WHO FOLLOWS: a gripping, dramatic, intense and suspenseful thriller Read Online Free
Author: Diane M Dickson
overwrought by the events of the last few hours and more, so much more than that I am reduced by the knowledge that my dear Humming Bird is most probably beyond my grasp. Cruel, cruel that I should meet her now in the gloaming of my days. I know that she is so much more than I could have ever hoped but at the same moment I acknowledge that she is for me, so very, very far out of reach.
I banister drag myself up the stairs and throw myself across the duvet and so give way to a torrent of self-pity and hopelessness. For the first time in my life I feel the years crushing me and I wail for the past and for the loss and for the pain of it all.
Chapter 10
Tonight we will meet again for dinner. This is the third date and I am dressing with care. I apply cosmetics, something that I thought I had forsaken for good some years ago but Hannah insists that I should “Keep up my standards.” Not give up on the feminine side of things. I call her Hannah, I have let go the pretension of Humming Bird. She is so much more real now and is deserving of her correct title. She is Hannah and in the secret corners of my mind I admit that she is “My Hannah”.
We are going to an Italian restaurant and then to a play reading. Friends from when I taught at the college part-time have invited us. More properly they invited me and a friend, and what other friend would I take? She is endearingly excited about the play reading, it is her first experience of such and I pray that she won’t be disappointed. I am so very surprised at her naiveté. For such an accomplished business woman and talented artist she is surprisingly inexperienced in many things that I have taken for granted. She has travelled a little and is “cultured” in the usual sort of way, some Shakespeare, Opera even Glyndebourne with her ex-husband but there are still many, many things for me to show her, and indeed she teaches me something new every time we meet.
We are comfortable together now, her sense of humour is perforce younger than mine but it is enchanting to me. I have yet to broach the subject of the difference in our ages, I don’t dare mention it. I have chosen to ignore it. It is a pretence and I know it will come back to haunt me and I continually shore up the wall that threatens to crumble each time I acknowledge the issue. I am afraid all the time, I fear that she will tire of me, that she will realise that there are too many differences, that the generational discrepancy will prove too much. So many things that keep me tossing and turning in the night, and in an agony of worry in the day when my mind insists that I think about it. So many things that could force my hand and cause me to act while I am still unprepared.
For tonight I will live again in the moment, I will enjoy the sight of her, the feel of her skin as she wraps her arms around me. I will devour the wondrous feel of her lips on my cheek and the brush of air as she kisses me. I will enjoy the tinkle of her voice, the chime of her laughter and the warmth of her in my space. I will bathe in the glory of her nearness. Then later when I am alone again I will, I know, feel the track of salt water across my cheeks and under my ears as I lie in my solitary bed and crave her presence.
It can’t go on I know that, the time is coming when I will have to decide how to progress, what direction this relationship will take. Will she come willingly, become my happy helpmate and my loving companion or will it be like the last time, the time with Marie. I pray there will be no need for any of that and as my thoughts stray down that painful alleyway I fiddle with the charm on my neck chain. It is the only thing that there is left of her my silly, silly girl. How sad that was.
Chapter 11
The days move on and with them joy grows ever stronger. I have invited Hannah for dinner. I am in a dither, my hands shake as I trim beans and skin the salmon. The wine is chilled and there are small dishes of nuts and dips
I banister drag myself up the stairs and throw myself across the duvet and so give way to a torrent of self-pity and hopelessness. For the first time in my life I feel the years crushing me and I wail for the past and for the loss and for the pain of it all.
Chapter 10
Tonight we will meet again for dinner. This is the third date and I am dressing with care. I apply cosmetics, something that I thought I had forsaken for good some years ago but Hannah insists that I should “Keep up my standards.” Not give up on the feminine side of things. I call her Hannah, I have let go the pretension of Humming Bird. She is so much more real now and is deserving of her correct title. She is Hannah and in the secret corners of my mind I admit that she is “My Hannah”.
We are going to an Italian restaurant and then to a play reading. Friends from when I taught at the college part-time have invited us. More properly they invited me and a friend, and what other friend would I take? She is endearingly excited about the play reading, it is her first experience of such and I pray that she won’t be disappointed. I am so very surprised at her naiveté. For such an accomplished business woman and talented artist she is surprisingly inexperienced in many things that I have taken for granted. She has travelled a little and is “cultured” in the usual sort of way, some Shakespeare, Opera even Glyndebourne with her ex-husband but there are still many, many things for me to show her, and indeed she teaches me something new every time we meet.
We are comfortable together now, her sense of humour is perforce younger than mine but it is enchanting to me. I have yet to broach the subject of the difference in our ages, I don’t dare mention it. I have chosen to ignore it. It is a pretence and I know it will come back to haunt me and I continually shore up the wall that threatens to crumble each time I acknowledge the issue. I am afraid all the time, I fear that she will tire of me, that she will realise that there are too many differences, that the generational discrepancy will prove too much. So many things that keep me tossing and turning in the night, and in an agony of worry in the day when my mind insists that I think about it. So many things that could force my hand and cause me to act while I am still unprepared.
For tonight I will live again in the moment, I will enjoy the sight of her, the feel of her skin as she wraps her arms around me. I will devour the wondrous feel of her lips on my cheek and the brush of air as she kisses me. I will enjoy the tinkle of her voice, the chime of her laughter and the warmth of her in my space. I will bathe in the glory of her nearness. Then later when I am alone again I will, I know, feel the track of salt water across my cheeks and under my ears as I lie in my solitary bed and crave her presence.
It can’t go on I know that, the time is coming when I will have to decide how to progress, what direction this relationship will take. Will she come willingly, become my happy helpmate and my loving companion or will it be like the last time, the time with Marie. I pray there will be no need for any of that and as my thoughts stray down that painful alleyway I fiddle with the charm on my neck chain. It is the only thing that there is left of her my silly, silly girl. How sad that was.
Chapter 11
The days move on and with them joy grows ever stronger. I have invited Hannah for dinner. I am in a dither, my hands shake as I trim beans and skin the salmon. The wine is chilled and there are small dishes of nuts and dips
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