DIANA

By Janet Baldey

Diana drove through the twilit lanes towards her home.  Humming softly, she pressed the accelerator and felt a familiar thrill as her Lamborghini responded instantly.  She loved speed, it spelled power and when she was behind the wheel she felt invincible.  She increased the pressure until the darkening landscape was just a blur and, with the wind storming through her hair, in no time at all she’d reached her driveway.  Gravel crunching underneath her tyres, she drove on until her home appeared in the distance.  As she deftly brought the sleek machine to rest outside the front entrance, she took a quick glance at her Rolex and saw with satisfaction that she’d knocked ten minutes off her record.   She stretched, relaxing back in her seat after the long drive, taking a moment to appreciate the graceful lines of the old manor house.   An acquaintance had once wondered if she realised how lucky she was and had described the house as ‘drowning in ivy’   Diana’s lips curled; a ridiculous statement from a ridiculous person.   Her family had worked hard for this and it was her inheritance.  Even though she’d rarely seen them, it showed they’d loved her.  In a way, she’d paid for it with her lost childhood and when they went they’d made amends by leaving her enough money to buy anything she wanted, fine cars, exotic holidays, maybe even, perhaps, the husband she adored.  Not that David didn’t love her, of course he did.  After all his infatuation with that silly girl hadn’t lasted long.  She shuddered remembering the awful scene when she’d confronted him.  The sparks had really flown that evening and no mistake but it had all ended happily.  It was when she mentioned changing her will that his attitude changed.  He’d gone a sickly yellow under his tan and had positively grovelled his remorse.  Since then, he’d been so sweet. Flowers, perfume, a foxy new coat.  She looked over her shoulder to the back seat where its fur was reflecting the glow of the setting sun.  

But she couldn’t lie to herself, she’d been relieved at their reconciliation.  When they’d got married, all her friends had envied her having such a tall and handsome husband while, frankly, most of theirs looked like toads.  It would have been so demeaning if they’d found out there was a crack in her marriage maybe even, God forbid, a divorce.  Not to mention her pals at the golf club, it would have been doubly awful if they’d been given that juicy bone to gnaw.  She shuddered again, thinking of Monica, with her aristocratic nose and foghorn mouth.  How her little piggy eyes would have shone as she picked over the remains of Diana’s marriage in full voice.  She sighed, never mind, that was all in the past. She and David were even closer now. 

         She opened the door of the car and with fluid movements began to swing her legs outside, then she stopped and a frown marred the perfection of her forehead.  The house was in complete darkness, with not even a glimmer of a light to be seen.  David should be home by now, surely he wasn’t still at work.  Really, men were so inconsiderate, after being away for a week, he should be waiting for her with a chilled martini ready mixed. Her lips tightened thinking she might have to insist he gave up his potty little job, if this continued.  After all, it wasn’t as if they needed his money.  Her scarlet fingernails tapped on the steering wheel in time with the tic of the cooling engine.  Suddenly a thought flashed into her mind and for an instant she thought the unthinkable.  God forbit that it was happening again; quickly she wiped that idea from her mind.

         She let herself into the cool darkness of the hall and made straight for the bar.  She needed a stiff drink to calm down.  Carrying the glass in one hand, she kicked off her shoes put her drink on a side table and curled up in her favourite armchair.  Suddenly, she raised her head and sniffed, she could smell something, something familiar that nagged at the back of her mind, something that shouldn’t be there but which she couldn’t put a name to.  She sighed and closed her eyes, she was too tired to think, whatever it was could wait. After a few moments she felt herself drifting away.

         The thunderous sound of the God of War jolted her awake and abruptly both her eyes and her mouth flew open.  Her heart was thudding in tune with drums and after a few seconds it dawned on her that the mobile in her chest pocket was clamouring to be answered.  Still muzzy with sleep she groped for it, held it to her ear and heard David’s dark chocolate voice filling the silence.

         “Hi darling, it’s me.  Welcome back.  Sorry I’m late but I was held up at work.  Look, I’m a bit stuck.  I’m at the station and there’s a queue a mile long for the taxi.  Sorry to ask, but would you be a perfect love and pop down to pick me up?”

         She was almost out of the front door but stopped abruptly when she realised.  That smell, it was perfume but not hers.  Although adulterated by sweat and, she closed her eyes and swallowed, may be even sex, still she was sure she could put a name to it.  Anais Anais, a brand that she’d rather die than wear.  For a moment the world wore a grey mist and she sagged, clutching at the doorframe.  “Come on Diana,” she whispered, “you’re stronger than this.”  Dragging herself upright, her lips thinned to a steel line and she ran to her car, jumped in and roared away gravel spurting from beneath her wheels.

         The second she’d gone, a dark shape stepped out of the shadows and stood watching as the red eyes of her taillights disappeared.  She’d be driving too fast, she always did and the route to the station took in a steep hill with a hairpin bend at the bottom.  David’s lips twisted into the semblance of a smile, it had only taken him a few minutes to do what was necessary.  Ridiculously easy really.  He wiped the oil from his hands and entered the house where he lit a cigarette and settled down to wait. 

Copyright Janet Baldey