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Reality Check
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Reality Check

The chatter subsides and a cacophony of brass hits the speakers. As the lights dim, two thousand attendees feel the hair on the back of their necks prickle. For many, more visceral senses tighten too.

The employee conference is the most heavily anticipated event of the year. Tickets are allocated on some random algorithm and are regarded as gold to the fortunate recipients. Unless you are C-suite royalty, you only ever get to go to one of these gigs.

And now it is about to begin.

All forms of digital communication have been confiscated at the door, using screening technology akin to the most sensitive of airport security. And they had gone through it twice.

Out of the pure darkness, a blistering light hits the stage. Huge gold gates as large as the room freeze shut for a few seconds—until they ease open and as if to give their size some context, a figure tiny in comparison emerges, all in black.

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Margarita Mix

As we near the ground, the terrain speeds up, flashing over the occasional villa with a glittering blue pool alternating with agricultural land parched dry in the baking heat. I smooth my comfortable travelling trousers as I ready to leave the plane, usually slick at this small airport, though passport control can have its own ideas.

I’ve landed in so many places that I zone out and take my time as the process of arrival unfolds. Only worry about what you can control has become my mantra over recent years, so I am rarely frustrated or annoyed when there is nothing I can do to change things. I take care that I am seldom in that situation where it really matters.

I think back to why I’m here.

-~-

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Madame Mère

“Look. There it is. Right ahead of us.”

She is jumping up and down as she stares at what looks to me to be yet another random old building. The heavy heat of summer is already stifling, and I can feel the sweat running down my back as I take another draught from my water bottle.

“See. The green balcony that hangs out from the first floor?” She points way out over the people, traffic and general bustle of the vast piazza.

I peer over and make out a yellow-brick block, far away in the distance. The balcony sticks out incongruously and—as far as I can make out—uniquely, right around the angle of the building.

“Ah. OK. I see it now. What’s so special about it?”

“It’s not what’s so much special about ‘it’, but more about who.” She leaves this lingering in the air, and she is gone, me scurrying behind, trying to keep up.

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Lockout

Adele knew the exact moment she noticed something was off. There may have been other occasions secreted in her subconscious that made her more sensitised to it, but this particular occasion was the one she recalled.

It was a Thursday, when he arrived back from Pisa. One of what he described as ‘bloody’ business trips.

His return seemed normal and yet there was something that didn’t quite fit. At the time, it was more of an instinct; an inkling somewhere deep down inside her that gave her a feeling all was not right.

It was only later that night and after they made love, she realised what it was. Jack smelt differently. He’d bought new aftershave and although he was one of those men who had a glass shelf full of potions, it was one she did not know. She looked in his bathroom the next morning after he’d gone to the office. Expensive. Foreign. New.

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Alicia Best’s Third Book, ‘New Page’ is Published

Just to let you know that my friend Alicia Best has now had her third book published on Amazon.

It’s part of the Shady Piers Romance series and continues in the vein of sweet, clean, happy ever after romance set in a seaside town in Maine, USA.

There’s always one for sale at 99c and all are free on Kindle Unlimited. I like them – they’re a good, fun, quick read!

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Two Rights

The coins jangle in her pocket as she tip-toes along the stinking streets. The drains gave up long ago, so negotiating an acceptable path is not easy. Apart from the odd whimper, the child is silent as she tries to keep up. After the months of unspeakable chaos following the army’s entry into the city, the children became more durable.

There are crowds along the way this morning, though few seek the same destination as these two as they make their way to their particular market.

She has saved from her meagre income for weeks. A penny here; a shilling there, forming a target for her to aim at this day, to overlay the everyday goal of survival. It gave her a focus amid the desolation. Moments of hope in her monotonous and fearful days amongst the hunger and sickness and the air-raids.

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Blood Bank

As I left the donor centre, annoyance rose inside me. So many people had told me that a white car was not going to work and how I’d argued. But here I was, spitting on a clean handkerchief and wiping another mark off the door panel. As I stood, I sawthe something under my windshield wiper. A shiny white card, with writing on it.

Like all bits of advertising that get stuck on my car in car parks, my first instinct was to throw it away. For some reason this time I didn’t, but placed it on the passenger seat.

As I would find out later, it was one of those decisions where your life shifts in an instant.

 

 

Thank you for giving blood today.
As a regular donor,
we want to specially honour you.
Come along here at 10 tonight,
and go to the first floor

I’d always been very proud that I committed to donating, so this was wonderful. I would be recognised for my contributions at last. I had no doubts that I would be there.

Over the rest of my day, I forgot about the date I had that evening. Work was busy and it was not until I packed my bag and saw the card that I thought about it again.

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