Sharon Kendrick - Potent As Poison

She felt suddenly, inexplicably guilty. ‘I bet you really miss never having had a real father?’ she probed.

‘I had John—I can kind of remember him. I know he wasn’t my real Dad but—he was great.’

Elizabeth remembered her ex-husband with the same affection. ‘Yes, he was great. But never having known your real father——’

‘You were always enough for me, Ma.’ And then, obviously embarrassed by such a slushy admission, he scowled. ‘When’s supper going to be ready? I’m starving .’

‘Coming right up,’ she said brightly, sliding a fluffy omelette on to the plate and pushing the wooden bowl of dressed salad into the centre of the table, while they both sat down.

Nothing’s going to happen, she told herself. Nothing. In a few months he’ll be gone, and that will be that.

But she lay awake all night long, her face set with tension, blinking unseeingly at the moon-shadows on the ceiling, her mind fraught with images of Rick.

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