Weekend break

tab looked down at the plate...there was a shrivelled bacon rasher,
next to the pool of greasy yellow oil where a shiny egg and blackened
sausage lay helpless. the piece was garnished by two halves of a
grilled tomato, the wrinkly skin loosely holding the lukewarm juice and
jelly-covered pips. um...i ordered the vegetarian breakfast she
mumbled. the waiter, a sixteen-year-old who unwillingly got up at half
six every morning to earn some cash at the b and b scowled. he
disappeared into the kitchen and you could hear the blare of local
radio as the door swung on its hinges...skulking back, he deposited a
plate in front of her and left before he could give her any more
unwanted hassles. her breakfast now consisted of the aforementioned egg
and tomato, now lonely except for the grease trails where the boy had
slipped the meat onto someone else's plate. i think i'll just have
toast, she said, reaching for the cold, pale slices in the toast rack.
chris looked up briefly; his mouth, bulgingly full of food, was lifted
up dutifully into a sympathetic smile. weeb ca geb sumfig om na seafrun
he offered and tab watched fragments of his meal spray the
table and surrounding carpet. she sighed. what was she doing
here?

three weeks earlier. chris was sitting with his hand on the telephone
receiver that he'd just replaced. it was done...he had booked the room
for their weekend in cornwall. it would be three days after their
four-years-of-going-out anniversary, perfect. there was only one thing
left to do...

they had arrived at the b and b late on the friday night. mrs.
carrigan, a sour faced woman, had grudgingly tramped up the stairs to
show them their room...breakfast's seven-thirty to eight-thirty. thems
as late dun't get none she uttered disapprovingly before she left. tab
looked at chris: ...twin beds?
his soft blue-grey eyes gazed at her apologetically. it's their policy;
only married couples can have rooms with doubles, he pleaded... didn't
you try anywhere else?... ...honestly, this was all I could get,
y'know, it's the beginning of the tourist season isn't it?...he could
sense the blame in her voice and it crushed him. tab sat down on the
bed miserably. look, what is it tab? I know it's not perfect but hey,
it's you and me isn't it? we're going to have the best weekend! ...oh,
I know...she said, looking up into his pleading face. she couldn't help
but smile and he reached down to hug her, relieved. I love you gorgeous
he murmured and she relaxed in his arms. oh, I know...you too, hon she
said, releasing her resistance. i'm sorry i'm so down, i'm just really
tired and i've got nightmare p.m.t....he made sympathetic noises and
stroked her head. well, i'll run you a hot bath then, if you want...she
could have purred in appreciation and felt guilty for being so moody
with him all evening. he was the sweetest bloke, and he loved her so
much; everyone said how lucky she was. how could she be so
ungrateful?

the bath water ran cold. chris promised to sort it out with mrs.
carrigan the next morning and went into the bedroom while tab made do
with a wash. we'll push the beds together shall we? he asked. yeah,
good idea came the reply. he sat down on one of the beds and looked at
their rucksacks, left dumped by the wardrobe...they'd bought them the
previous summer, when they had travelled europe...things had changed a
lot since then, tab had had a year at university in durham while chris
had stayed in basingstoke, deputy manager of the hi fi store he had
worked in since he had left school...but then, a lot of things had
stayed the same he thought, hearing tab's soft humming from the
bathroom. he gazed at the bulging left pocket of his rucksack. yes, it
was definitely the right time...
when tab re-entered the bedroom, however, she found chris' snoring body
on one of the beds, having slipped into sleep before he'd had the
chance to move the twins together...he looked like a little boy,
despite being two years older than her. she sighed, and got into the
other bed, disappointed at spending another night alone.

after breakfast on Saturday, tab and chris walked down into falmouth.
it truly was a beautiful place thought tab, ignoring her gurglingly
hungry stomach and period pains, and concentrating instead on the
narrow cobbled streets and marinas, filled with the flapping sails of
hundreds of boats. she held chris' hand and for a while, everything was
just as it used to be. they stopped at a pub for lunch, and, oblivious
to the way they were obvious tourists, felt completely at home over
their pints and ploughmans. then it began to rain.
I suppose we'd better head back to the room, if it's going to be like
this, suggested tab. oh...um...we can't, chris replied. ...why not?
...er, it's another one of the old bat's rules, we're not allowed to be
in between ten and four...I suppose it's when she does the cleaning or
something... he winced as he saw her face cloud over again. there's
bound to be something else for us to do though he said, as he struggled
to think of alternative plans. his eyes fell upon a rack of tourist
leaflets. look, there's got to be something in there....five minutes
later. so it's basically between pixie world and the museum of fishing
then? tab muttered through pursed lips. oh god...well...i suppose we'll
have to stay here then...he looked at his watch. it's only two and a
half hours...

