‘How are you Alice?’ Henry smiled. Before she could answer he added, ‘I won. Jack isn’t too happy you can imagine.’
He laughed heartily.
‘He had to buy me a drink. That hurt him.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Alice. ‘I’m just about to leave I’m afraid.’
‘Oh no,’ said Imogen, touching her arm.
I was rude, Henry thought.
‘Perhaps we should have talked more about that job, Imogen,’ he said.
‘I’ll see you out,’ Imogen said, and they walked to the front door. Henry followed them.
‘Talk to Henry for goodness’ sake. Tell him the job is important to you,’ said Alice earnestly. ‘I really want you, Imogen. No one can do the job as well as you.’
‘He doesn’t understand,’ said Imogen sadly.
Henry with a jolt realised that Imogen had been quite right. He hadn’t understood. It seemed he hadn’t understood a lot of things.
‘I thought you were happy at home,’ he said.
He looked back to the Henry of that day who sat smug-faced at the garden table with a glass of wine in his hand. How could he have been so blind?
‘There’s none so blind as those that will not see,’was one of his mother’s favourite sayings. Did he deliberately not see? Had it suited him? He watched Imogen close the front door and lean against it for a moment. A feeling of resentment overcame him. Why hadn’t she been stronger? He’d loved her enough. Why hadn’t she stood up to him? If she’d wanted children he would have acquiesced. It may have taken a while, but he would have come round. He felt certain of that. He’d wanted them both to be happy. Of course he liked her to be home. He would have found it difficult if she had earnt as much as him. A blow to his masculinity that would have been, but all the same they should have talked about it more. He never wanted a weak wife. He watched as she joined the smug Henry in the garden.
‘She seemed a bit off with me,’ said Henry.
Imogen shrugged.
‘She’s a little upset that I didn’t take the job of manager.’
‘Ah,’ nodded Henry. ‘I’m sure she’ll get over it.’
‘Yes,’ said Imogen.
‘You don’t mind do you?’
‘Mind?’ asked Imogen.
‘Not taking the job?’
There, thought Henry. I did ask her.
‘No. I don’t mind,’ she answered.
A lie, thought Henry. It seemed there had been many lies. He shivered as the sun went in and it was quickly dark again. Drops of rain fell onto his head and he hurriedly pulled on his coat. Imogen looked up at the sky, sighed and then went back into the house where Cynthia and Faye were waiting.
‘Are you alright to carry on, dear?’ asked Cynthia.
Henry could see that Cynthia was very keen to carry on.
‘I suppose so,’ said Imogen reluctantly. ‘It is upsetting me though.’
She sat on the floor next to Faye. She kept the wine glass in one hand and placed the fingers of the other onto the planchette. Henry was bored now and figured it was about time to leave. He’d told Rita he would see her at nine. All the same, thought Henry. I’m here now. It would be stupid not to give it a try. He also placed his hands on the planchette and when Faye asked again if anyone was there, he answered yes. It was easier the second time around.
‘Tell us your name,’ asked Faye.
