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“And did he say that would work?” She flicked the ash onto the pavement to deflect the thin spiral of smoke.
“They don’t even go there, love. They just say this is the next step if I am to beat this thing.”
Eric shifted uncomfortably on the bench. He could do without having to explain it. He was not even sure he had understood it himself. He knew he was not looking forward to it. Not just the operation, but the stopping smoking, and losing 10 kilos. How on earth was he going to do that?
Gwen put on her best brittle smile. “Let’s go into the Duck & Swan for a counter lunch. They do a great lamb shank on pension day, and lovely creamy mashed spuds, just the way you like them.”
Gingerly, she helped him up from the bench and together they hobbled into the corner pub.
2 comments:
Oh yes, you have captured nicely one of those moments in life ... the worry when our body goes awry. Also, Eric and Gwen are perfect names and kept well in character all the way through.
However, what I wanted to hint at was the lack of communication. He could not tell her and she could not bear to hear. It was easier to fall into their usual habit ... which was one of the things that got them into this situation to begin with. Mashed potatoes, gravy all washed down with a beer or three.
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