Staring at the Sun Ch. 02

My husband glanced at his watch and stood up. "Time for dinner. I booked a table for 8pm."

I drained my glass and followed him across the sunlit square to the hotel entrance. Inside I could hear sounds of laughter and music and smiled. "Someone's having fun""

Richard grunted and I felt my heart sink. The good mood seemed to have gone and I felt a knot of fear begin to grow in my stomach. Was it because of the business that my husband always seemed so tense and irritable lately?

* The atmosphere in the imposing dining room was awkward. Despite the fact it was early summer, the hotel was quiet and there were only two other couples eating. The wedding guests seemed to be in another wing of the hotel and I envied them the fun they were having. The silence weighed heavily on us and I wished fervently that the children were here to provide a distraction. Ironically, I thought back to all the times we'd been out to eat and the children had been naughty or disruptive. I'd wished then for peace and quiet to enjoy the meal, but now I longed for their reassuring presence and their endless chatter.

Guiding the conversation onto safer topics, I asked Richard about his plans for the next day.

"How much wine do you want to take home?"

"Your father's asked for two cases of the Nuits St Georges."

"OK." I tried to forget about the GP's warnings of high blood pressure, not wishing to further aggravate my husband. "Don't forget I want to buy some Loire white as well."

We'd decided to drive to the Loire after Burgundy and indulge in one of my favourite wines and the village of the same name. We had drunk Vouvray at our wedding and it was a special wine for both of us.

Richard sighed. "We need to be careful. We haven't a lot of room in the car."

I stopped looking at the menu and gazed at the irritated face of my husband. "Look, Richard, let's get whatever's bothering you out into the open. You were so happy earlier."

He ignored me and I could feel the anger and frustration growing inside me. "Perhaps I should call my father and ask what the hell's going on then?"

I said it quietly but Richard knew this time I was serious. He looked up and his face was set and angry. "Now's not the time, Louise, OK? We'll talk about it tomorrow when I don't feel as if every word I utter is being listened to by strangers."

I looked around the silent room and had to agree with him. A heavy cloud of unhappiness seemed to hover around us and our body language must have showed how tense we both were.

"OK. Let's just forget it now and talk tomorrow." I bit my lip and fought down the urge to ask the questions that were whirling around in my head. Richard, when cornered, could turn sarcastic and the last thing I wanted was a heated argument with an avid audience.

We ate the beautifully prepared food and tried to make conversation, but it was useless. Each mouthful I took felt like sawdust and the wine from the nearby chateau could have been vinegar. I felt like an outsider in my own marriage, adrift on a sea of worry and despair and suddenly everything in my life that was secure seemed to be shifting.

And what further worry would tomorrow bring?