Each Way Bet Read Online Free

had experienced none of the highs and the lows and the plateaus of a really good bout of sex.
    Indeed – was it worth it?
Jillian
    Jack and Jill went up the hill,
to fetch a pail of water,
We don’t know what they did up there,
but now they have a daughter . . .
    Or, to be more precise, three daughters, and a son, and a dog with a severe case of mange, and a cat with a personality disorder, and several uninvited mice, and a hefty damn mortgage that keeps me awake at night, and . . . and I’ve had enough.
    Jill tore the sheet of paper off the pad with exasperation, scrunched it up and threw it into the wicker rubbish-bin, where it bounced off the rest of the rejected paper wads andtumbled onto the floor. Ignoring it, she sucked on the end of her pen and stared into the thick circular mirror that backed the old-fashioned walnut dressing-table she was sitting at. Perhaps it was better not to try writing the speech down; perhaps it was better simply to rehearse it verbally. Accordingly, she removed the pen from her mouth, plastered a sincere and regretful expression on her face, and began.
    ‘It’s not that I don’t love you, Jack – I do. And I don’t regret one single year of the nineteen that I’ve spent with you. But things have changed, or I have – whatever. You must have realised that something’s not right. And I’ve tried, I’ve really tried, but I want more – I need more, or else I’m so . . . so very scared that I’m going to go mad.’
    Jill stopped speaking and, leaning forward, continued to stare at herself in the mirror, half expecting some sort of physical change to reflect her inner turmoil. But, outwardly at least, there was nothing. Still the same thirty-nine year old features: green eyes, mouth slightly too large, and wavy, shoulder-length coppery-blond hair that desperately needed a trim.
    She grimaced at herself and turned away, putting the pen back into her mouth and chewing the end absentmindedly. The thing was that she really didn’t want to hurt him – at all. She just wanted out, but an easy out with no recriminations or acrimony or thoughts of what might have been. But she also knew nothing was that easy. Even thinking about telling Jack was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. A bitter taste that felt cloying, and thick, and altogether distasteful. Really revolting, in fact.
    With a sense of foreboding, Jill pulled the pen out of her mouth and looked at the end. Sure enough, the small plastic plug had buckled in and the ink was bubbling out. She looked quickly back at the mirror and groaned when she saw the tell-tale black ink stains seeping along the creases of her lips. She bared her teeth and they glistened with an ebony sheen.
    ‘Shit.’
    Jill threw the pen into the rubbish-bin with disgust and then, with her mouth hanging open so that she wouldn’t swallow inadvertently, hurried into the ensuite to clean up. Five minutes later, she was back staring into the mirror again, and this time there was a physical change. But a liquorice-grey tongue and teeth that looked like all the nerves had been removed were not quite what she’d had in mind earlier.
    ‘Shit, shit, shit .’
    Jill decided to postpone the rehearsal for now and instead pulled the ties of the rubbish-bin liner together and hefted it out of the bin. Then she collected the few crumpled pieces of paper that littered the floor and shovelled them inside before tying off the ends securely. The last thing she needed was for Jack to pick one up and read it. Not just yet, anyway.
    Lugging the plastic bag beside her, Jill walked out of her bedroom and towards the kitchen, trying to ignore the fact her surroundings were beginning to resemble a poorly managed op shop. The house itself was of an open-plan rectangular design with large, spacious rooms that had been able to absorb quite a lot of clutter before it started to overflow. The lounge-room was to the immediate right of the tiled entry foyer, and straight ahead the