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Well. Half of Dublin - my half, annoyingly - is under water, owing to our nearest river bursting its banks, but luckily I eventuall managed to get home safe and sound.

Sound enough to write....


Lila Fowler’s already enormous eyes widened still further at her husband’s defiant words.

“Winston! What is the meaning of this insolence?” she cried, her voice a hideous shriek. “Come with me at once!”

And the heiress stamped a Jimmy Choo-clad foot.

Winston quailed before this tantrum, well aware that his horrible wife was only warming up. The worst was yet to come. But he stood firm. The worm had turned, and he wasn’t turning back.

“No, Lila, I won’t,” he said quietly, his voice nevertheless full of determination. “You can’t boss me around anymore.”

All eyes turned to Lila. For a moment she was silence. Then she spoke, and when she did so her voice was ominously soft.

“Oh, okay, Winston,” she said gently. “I’m sorry. I’ve been too hard on you. I expected you to leave a party with your wife and not stay flirting with some townie bitch you used you go out with ten years ago.” Now Lila’s voice was rising. “I expected you to keep your marriage vows! To love, honour – and obey!”

Lila’s high-pitched, icy tones struck terror into the partygoers’ hearts. Somewhere in the back of the room, a girl started crying.

The Fowler heiress strode towards her spouse, her spindly legs moving swiftly. She reached out a diamond-encrusted hand, and grabbed Winston’s collar. With one fluid movement, she held her struggling husband up in the air.

“Do not defy me!” she bellowed. And then she laughed.

It was a laugh from hell’s lowest depths. The room stared at the horrible scene, wanting to help Winston, but finding themselves unable to move. Finally, Elizabeth Wakefield found her voice.

“Lila, let him –“

“Silence!” shrieked Lila, turning her grotesque features towards her best friend’s sister.

Just then the struggling Winston managed to free himself, and dropped gasping to the floor. He lay there for a second, catching his breath, and Lila’s attention returned to her husband.

“Now,” she said triumphantly. “Are you ready to go home?”

Winston turned to her, and slowly rose to his feet.

“Never!” he gasped. “Never! Do you hear me Lila? I’m not putting up with your crap anymore!”

It was if an evil spell had been lifted. A murmur of agreement ran around the room, and then Elizabeth Wakefield began to clap heartily. The rest of the room joined in, and soon the rafters rang with their cheers of support.

Lila looked around, stunned. No one had ever resisted her manic rages before. But she knew, with the instinct of a predatory beast, that she had lost this battle. With one last inarticulate cry of thwarted rage, she feld to her car, which sped off into the night.

Back in the Wakefield sitting room, Winston stood dazed. Had he finally done it? Had he finally defied Lila?

Had he finally…left her?

He thought he had.

Then he felt Maria’s loving arms reach around him, and he heard her tender voice in his ear.

“Oh Winston,” she said, turning him to face her glowing smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Maria,” he said. “I think I always did.”

“Oh Winston, I…” Maria began, but her words were lost in a sweet and tender kiss.

*********************************

Jessica Wakefield didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, she had truly thrown a party to remember! No one would ever forget the dramatic scene which had just taken place in the sitting room of the split level ranch house. On the other hand, her best friend had just gone crazy and then been dumped by her husband. In some part of Jessica’s icy heart, she knew she should feel bad for her friend.

But she just couldn’t. The party was buzzing!

Smiling broadly, Jessica danced out through the sitting room, meeting and greeting old friends. Her eye was caught by a dashing figure standing by the sterero. His classy cotton shirt, the pastel sweater flung carelessly over his shoulders, the perfectly pressed chinos, the slightly bouffant dark hair – they all spelled “SEXY” to Jessica Wakefield.

She didn’t recognise this mystery hunk, but she decided it was time she got to know him better. Shaking her hips, she strutted across the room on her sky high heels. No one walked more sexily than Jessica Wakefield. She reached the mystery hunk and stretched out a hand to tap his shoulder.

“Hello,” she said, in her huskiest voice. “Have we met?”

The hunk turned around, revealing an all too familiar visage.

It was Bruce Patman.

Jessica recoiled.

Bruce had once been the object of Jessica’s passion. She had pursued her quarry ruthlessly, treading on other people’s feelings – especially Winston’s – in the process. But after a tempestuous romance, Jessica had realised that Bruce wanted a girlfriend who acted like a willing slave.

And Jessica Wakefield was no man’s slave.

But she realised now that the sexual chemistry between them was still there. She wondered whether the change wrought in Bruce by his relationship with Regina Morrow had left any permanent marks on his tough heart.

“We know each other, Jess,” said Bruce with an easy laugh. “Although we never knew each other as well as I, for one, would have liked.”

Jessica paused for a second. She knew that whatever she said now could have a big effect on her life – at least for one night.

“Maybe it’s time we got to know each other all over again, Bruce baby,” she breathed.

Bruce smiled.

“Oh Jess. I could never resist you.” He took his car keys from his pocket. “And I remember the way to Miller’s Point….”

To Be Continued….

Comments

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
angiv
Nov. 15th, 2002 12:03 pm (UTC)
The worm had turned, and he wasn’t turning back.

Snerk.

The Fowler heiress strode towards her spouse, her spindly legs moving swiftly. She reached out a diamond-encrusted hand, and grabbed Winston’s collar. With one fluid movement, she held her struggling husband up in the air.

Bwah!

His classy cotton shirt, the pastel sweater flung carelessly over his shoulders, the perfectly pressed chinos, the slightly bouffant dark hair – they all spelled “SEXY” to Jessica Wakefield.

Eww!

Fantastic.
starfishchick
Nov. 15th, 2002 12:11 pm (UTC)
Fantastic is right. I don't know what I'll do for sheer snorting-water-out-my-nose-in-laughter value if you ever stop writing this.
biascut
Nov. 15th, 2002 12:15 pm (UTC)
I know! I keep counting the days until the end of November and feeling sad.
stellanova
Nov. 15th, 2002 12:35 pm (UTC)
Well, I can guarantee that I will not make my 50,000 words by the end of November, so it certainly won't end then.

And the thing is, I do enjoy writing it so much (I keep thinking it's both smug and sad of me to laugh out loud while I write it, but I actually do; please forgive me), I have a feeling it might run and run and run...
starfishchick
Nov. 15th, 2002 12:42 pm (UTC)
Yeah!

And there was much rejoicing.
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )

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