Innholdsfortegnelse for June 2024 i Take a Break Fiction Feast

After sealing victory against her husband at tennis, Lisa punched the air triumphantly as if she’d just won Wimbledon. The pair then made their way to the net where Mark offered his congratulations. ‘Well played,’ he said, as they shook hands. ‘Thanks,’ Lisa replied. She then asked: ‘What was wrong with your backhand today?’ Mark shrugged. ‘I’m not quite sure.’ ‘Never mind. I just hope you play better than that next Sunday.’ ‘Next Sunday?’ Mark repeated, blankly. ‘The club’s annual mixed doubles tournament,’ Lisa said. ‘Don’t tell me you’d forgotten?’ Loath to admit that he had forgotten, Mark decided to tell a little white lie. ‘Of course I haven’t.’ ‘I should hope not,’ Lisa said. ‘Especially as we’re going to win this year.’ As Lisa proceeded to outline their strategy,…

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Are you sure you want to do this, love?’ Jody’s dad peered over his glasses as he drove down the street. He likely wanted to check she hadn’t turned to jelly with nerves in the passenger seat, or worse, dissolved into tears. Jody had always fancied herself as a bit of a comedian. Attending an open-mic talent night at a pub seemed like a good idea to her — but not to her father. At least he’d offered to give her a lift and promised not to say a word. She’d decided to keep her plan a secret from her friends in case it turned into a disaster. ‘I’m seizing the day,’ her voice trembled. ‘I made a decision to do loads of scary things I’ve always wanted to do.…

As they stepped outside the cottage, it was Nick the estate agent who spoke first. ‘It’s not very big, is it?’ ‘Not very big?’ Hannah replied. ‘My mum’s house has bigger cupboards!’ Nick shrugged. ‘You said you wanted a cottage in the country. This would have been built for the family of a farm labourer in the mid-1800s. Back then, en-suite bathrooms meant a tin tub in front of the fire, I’m afraid.’ She had a vague memory of sitting in the ancient rocking chair Hannah smiled. Nick was right, of course. Escaping the crazy rush of London for the quiet life of working on her novel in a country cottage meant exactly that — a country cottage. Luxury flats in Canary Wharf were part of the past she was…

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted my ex, Dylan, on the other side of the club. Dylan had always made my heart beat faster. I was engaged now — in fact, I was on my hen night with the girls, getting a round in at the bar. As for me and Dylan — our strong attraction to each other had been deep and mesmerising. I’d fallen for him quickly and he’d said he felt the same. But I steadied myself. The best idea tonight was just to ignore him. ‘Hey, Carly!’ He pulled me into a brief hug. ‘Fancy seeing you here!’ Then he noticed my white bride’s veil, sparkly beads and L-plates. ‘Oh gosh, is this your hen night?’ he asked. ‘Yep!’ I flashed up my engagement…

Conrad Barton was standing proudly to attention on the steps of the retirement home where he lived. Wearing his smartest blazer, his Oxford shirt and his Rotary Club tie, he was waiting to welcome a new resident, Phyllis Larkin. Despite his regimental manner, Conrad had a warm heart and was anxious to make Phyllis feel welcome. Glancing at his watch, Conrad frowned when he discovered she was running late. Conrad was the type of person who was always punctual and tried his best to ensure that everything ran like clockwork. Although he was a stickler for order and punctuality, Conrad immediately dispelled the frown. The last thing he wanted to do was create a bad impression when Phyllis finally arrived. Thirty-five minutes later, Conrad was frowning once more. His back…

You know how it is during those first heady weeks of a new love affair — everything is perfect. Not just each other, but the world around you. Coffee tastes better, breakfast together is the most romantic meal in the world and a simple walk in the park feels pretty wonderful. It is in conditions such as these that people decide to marry in haste, though the decision may later appear foolhardy. Husbands leave wives, employees request transfers hundreds of miles away, and some people who have never bothered with poetry before are moved to pen heartfelt verse. Knowing that such feelings are a kind of madness in others does not prevent them from doing powerful things to you, and so it was with Greg and me as we lay…

Ever since the emergency surgery to remove her appendix, Laura had been brooding. It was one of those sudden life events that came along out of the blue and made you reflect on everything. Having recovered, she was now restless, and keen to shake up her life before it was too late. Of course, her family had taken all this with a giant pinch of salt, saying she’d ‘get over’ her dissatisfaction and ‘go back to normal’ before long — as if that was a good thing. Trying to be helpful, her grown-up son Ollie had already said: ‘All this navel-gazing isn’t really you, Mum. You’re a leap first and look later kind of person.’ Was that always a positive? True, she’d been very taken with a proverb she’d read…

