One less book on the shelf

One less
ONE LESS BOOK ON THE SHELF
Her gaze moved across the room nothing made sense anymore, She rested
her eyes on the lamp. The same lamp that had illuminated their
lovemaking with a gentle glow just three nights ago. How dare that lamp
burn so brightly now, didn't it know that everything was different? And
yet it had the gaul to glow as softly as before. The bronze ornament
he'd bought for her birthday; 'The Lovers' a crude, undefined but
stunningly beautiful in it's simplicity special edition of a couple
entwined on a rock. Were they mocking her? Her eyes came to rest on the
book shelf, it leered at her like the grin of a drunkard after a brawl.
The absent book to the right of centre leaving a hole like a missing
tooth. Could she have gleaned some message from the story of the book?
Had she been to dim to know?
A tear slid from the corner of her eye. It travelled slowly down her
nose tickling as it went. She felt numb. So how was it that she was
aware of this solitary tear as gentle as his fore finger had been when
he last traced it down her nose and onto her lips. She had taken it
softly into her mouth and kissed it gently. The tear rested on the tip
of her nose for a full ten seconds. She watched it hanging there "Opal
Drip the death defying tightrope tear balancing without a net on the
most prominent precipice of the visage" She laughed a mirthless laugh
and poor Opal fell to her death splattering on the photograph that
Perry held tightly in her grasp.
They'd been friends forever; but lovers for such a short time. Their
respective mothers had been best friends since before they were born.
The pair had plotted and schemed since Perry and Chris were still in
their prams; that one day they would marry and have children, uniting
by blood, the already strong bond of the two families. Perry smiled as
she remembered how they'd fought their overbearing mothers. Her Mum's
look of horror when she brought home Jed the long haired biker who six
months later had left her for Darren the dancer. It had been Chris who
had mopped her tears. Chris who had always mopped her tears. He'd be
there arms open every time she'd had a row with her parents, every time
a beloved pet had died, every time an unsuitable lover had bitten the
dust. Who would wipe her tears this time?
The two families had cried such tears of joy just a week ago, when
Perry and Chris had announced their plans to marry. The family meal at
Alfredos, rather than a having big brash party had been her idea.
Another tear splashed off her nose, this one not bothering to stop and
check the height of it's plunge. They were holding back on the
engagement to really push the boat out for the wedding. The tears fell
wet and heavily, unchecked, the first two marking the way for the
torrent that followed. Now her thoughts strayed to the magical night
they had finally discovered their love for each other.
A time old story. They'd been at a party, Chris had recently split with
his long time girlfriend Jane. They had ben totally incompatible and
had spent the previous two years constantly arguing. It's not that Jane
wasn't nice but Perry had known from day one that she wasn't right for
Chris. She was too pushy, too ambitious. Perry knew that Chris would
move up the corporate ladder at his own pace, He was laid back, easy
going, that was one of the things she loved most about him, again the
little ghost of a smile, well that and his cute bum.
The party had been in full swing when she'd walked into the hall to
find her boyfriend Steve in a very passionate kiss with another girl.
She'd stormed out of the house after landing a smacker of a different
kind on the unsuspecting Steve. Chris had been right behind her
carrying her coat after she left the house like a marauding bull. He
calmed her that night, soothed her temper the way he had many times
before, they'd been drinking, the moon was high, they each blamed the
other for that first magical kiss, the kiss that neither wanted to end.
The kiss that brought all the suppressed love of the last twenty one
years flowing from them. They joked that the entire night had been a
clich?, and she had never in her life been happier.
The conversation of three nights ago had played over and over in her
head. She had wanted him to stay over at her house, but he had to work
early, and when they were together neither one of them was good at
keeping time. They had fallen into a relaxed pattern of staying
together at either one's house weekends and sleeping alone through the
week. Their parents weren't happy but had turned a blind eye.
He'd wanted to borrow a book. She saw him in her memory as she'd
watched him then, running his finger along the bindings of her books,
stopping every now and then and tilting one over to pull it from it's
position. He read the sleeve and then put it back. She warned him in
mock fierce tone that he'd better put them back in their correct place
"Or else".
"Oooh scary woman" he'd mocked. He finally picked out a book and spent
a little longer pondering over it. This was typical of Chris. He drove
her nuts in the supermarket, spending ages deciding whether to buy
baked beans or tinned spagetti, Just one of the irritations she should
have been teasing him about twenty years from now. "This looks good."
He'd Said. "What's it about?"
"Oh this girl's fella gets murdered in a pub by a man with a knife, and
she tracks him down. And if you want to know anymore you'll have to
read it yourself won 't you?"
She was in her car now. Ice cold, calm, emotionless. She started her
engine as the dark figure closed the gate behind him and started
walking down the road towards her.
"I know the end of the story Chris" She murmured softly. "I know the
end of the story" The girl had gone after her man's killer with a
knife. The book that Chris had borrowed was called "An eye for an eye"
And now there was one less book on the shelf.
She sang quietly in a dull voice to the tune of 29 Bottles of Beer on
the wall..."One less, book on the shelf, One less book on the shelf, if
one book should be borrowed at all. One less book one the shelf to
fall.
She'd told the police she didn't know who the drunken bastard was who'd
mown Chris down in the middle of the street, Said she hadn't seen him
properly, was too upset and confused to notice the car. Said that all
she'd noticed was Chris' limp body flying through the air to land forty
feet away, a red slick spreading out from under him.
But she knew all right.
She checked her rear view mirror. Slipped the car into first. Revved
once. Twice: And as his head came up, she saw his horrified look of
recognition ...
An eye for an eye ...

She was moving forward.

book on the shelf