tab declined the offer to join chris on the pub quiz machine. she let
him go though, she needed some time to sort her head out...as she
sipped another bacardi and coke she trawled over the last twelve
months. going to durham had been a really exciting experience for her;
getting back to education after her year out, meeting new people,
experiencing different things. basingstoke just wasn't the same...while
she had been working there, with all her friends off at university she
had realised how dull it was there, really...and although europe had
been wonderful, it had just been her and chris, doing the same things,
but in different locations...she stopped herself. was that really true?
or was how she was feeling right then distorting her memories? she did
love him...probably...it was just that she'd been so bored since she'd
been back for the summer. chris had been lovely in the last year, and
had come to see her whenever he could, but she was a different person
now...she felt a funny feeling in her stomach as she realised that she
no longer needed him.

six o' clock, same evening. tab and chris sat watching television on
the bed, which chris had transformed into a double that morning. this
night, he wanted everything to be right...he put his arm around her,
feeling almost as nervous as he'd been the first time he'd touched her.
he wasn't concentrating on the crappy american sitcom, he was going
over the phonecall he'd just made...table for two, nine o' clock, the
woman had repeated to him. tab had said she wasn't sure if she would be
hungry enough to go out to dinner that night but he had managed to
cajole her into a compromise; he had changed the booking he had
previously made to an hour later...phew, problem overcome. he glanced
at her. did she have any idea of what he had planned? he was so worried
that she would notice his nervousness and ask what the matter was, but
she seemed immersed in the flickerings of the tv set. he didn't know
that her mind was as busy as his.

nine twenty. tab had become bored waiting for the meal and had gone to
the bar to order another drink. she flirted with the good-looking
barman, eyeing him from under her heavily mascara laden lashes and
subtly sucking on the end of her finger. she didn't care any more,
she'd break it to him probably on the way home the next day...the
weekend had made her mind up about something that had been bothering
her for some time, she had confirmed that she really was just so bored
with him now...as she leant over the bar to order another double, she
felt frustration with chris; why hadn't he moved on too? she craved
more, more excitement, more danger and became irritated thinking how
easy he was to please...but no, she would calm down. it wasn't his
fault, it was just one of those things. she would let him have his
precious weekend first...then she'd finish with him.

chris, for the first time in his life had problems finishing his
meal...he kept glancing at tab; she looked so beautiful...he wanted to
remember this night for ever. finally, however, he pushed his cutlery
together and pushed his plate forward. how was your meal? he asked,
praying that everything was as perfect as he'd planned. she said it had
been delicious, oh thank god! he saw the waiter approaching from the
corner of his eye...this was his cue coming...he wasn't ready...he
couldn't do it...the plates were gone, coffees on their way... tab...he
faltered...here we go, she thought, as usual, the another-year-on
anniversary speech. she wasn't sure whether to feel guilty or smug at
her secret but couldn't help thinking i-know-something-you-don't-know
as she prepared for what he had to say...um..yeah...chris continued.
well, it's been another year, obviously, and...um...a bit of a strange
one with you in durham and everything but still...um...well i suppose
that sort of stuff can only make us stronger...tab put on a smile- oh,
the irony!- but was secretly beginning to feel a bit sick...chris,
oblivious, continued...and it's been really good, coming up to stay
with you and meeting all your new friends and stuff...well, um...i just
feel so proud of you ...oh no, thought tab, i think he's going to...oh
god, he's actually crying...this is terrible, oh please stop...and i'm
just in awe of you really...i love you so much, i can't believe i'm
actually going out with you, after all this time...he reached into his
jacket pocket...thank god, he's going to sort his face out, thought
tab, trying to seem calm but fighting back an urge to scream, to escape
the guilt...he fumbled behind the chair...but...oh, i'm doing this all
wrong...basically tab, I just want to say one thing...he thrust the box
at her...will you marry me?