The Unravelling by Liz Treacher

Author:Liz Treacher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skelbo Press
Published: 2020-07-08T13:56:21+00:00

The Ringmaster

Ken had two cars: a tiny red Smart car and a new, sleek Mercedes in charcoal grey. Although the Smart car was clearly the more practical for city driving, Ken usually opted for the Mercedes.

‘Fairly clocking up the miles now,’ he commented as he put the key in the ignition, lighting up the supersonic dashboard. A dazzling array of gadgets and gizmos started blinking, like the inside of a spaceship.

‘Five hundred miles already. Amazing.’ Ken started the engine and reversed out of the driveway. Once out in the close, he turned the wheel and headed for the main road, but Ella had failed to do up her seat belt and a pinging sound started.

‘Your belt,’ said Ken.

‘Oh, yes.’ The pinging grew louder. ‘I can’t seem to find the end of it.’ Ella made a show of fumbling around in the door pocket. The pinging became a chime. Ella anticipated the next phase, perhaps a blaring alarm sound, like the ones you got in sci-fi films warning of alien invasions.

‘Belt up!’

‘Keep your hair on.’ Ella smiled to herself and slotted the metal end into the catch. The dreadful noise stopped.

‘So, what’ll you have, cocktail wise?’

‘You’re driving, remember.’

‘One’s alright.’

‘I think I’ll have a soft drink.’

‘Killjoy.’

They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Ken piped up again, ‘What do you think of the car?’

‘Yeah, it’s good. I told you I liked it last time.’

‘I could have had a personalised number plate, but—’

‘Why would you want one of those?’

‘I wouldn’t. I mean, I don’t think they’re as trendy as they used to be.’

‘I’d never want people to recognise me when I’m out driving.’

Ken laughed, ‘You could always go for anon.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You know – A, N, zero, N.’

‘Oh, I see!’ Ella laughed. Even Ken could be funny sometimes.

They lapsed into silence again, then, at the next roundabout, Ken said, ‘I don’t mind driving tonight, but I’d rather you drove tomorrow, so I can have a couple of glasses at the gallery.’

‘Of course,’ said Ella, crossly. Ken had said I don’t mind, as if tonight’s drink had been her idea. And now he was cadging a lift for tomorrow night. But that was typical – Ken was always moving the goalposts. Give him an inch and he took a mile. The guy had serious boundary issues; coming in the patio door was just the start of it.

The bar was nothing special, or at least it was just like all the other bars that were trying to be something special, but it had an optimistic atmosphere that Ella desperately needed and she lapped it up. Ken made a big thing about discussing all the different cocktails with the barman. Ella stood at the bar and let her eyes wander over all the different bottles.

‘Ella, what are you having?’

‘An orange and tonic.’

‘And I’ll have a dirty Martini.’

They took their drinks over to the window looking out onto the main street and sat, side by side, on a hard sofa the same charcoal grey as Ken’s car.

‘He’s a clever one,’ said Ken.

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