Never Another You Read Free

in each room, had started to peel around the doorframes and light switches. Nell’s chambers however, showed barely any signs of wear and tear. She kept it pristine. Her expensive cream furniture suite, she would polish daily. Her antique mahogany sleigh bed was dressed in fresh linen every morning. And her walk-in closet was neat and well ordered. It was her safe haven in a dark household.
    It was nearly time to go downstairs and Nell was just about ready, wearing Alistair’s favourite dress. He purchased it for her birthday the previous year, and paid a good sum of money for the green silk gown he had custom made to his liking. She coated her lips with a sliver of red, pinned back her wavy hair, and then picked up Jack’s journal, holding it close to her chest. She would rather spend the night alone reading it, but knew she had to spend time with her husband on their fourth wedding anniversary. He would make her pay dearly if she refused.
    She made sure the journal was well hidden in her closet; on the top shelf next to her cleaned and pressed aprons. She knew it would never be found in there, as it was very rare Alistair entered her room. You see, it wasn’t the atypical marriage, for they both slept separately. It was one of the conditions she made before they got wed. Relations of the bedroom kind, were to always be in Alistair’s room. That way her personal space would remain untainted. Alistair did think it a strange request, but he required her so greatly that he agreed.
    She flicked the switch on her crystal lamp and perched on the stool, staring at her reflection in the ornate framed mirror. It would be difficult tonight, to play the happy wife, when she couldn’t stop thinking of Jack. So, she quickly collected her thoughts, filled her lungs, and made her way out onto the landing.
    Alistair had his favourite music playing in the parlour, which crackled through the speaker. Before Nell even entered the room, she could picture him. His predictive behaviour was so consistent, that she knew it off by heart.
    His routine varied. He would always, without fail, be home for eight in the evening. He would walk through the door, go to his room to freshen up, then to the parlour for whisky. All the while, Nell would stay out of sight to avoid any light conversation, because she had nothing of importance to say to him. She was not comfortable talking openly with her husband. There were many reasons. For one- he may take offence to her opinion. Or, he would simply be disinterested because his god complex he thought more appealing. All Nell could do, was listen and agree as he blew his own trumpet.  
    She opened the heavy oak door to see him suited and booted, dressed in his full military attire. He stood before the grand limestone fire surround, sipping his whisky. His harsh cold blue eyes beamed intensely as she entered. He was ogling, and it made her skin crawl.
    “Good evening Eleanor.” He placed his glass down on the mantel next to the solid silver carriage clock, and ran his hand over his light blonde hair. “I have arranged a culinary delight for us. So please, sit.” He pulled a chair out from beneath the mahogany table set for two.
    She hated every moment of it. He was never normally so courteous. Usually, it was Nell who would have to put the Lieutenant at ease. So, she already knew he wanted much more than just dinner with her. Their marriage was cold and tedious. Formal and unloving. Stale even. She never had any regrets like this with Jack. With Jack, a rainy day would be cheerful. The only regret she did have, was for treating him so badly before he left. But the reasons for this, she never had the chance to reveal. It was the greatest eight weeks of her life. And now she had seen him again, it was thorny for her to be near Alistair. She was scared. Scared he would be able to read her.
    “It’s been a horrendous day for us.” He poured Nell a small sherry. “Losses beyond belief.” He released a