Madam Quadira

Excerpt

She wasn’t sure how she felt. What she did know was that her feelings were different from the first occasion she had pledged herself to a man. Even if her daughters hadn’t been there on that occasion either; which would have been something of a miracle anyway given they had yet to be born or even conceived of at the time.

Not for the first time over the last seven months or so on from when he had made his intentions plain, she questioned her feelings for him and why they had changed. Certainly, she no longer felt the same antipathy towards him she had felt in the past. But antipathy in diluted form was still a long way short of love.

Or even genuine fondness.

And it wasn’t her feelings alone she had failed to consider.

Her daughters had been against her marrying again right from the start and their feelings towards the man intended to replace their sorely missed father were not becoming any warmer.

In fact, the more he tried to make himself amenable the more they seemed to dislike him.

Again, she cursed the job that had taken her husband from her and transported him to another land from which he was destined not to return. There was not a day that passed during which she didn’t miss him. It was as if a part of her were AWOL and to compensate she had filled the void with the first sympathetic man to come along.

It was a disturbing thought and, after only a week of marriage, she was becoming surer by the minute that she had made a very bad error of judgment.

She was also certain her late-husband’s parents felt the same way about the new model, though, good people that they were, no mention of their misgivings was made.

Which was more than could be said for her own mother and father who, good people as they were, could not prevent themselves from warning her off the new man.

And her siblings had to be heard to be believed, so outraged were they by her choice.

Alone in the home they had once shared, her new husband away visiting a friend, she looked at herself in the black dress she always wore to take flowers to the memorial plaque she and her daughters had insisted be struck for a loving husband and father.

To outward appearances nothing had changed.

Physically.

On the inside, however, it could just as well have been a pod from the body-snatchers in residence.

Again not for the first time, she took a photo of her late-husband from her handbag and wondered why she had allowed the new version to persuade her if would be a good idea to put pictures of the old out-of-sight.

Far from taking her mind from her loss, she not only felt about him more often but now felt guilty into the bargain.

Her mind wandered back to that day at Gatwick when she had waved goodbye and he had disappeared through departures.

Had she had any idea just what an impact his departure would have on their lives going ahead, she would have dragged him out of that airport and kicked and screamed until he not only left the airport with her but called his company and told them that not only would he not be leaving that day but that he would NEVER be leaving at all…