Laura smiled at Martin. ‘I’ve just realised, next weekend’s a bank holiday,’ she said. ‘What are we going to do? I fancy a day out in Blackpool.’ ‘We can’t afford it,’ he said. ‘You’ll want to go shopping and on the amusements and have fish and chips…’ ‘Yeah, I really know how to live it up!’ Laura said, but her sarcasm was lost on him. ‘Darling, it’ll probably be wet so we’ll have to eat in a café, rather than have a take-away. It all mounts up.’ ‘But there are sales on,’ she argued. ‘I’m desperate for some new clothes for spring. And the shops in Blackpool are absolutely brilliant!’ ‘Exactly. You’ll end up spending lots of money. Besides…’ ‘What?’ Martin looked down, trying to avoid her eyes. ‘There’s a…

Apron wars Is it basil or oregano your mother adds to Bolognese sauce?’ Sharon asked. The bubbling mixture looked appetising, but when she tasted it, something was definitely missing. Looking again at the recipe again, she still couldn’t decipher her mother-in-law’s handwriting. ‘Something’s not quite right,’ her husband agreed, dipping a spoon into the pan. ‘Add lots of extra herbs, that’ll sort it out.’ And he headed out to the garage to tinker with the Inspector Morse Jaguar that occupied most of his waking moments. ‘Typical of Alistair,’ she muttered under her breath. She recalled the early days of their relationship when he’d donned an apron — and sometimes nothing else. His repertoire had comprised his mother’s Bolognese, moussaka, shepherd’s pie and lamb rogan josh. Now she was lucky if…

Sally breathed in and squeezed herself into the shorts she had bought in the sales. They were a bit tight — in fact they nearly cut off all blood supply below the waist — but that didn’t matter. By the time she had lost weight, they would fit her perfectly. As she jogged into the lounge, her sister, Dawn, started spluttering into her tea. ‘Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?’ she cried, once she’d stopped coughing. Sally glared at her. Where did she think she was going? ‘I’m off to the cinema, of course,’ she said, her voice full of sarcasm. ‘I’ve got a hot date.’ ‘It would want to be hot with you dressed like that!’ Dawn laughed. ‘You could catch your death! You do know…

Leah stared at the gorgeous red roses in the crystal vase adorning the mantelpiece. A present from Mick. To my darling wife, the tiny card next to them read in Mick’s untidy writing, with all my love. They were truly beautiful. But something about them made her feel uneasy. Mick wasn’t given to romantic gestures or gushing sentiments and this was the third present she’d received this week. First, it had been chocolates, then champagne and now roses. Hadn’t she read somewhere that suddenly giving presents was a sign of danger in a relationship? Was Mick having an affair? The idea was almost laughable. Big, gruff Mick having an affair! The man whose main passion was watching football on the telly or playing darts in the pub with his mates.…

Sophie scrunched her hair into a ponytail and put on a beige coat. Del frowned as she zipped it up. ‘Is that new?’ he asked. ‘Yes.’ ‘How much was it?’ ‘Two hundred quid.’ ‘Two hundred pounds for a coat? Are you mad?’ ‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s warm, special, and worth its weight in gold. I love it.’ But Del wasn’t happy. ‘Where’s the receipt? I think you should take it back and get a refund. You don’t need a new coat.’ She knew he’d say that. Del hated her spending any money. They’d been married for five years, and during that time he’d queried every receipt, bank statement and credit card transaction — even though she earned a good salary and paid her way. She’d just bought a plane ticket…

When my neighbour knocked on my door one Thursday afternoon, I had no idea that it would turn my world upside down. ‘Sorry to bother you, John, but I need a favour. My boss has asked me to do an extra shift at the supermarket, but I’d promised to take Mum to the cinema. It’s a lot to ask, but can you go instead? The film starts at 3pm.’ It was my day off. The last thing I wanted to do was spend it watching a film with the formidable Margaret Hawkins. But Sarah had done so much for me since I moved here — recommended tradespeople and fed my cat when I went away — I owed her a favour. ‘Can’t you go some other day?’ I asked. ‘Unfortunately…

Going online If Hermione was on Facebook,’ Alex said, as we searched the garden for our missing cat, ‘someone would have found her by now.’ ‘I don’t understand. How can a cat be on Facebook?’ I asked my son. ‘Some people pretend to be their pets and blog on their behalf. Fred and Ginger — the goldfish — are my favourites.’ ‘I bet their posts are really interesting — swam round the bowl, then swam round again.’ ‘They have great adventures,’ he protested. ‘They swim through sunken ships and dart through killer weeds…’ Pretending to be a goldfish — or two — obviously kept somebody happy. Social media baffled me. People had hundreds of ‘friends’ online yet didn’t know their neighbours, me included. But we’d only moved here three months…