Adrian had a choice to make: his boyfriend, or a girl he had just bumped into . . . An Improbable Dream by Violetta Antcliff. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
Adrian had never doubted his sexuality, he had a live-in partner, and now the law had changed they planned to get married. First however, he had to break the news to the family; therein lay the problem. His mother refused to accept the fact her son was homosexual and Liam O’Donall his Irish Catholic grandfather put it down to a phase he was going through.
A chance meeting with a beautiful, flirtatious girl gave him pause for thought; who was right, them or him? Was finding that special someone and marrying for love, no more than an improbable dream? It was up to him to find out.
Word Count: 10100
Pages to Print: 39
Price: $ 3.99
“Iron it yourself, can’t you? Who do you think I am, your bloody mother?” Adrian’s handsome face was contorted with rage. He loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes and plonked himself down angrily on the settee.
He’d had a long hard day at the office and the last thing he wanted was to come home to a domestic.
He gently massaged his temples with his fingertips and closed his eyes, hoping the headache that had just started would go away without him having to resort to taking pills.
“Do you really need a clean shirt? I thought we’d decided to stay in tonight, order a take-away.”
“You can stay in if you like, I’m going to the club,” his partner retorted angrily. “And whilst you’re asking, no I don’t think you’re my bloody mother. If you had been, I’d at least have had a clean shirt to put on.”
Adrian heard the front door bang to, and he knew any chance he’d had of making it up was now out of the question. He felt guilty. He knew Toby was right, it was his fault there were no clean shirts in the cupboard, or clean anything else, as far as that went. He’d been that busy at the office he hadn’t had time to think about domestic chores, let alone tend to them.
He sighed, dragged himself up from the settee, and made his way through to the kitchen to make himself something to eat; but the cupboard was bare: no milk, no butter, zilch. He slammed the fridge door to. He’d started to calm down, but now his anger was back with a vengeance. He wasn’t the only one who’d been shirking his duties. It was Toby’s job to do the food shopping; they’d sat at the kitchen table less than a week ago and drawn up a list of whose own job it would be to do what.
He returned to the lounge and sat, tight as a wound up spring, back down on the settee.
It was starting to get dark outside, but he made no attempt to pull the drapes to or turn the light on.
Eventually however, his anger drained away and his thoughts turned once again back to basics. What take-away should he order, Chinese or Indian? He was hungry.
He washed the Tika masala down with a can of Coke. Feeling much better now he had a full stomach, he settled down in front of the television to watch a game of football.
It was past twelve o’clock before he decided to retire for the night, and past one o’clock before he heard the key grate in the front door lock and Toby creeping up the stairs.
He felt the duvet being pulled back and feigned sleep, the last thing he wanted was another row.
He could smell alcohol on Toby’s breath and wondered if he’d risked driving home the worse for drink, or if he’d done the sensible thing and hired a taxi, he hoped it was the latter.
The next morning, Adrian killed the alarm before it had time to go off; he guessed Toby would prefer an extra hour in bed to a jog round the park.
It was a beautiful morning, the grass was heavy with early dew and the birds were in full chorus. Adrian felt at peace with the world; he had a wedding and a honeymoon to plan, and at that precise moment he couldn’t have been happier. He jogged along in a euphoric mood, oblivious of where he was going.
A friendly, “Morning,” followed by, “Look where you’re going,” brought him back to earth with a jolt. A girl stood in front of him, rubbing her shoulder and grimacing in pain.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you,” he said, hoping an apology would suffice and he’d be able to continue with his run.
“That’s bloody obvious,” the girl said, exercising her shoulder gingerly, face twisted in agony.
Adrian couldn’t make up his mind if she was genuinely in pain, or if she was putting it on for his benefit.
“If I’ve hurt you, I’m truly sorry,” he said. “Look, allow me to run you to A and E, just to make sure no serious damage has been done.”
The girl sniggered. “What, we jog along to A and E together, or are you weighing me up to see if it’s possible to piggy back me there?”
Adrian could see the girl was making fun of him. “I have a car,” he said tight-lipped. “If you would like to sit down over there—” he pointed to a park bench “—I’ll go and fetch it.”
The girl stood looking up at him, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth. He noticed for the first time how pretty she was. Her eyes were blue and full of mischief, and her hair, even though half-covered with a sweatband and dragged back in a ponytail, was the colour of spun gold.
Until she coughed to attract his attention, Adrian hadn’t realised he’d been stood staring at her. “Look, I can only repeat I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do, please just tell me,” he said, flustered.