., and maybe they
could find common ground again... He would pin his hopes on
that.
He stood
in the darkened room letting those thoughts turn over in his mind.
His thoughts flashed back to the day he had seen Laura in the café
with that man, a man he had never seen before, a man he had not
seen since. He could not even recall what he looked like; the face
was always lost in the painful emotions of the memory. He had been
harbouring a fantasy for the past few weeks. He would see them
together, they would be arguing, the man would push her and then he
could march in and sort it out. He would imagine himself venting
the homicidal rage that he felt towards this man. Laura would then
see he had protected her and it would all be all right again.
Things could go back to the way they were. Sometimes it was a
varied version of that, but always with the same outcome. Tonight
he could not see that happening anymore, the fantasy ended
differently.
Bridger's cell phone vibrated silently on the wooden
tabletop, the glowing screen indicating a text message received.
His mind on autopilot he picked it up and read the message. 'Want to meet? J. x' .
Bridger glanced over at the book on the table. 'The true man wants two things: Danger and play.
For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous
plaything' . It was a fitting quote from
the man himself.
Right now he
needed company, if only to stop him from turning to the bottle and
Jane had been playing on his mind since their chance meeting this
afternoon. There is always an excuse for everything.
He typed in a simple reply 'Where?’
Chapter
Seven
Tama had
sensed that Martin was a bit off with him, his reply to the text
sent earlier was short and to the point. He had not been able to
find him either which was strange in itself. Martin did not
normally
amongst the bills and special offers was an official looking
monogrammed envelope sporting the name Jones Allen, specialists in
criminal and family law.
Reading
the single sheet of A4 paper contained inside, his heart lurched. A
polite letter, addressed to him personally, requesting a meeting at
their chambers, date to be arranged, and accompanied by
representation if he should require. It was a meeting to 'discuss'
the terms of divorce proceedings in relation to Laura
Bridger.
Bridger sat
down heavily in the chair next to the table, he could not breathe
and his chest felt like it had caved in. He tried to re read the
letter to see if he had made a mistake but his eyes wouldn't focus
on the page, the words all blurring into one big mess.
The
album playing in the background had moved onto the track, 'Begin
Again'. He did not like what he was hearing, nothing was going to
begin again, and it would not be a joyous thing. He picked up the
CD player and hurled it across the room, ripping the cord out of
the wall as he did so. The plastic casing smashed against the
plasterboard, the surge in electricity caused a fuse to pop,
leaving the room bathed in grey hue in the early evening light.
He stood
there breathing heavily, eyes on the cupboard above the
bench.
It would
be a place to hide if only for the night, lost in the fugue of the
alcohol's hypocrisy, always promising better things while slowly
making it worse. He knew that he could easily let himself sink back
into the amber liquid world, it would numb the feeling he was
experiencing now, take away all the anger and frustration. It would
be so easy to let the bottle take him again, but who would that
hurt more.
Laura had
given him no real warning, how had it come to this? All she wanted
was space to sort her head out. When had she come to this decision?
They had not even had a chance to talk properly.
Bridger looked
down at his clenched fists and had to force himself to release the
grip on his palms. Uncurling his fingers slightly and letting the
blood run through them he felt himself relaxing slightly. Maybe it
was not the end of the line, they would talk..., and maybe they
could find common ground again... He would pin his hopes on
that.
He stood
in the darkened room letting those thoughts turn over in his mind.
His thoughts flashed back to the day he had seen Laura in the café
with that man, a man he had never seen before, a man he had not
seen since. He could not even recall what he looked like; the face
was always lost in the painful emotions of the memory. He had been
harbouring a fantasy for the past few weeks. He would see them
together, they would be arguing, the man would push her and then he
could march in and sort it out. He would imagine himself venting
the homicidal rage that he felt towards this man. Laura would then
see he had protected her and it would all be all right again.
Things could go back to the way they were. Sometimes it was a
varied version of that, but always with the same outcome. Tonight
he could not see that happening anymore, the fantasy ended
differently.
Bridger's cell phone vibrated silently on the wooden
tabletop, the glowing screen indicating a text message received.
His mind on autopilot he picked it up and read the message. 'Want to meet? J. x' .
Bridger glanced over at the book on the table. 'The true man wants two things: Danger and play.
For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous
plaything' . It was a fitting quote from
the man himself.
Right now he
needed company, if only to stop him from turning to the bottle and
Jane had been playing on his mind since their chance meeting this
afternoon. There is always an excuse for everything.
He typed in a simple reply 'Where?’
Chapter
Seven
Tama had
sensed that Martin was a bit off with him, his reply to the text
sent earlier was short and to the point. He had not been able to
find him either which was strange in itself. Martin did not
normally
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