Who Saw Him Die? Read Free Page A

friendship blossoming into affection. They had no expectation of love and no requirement of it, because neither of them had cause to set much store by that emotion.
    Nor was there any sexual element in their relationship before they married. Felicity, who equated sex with indignity and pain, could hardly bear, in the early days of their marriage, to be touched. Jack had hoped for marital intimacy – his first wife had shut up shop after their second daughter was born, and he’d never had the time or spare energy for girl friends – but he wasn’t sure whether he’d still be up to it. He didn’t want the humiliation of trying with Felicity and failing; and he certainly didn’t want to distress or hurt her.
    But because their affection was genuine, they found that they enjoyed being close. When they set up home in The Mount they agreed to have separate bedrooms, but they soon discovered that there was comfort and reassurance in sharing a bed for at least part of the night. Gradually, Felicity learned to trust her new husband’s embraces. Gradually, Jack learned to be considerate with his new wife. Together, they found the experience of sex more pleasurable than either of them had ever thought possible. They also found, on occasions when they chose to abstain, that an exchange of tenderness could be just as satisfactory, in its way, as conjugation; every bit as soporific, and even more conducive to love.
    What finally brought them to the realisation that they had fallen in love was the fun they began to share in bed. Being playful and absurd was a new experience for both of them. Jack loved to make Felicity giggle. He considered it another achievement, all the more unexpected because, in company, she always looked and sounded so precise, almost prudish. The knowledge that when they were cosy together she could be both funny and sweetly silly endeared her to him completely. And because she could relax so unhesitatingly in his arms he knew without doubt – and with considerable pride – that his love was returned.
    â€˜You seem particularly happy this morning, Mr Goodrum,’ she observed as he began his breakfast.
    He grinned at her. ‘I’ve got good reason to be, haven’t I?’
    â€˜ Apart from that, I mean.’ She looked at him with quizzical affection. ‘There’s an air of relief about you, as though you’ve just sorted out some kind of problem. Have you?’
    â€˜D’you wonder I’m relieved?’ he parried. ‘It hasn’t been comfortable, having the inquest on that drunk who fell in front of the Range Rover hanging over me. But we can forget about it now, thank God.’ He gave his egg a casual thump with the back of his spoon, crushing the shell. The egg was cooked just as he liked it, the white firm, the yolk slightly runny. He dipped in a finger of toast – no butter, he was a reformed character now – and munched with contentment.
    â€˜Yes, of course the accident’s been a worry for you,’ his wife agreed sympathetically, ‘even though everyone knows it wasn’t your fault. But your problem went back further than that, didn’t it? Something’s been bothering you almost from the day we came here.’
    He looked up from his egg, surprised and slightly on guard. He hadn’t realised that she was so observant. ‘D’you reckon so?’
    â€˜Oh yes.’ Felicity smiled at him. ‘Feminine intuition,’ she explained. ‘Or perhaps it’s simply because I love you …’
    That made him grin again. ‘You’re a marvel, Mrs Goodrum. And I love you too. That’s why I was worried when we moved in. I want to make you happy, and I wasn’t sure we’d done the right thing by coming to live in Breckham Market. You’d taken such a liking to this house and garden, but I was afraid that after living in London you’d find a small country town too