Wrong Headed

Feeling like Worzel Gummage wearing his wrong head she sat waiting for the interview to begin. All night she had tossed and turned wishing desperately that she didn’t have to do this, she knew there was no way out.
In this one thing she had always been wrong headed, she realised that now.

She had always thought it had been others seeing evil where none existed.

He had been so easy to love, such fun and not a bit stuffy like his other colleagues.
When he had suggest they eloped she was obviously nervous, but the arguments he had put forward were convincing, she knew her parents would never agree to their seeing each other and there had been so many wonderful times. Even the newspaper stories couldn’t dampen her love for him , as he had said

“What do they know? All they are interested in is a sensational story to sell their papers”

As the years passed, of course his ardour had cooled, but that happened in every marriage didn’t it? She had convinced herself that all those girls he was giving extra tuition to helped pay the bills.

So what if some silly little girl had imagined herself in love with him, it was hardly his fault, he couldn’t be blamed for someone’s thoughts and fantasies could he and then when he had tried to put her right she became angry and told her parents he had touched her inappropriately. That was just sheer spite… Wrong! There she was again, making her excuses, trying to justify… What? Her own stupidity, or his perversions?…

Then, that dreadful night, waking just as the pillow was descending, her just managing to duck under it and ramming her head against his midriff, winding him, grabbing the bedside lamp and bringing it crashing down onto his head. Blood spurting over the white sheets and his limp body twisted on the bed.

The little girl he had spurned had never been the issue, he had someone else he had wanted more. The one he was going to replace her with.