Anger sometimes makes me brave and while I wash the dishes after Sunday lunch I feel it curl my top lip into a sneer as I curse every breath Billy Harker ever inhaled, but when he appears at the back gate, it retreats to the hollow inside me I’ve learned to keep myself. I turn away from the window and make a silent wish that he won’t start anything today, then I open the back door to the man I refer to as my husband. It’s four thirty, he’s an hour and a half late, and all he can say is this better not be dried up as he barges past me almost knocking me into the cooker because he can’t walk in a straight line. I shouldn’t have expected anything different, but when he left this morning he promised me he would be on time. It’s my birthday; I wanted it to be special. I bought a bottle of wine and flowers for the table; I just wanted to see if we could be normal for a change. Sometimes I can be so stupid.
