‘There are other ways I can think of to keep warm,’ Adam says, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck.
It’s been a while since I have slept with my husband.
It was different when we first got together – we couldn’t keep our hands off each other back then – but I’m sure that’s the case for a lot of couples. It sounds daft having been married for so long, but the thought of taking my clothes off fills me with dread. My body doesn’t look like it used to.
‘I’m just going to freshen up,’ I say, taking something from the overnight bag before retreating to the bathroom. ‘Check under the bed for ghosts while you wait.’
‘Then what?’
‘Wait longer.’
With the door closed between us, I start to feel calmer again. More in control. I pretend not to know why I am so nervous about being intimate with my own husband, but it’s one of those little white lies I tell myself. Just like we all do. I stand barefoot on the cold tiled floor in the unfamiliar bathroom, and stare at the woman in the mirror, then I look away as I remove the rest of my clothes. The new black silk-and-lace nightdress I bought just for this trip doesn’t turn me into someone else, but it might help turn him on. Is it wrong to want to be desired by the man I married?
I open the bathroom door, attempting to look sexy as I step out from behind it, but I needn’t have bothered. The bedroom is empty. Adam is gone.
Adam
Doesn’t a KEEP OUT sign make everyone want to see what’s behind it? And I’ve always been rather attracted to danger.
I know Amelia will take forever to ‘freshen up’ in the bathroom and I’m bored waiting. So I take a sip of wine, then step back out onto the landing to see if Bob wants to keep me company. But he’s already sound asleep. And snoring.
That’s when the DANGER KEEP OUT sign catches my eye and I just can’t resist trying the door handle it is hanging on. Surely nothing that dangerous could really be lurking behind it. All the other doors up here were locked, but when I turn the knob, this one opens. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I suppose I’d hoped for something more exciting than a narrow wooden staircase leading upwards. I can see another door at the top of it. Bob has opened one eye and grumbles in my direction. But curiosity killed the cat, not the dog or the man, and now I really want to know what’s at the top of the stairs.
There’s no light, so I grab one of the candles from the bedroom, then make my way up. One creaky step at a time. I feel something touch my face in the gloom, and imagine tiny fingers, but it’s just cobwebs. I guess nobody has cleaned this part of the house for a long time either. I’m anticipating that the door at the top of the forbidden stairs will be locked. But it isn’t. As soon as I open it, a huge gust of wind blows out the candle and almost knocks me off my feet.
The bell tower.
The Arctic air outside feels like a slap in the face, but the view from the top of the chapel is spectacular. I feel like I can see the whole world from up here – the valley, the loch, the mountains in the distance, all lit by a fat full moon. The snow has stopped, finally, and the clouds have parted to reveal a black sky decorated with stars. The bell – which is considerably bigger than it looks from the ground – is surrounded by four knee-high white walls. There is no safety rail and barely enough room to sidestep around the main attraction, but it’s worth the risk to take in the three-sixty-degree view from every possible angle.
As I look up at the night sky, it seems almost inconceivable to me that something so magical is always there. We’re all too busy looking down to remember to look up at the stars. It makes me sad when I think about all the things I might have already missed out on in life, but I plan to change that.
I take my phone out of my pocket to take a picture – the phone my wife thinks is still at home in London. I felt sick when I saw her remove it from the car glovebox before we left, before hiding it in the house. I felt even worse when she lied about where it was, blaming me for leaving it behind. She’s been behaving strangely for months and now I know I haven’t been imagining it.
Amelia went to see a financial advisor recently. She didn’t tell me about it until after the event. Said that I spent too much time worrying about the past, and that she wanted to better prepare for the future. I didn’t realise at first that she meant hers, not ours. What other explanation is there for her setting up life insurance in my name and asking me to sign it when she thought I was drunk a couple of weeks ago?