The Anniversary
(continued)
When he settled the bill, George announced that the evening wasn't
over yet - he had another little treat in store. Helping her on
with her jacket, he took her outside the Inn and led her towards
the boatyard. His plan was to take her on a little moonlit sail
to round off their anniversary dinner.
When he had rowed them some way across the lake, round to the other
side of a little island, covered in weeping willows, he pushed her
in. With any luck, after the heavy meal and the fact that she was
slightly drunk, and certainly overweight, she would drown quickly
and he could start life anew on his chosen path.
Beryl floundered and gasped and splashed, beating the water with
her arms. Without clothes Beryl, like many plump people, was a strong
swimmer, but tonight the odds were against her. Dopey with alcohol,
a heavy meal, and fairly substantial outdoor clothing, she felt
herself beginning to succumb. However, her survival instinct was
a powerful one and she managed to grab the side of the boat, before
George could manoeuvre it away from her. Because she was wet and
therefore so weighty, as she grasped the side of the boat, it keeled
over - and into the water went George.
Meantime, Beryl recovered from her ordeal. She managed to get herself
to the small island, clinging on to some long grass overhanging
the bank, and she screamed for help. She didn't yet know what had
happened to George.
Whether it was the shock of the cold water, or whether George had
always had an undiscovered heart defect, the coroner couldn't say;
he might have had a heart attack at some stage, anyhow. Personally
he thought these middle aged joggers asked for all they got. But
he conducted the proceedings with decorum and sympathy, respecting
the grieving widow and her terrible shock.
Beryl knew she had been pushed in - but for the sake of her children,
the neighbours and all (not to mention the insurance money) she
decided to say nothing. But her grief for George was considerably
diminished by this knowledge.
Beryl stood on the quayside gazing at the huge liner; little coloured
flags waved in the breeze against an azure sky. Today, she would
realise a dream she had fostered in secret for years... She would
embark on an adventure that previously seemed like a pipe dream.
Thanks to the insurance money, she was going on a world cruise.
A luxury world cruise. None of your silly little boats.
©Margaret
Hunter
2004
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