Hug

Chapter 3

Grace sat on her bed, the duvet covering her legs, her tablet on her lap. The cat sleeping soundly on her shins was starting to make them ache, so she gently raised her right leg so that he rolled off in slow motion, on to his back at the side of the bed. Without opening his eyes, he stayed in this position, paws in the air, purring loudly.

Chapter 2......Ok, Carl was too much of a gentleman to force the pace, so that date can end there, she thought. She felt a little pressurised by SurferGirl60's comment about not being able to wait for the next instalment. She just couldn't think of anything that she hadn't covered before. Perhaps it would help to dream rather than write. She would treat herself tonight. She put her tablet on the floor and lay down in the bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. She shut her eyes and waited for images to pop into her head.

God, there was something about this story that just didn't...inspire her. Nothing was coming to mind. Perhaps I'm trying too hard, she thought to herself. She yawned - her eyes were sore from looking at her tablet for so long. Sleep, she thought...I'll try again tomorrow. SurferGirl will just have to wait.

The next morning she had work. Since she and Steve split up, she worked part time in the reception of a solicitor's office. She didn't need to work - proceeds of the sale of their house, once shared equally between the two of them, afforded a nice little flat for her, and her mother had left her some money in her will. But she liked her little job, liked the people she worked with. And it got her out of the flat, forcing her into the real world for a few hours.

Steve was now cosily embroiled in another relationship, well, the relationship that had blossomed between him and his temporary secretary a year or so back. Grace held no bitterness towards him. She was relieved when he suggested they split up, because it meant she didn't have to pretend any more. They'd been together for 30 years, with two grown up children, so hadn't done too badly. They just got bored with one another, and couldn't be bothered to do anything about it.

The next day was sunny, so Grace decided to spend her lunchtime on the seafront. The early spring sunshine had brought everybody out, and the promenade was busy. Grace sat down on a bench, ate her sandwich, and watched the world . There was a brisk wind coming off the sea, and Grace stood the collar of her coat up around her neck. The sunlight on the water was dazzling, and she screwed up her eyes to protect them. She wished she'd brought her sunglasses.

She sensed movement next to her on the bench, turning her head slightly to acknowledge the presence of another. After staring at the sun on the water for so long she was having a job focusing.

"Beautiful day," a man's voice said. Grace nodded. "Mmm," she murmured.

She didn't feel like talking, so she was hoping that her lack of response would be noted by him, but he carried on.

"Don't get many days like this, this time of year,"

Oh God, she thought, he wants to chat. I really don't need this. As well as her sunglasses she now wished she had brought a newspaper to hide behind.

"No, indeed." she answered with a slight edge to her voice; a signal to her companion, she was hoping, that she wasn't interested in passing the time of day or anything else, for that matter.

However, it was evident he had other plans, for she sensed him turn sideways on the bench, facing her.

What's the matter with him? she thought, her irritation rising. Can't he take a hint? She glanced at him, arranging a bored, disinterested expression on her face.

It was Carl Wilson.

He was looking at her with a quizzical expression, frowning slightly, as if trying to remember her name. She looked away rapidly, convinced that she had finally gone stark staring mad. Her heart was beating out of her chest with the shock and she felt her face flushing.

She stood up abruptly and walked away quickly. She didn't look back, for fear that he would still be sitting there- or not sitting there, she didn't know which would be worse.

She walked blindly along the promenade for 5 minutes until her heart stopped hammering and her breathing returned to normal. She turned round slowly, and walked back the way she came, starting to examine in her head just what had just happened.

Obviously she'd overreacted -It was just someone who looked a lot like him. And she has been so taken up with him at the moment that she had frightened herself. She started to feel a little silly, scurrying away like that.

She reached the bench where she had been sitting. Empty. She felt a little disappointed- now she'd calmed down she would have liked another look at him, just to see if the resemblance was really as close as she'd thought.

Anyway, she was going to be late back to the office at this rate, so she quickened her pace. She thought about the encounter that afternoon, whilst filing on automatic pilot. Perhaps she'd dreamt him, she considered. But, that can't be right- she was always aware of dreaming, inventing the plot as she went along. And she hadn't seen that coming.

Perhaps he had been some kind of vision - perhaps there was something seriously wrong with her. What, apart from regularly living in a dream world? she asked herself.

She went home that evening and decided to attempt Chapter 2. But, still no ideas were forthcoming. All she could see, when she closed her eyes, was Carl's face studying hers this afternoon. He must have been in his late forties, with the familiar grey streaks in his beard. The blue/grey eyes had observed hers steadily, his expression serene. It had been like looking at one of her favourite photos of him.

She relaxed, and tried to let the story tell itself in her head. Her eyes felt heavy.