SOUR

CHAPTER 2 – Disillusionment - "Tiff"

Married life was absolute bliss for the first 6 months. With Jeff's job being so well paid, Tiffany didn't need to work any more. She gave up her job and looked after Jeff as if he were the only other person in the World.

He was her whole life. They planned to have at least two children of their own but as yet, they were unlucky and were beginning to get a little worried. Jeff blamed the whole thing on Tiffany, of course. After all, he already had two children, so he assumed there was nothing wrong with him. But Tiffany thought it was still too early to see the doctor about a fertility test.

There was starting to be conflict in other areas too. To begin with Tiffany always made a fresh packed lunch for Jeff to take to work. She prepared it in the evening and left it in the fridge for him as he left at 5 or 6am in order to miss the rush hour traffic. But increasingly, she would get up at 9am and find it still in the fridge. When she questioned him about it, he just seemed to make up excuses. Either he "forgot it"; or he was "Taking a client to lunch"; or "Didn't fancy cheese again"; or he wanted to "Try the new Cafe down the street".

With Jeff's kids at boarding school, Tiffany spent all her day working hard in the house. Cleaning, preparing food, running errands, shopping and sewing. She always had Jeff's interests at the forefront of her mind. She tidied up after him and kept their home spotlessly clean. She always made sure that there was a different, nutritious and often, exotic, meal ready to serve the moment he came home. All prepared and cooked from scratch, of course. She always made sure that he had at least two changes of clothes, clean, pressed and waiting by his bedside every day. She was the absolute model wife.

At first Jeff seemed to love all the attention and having his every whim catered for. But 6 months in and he began to tire of it. Apart from "forgetting" to take his packed lunch with him to work. He took to complaining that the clothes she left out for him were wrong; that he needed the blue suit for a certain meeting and not the black or brown ones. He started to work late, or decide to go out for drinks or dinner with his olleagues in the evenings instead of eating the meal Tiffany cooked for him. Usually, he wouldn't even bother to phone home and let her know.

But as they approached their first Christmas together things improved a little. They had a great time doing all the Christmas shopping and took time out to reminisce over the previous Christmas when they first laid eyes upon one another.

Jeff went back to his old self as he eagerly planned a family Christmas with his kids, their grandparents, Tiffany's parents, sister, two brothers, their respective partners and the nine nieces and nephews. Although Jeff's dining room was large and had a table that could sit 12 people, there was simply no way he could fit 24 people in for dinner. So they decided to have half the family over on Christmas day and the other half on Boxing day.

Everything looked great! Both families saw them as the perfect couple; the perfect hosts. They even managed to appear that they were still extremely happy. They let their guard down briefly just once. When Jeff's parents mentioned the possibility of more children. But they managed to hide their brief looks of anger and disappointment just in time and shrugged it off as something they were still thinking about.

After more celebrations with the families over new year, and the kids back at boarding school, Jeff and Tiffany quickly settled back into their old routine.

A couple more months went by and things went from bad to worse. Tiffany tried reasoning with him but got nowhere. Most of the time he either refused to answer or simply did not listen to her nagging. Sometimes he'd just say "It is what it is".

Faced with no suitable explanation, Tiffany began to imagine the worst. She assumed he was having an affair with one of the girls at his office. She confronted him with her fears but just got the obligatory "Of course not!"; "Don't be ridiculous!"; or, "I married YOU, didn't I?"

After many of these heated discussions with no explanation, and dozens of good meals thrown in the bin, Tiffany finally decided that enough was enough. As the months went by she gradually reduced the number of things she did around the house. The first thing to go was the packed lunches. Jeff didn't even notice for a few weeks that she had left nothing in the fridge. Then, one morning, he decided to have some sandwiches as his lunch meeting had been cancelled and he had to work through to write up some reports. He was shocked, and a little annoyed to discover when he opened the fridge, that nothing had been left for him.

When he came home that evening he mentioned it. "What happened to my packed lunch this morning, Tiff?" "Oh I didn't have time to make it last night" She said. "Sis rang, and by the time she finished chatting, I forgot and went to bed."

Tiff was careful to not accept the blame and twisted it around to make it Jeff's fault... "Although, it would be very useful if you were to tell me when you actually want a packed lunch. Most days I end up throwing it away, because you don't take it." She said.

But as usual, Jeff had stopped listening.

The next thing to go were the exotic meals made from scratch. Tiffany still cooked meals for a while but they'd be sausage and chips or pie and mash. Gradually even those were replaced with ready-meals from the freezer, heated up in the microwave, or occasionally the sandwiches she had made him that he didn't take to work.

Tiffany began to spend longer in bed in the mornings. Often not getting up until after lunch. Instead of going out every day buying fresh ingredients for dinner, she would order a fortnight's worth of food online and keep it in the freezer.

She then stopped pressing Jeff's suits. She replaced all his cotton shirts with drip-dry ones that didn't need ironing and left his clean suits in the wardrobe for him to press himself after he decided which one he was going to wear that day. Not realising this at first made him late for work on a few occasions. He hated it, and began to complain to Tiffany incessantly. Tiff just responded by going to bed at 8pm and leaving a note stuck to the microwave with the words "Your Dinner" written on it. Jeff only saw it twice before deciding that a meal out would be nicer; and took to staying out until late evening; only coming home to sleep for a few hours before leaving once again for work.

Tiffany had a brief release from the monotony when the kids came home for the Summer holidays. For a week, she took them out for days at the seaside, visited a couple of museums, a fun fair, and went swimming in the garden pool. Jeff was also on his best behaviour when the kids were home. They were just like any other ordinary happy family. But it was short-lived, as Jeff sent them to summer camp for the remainder of their summer holiday.

By mid summer, Tiffany had begun to lighten her cleaning routine. Sometimes staying in bed until 3 in the afternoon, watching daytime TV chat shows, she did nothing more than a brief tidy up. She made the bed, then moved to the kitchen. If the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes from the previous few days, she would do the washing up. Leaving everything to drip-dry on the draining board. Jeff had bought her a new dishwasher earlier in the year when he saw the dishes mounting up in the sink; thinking it would encourage her to keep the dishes washed. But Tiffany never used it. She simply couldn't be bothered to load and unload the thing, and found it quicker to just do them all in the sink.

However, Tiffany did keep the work surfaces clean... just in case she needed to prepare any food. But she no longer cleaned the cooker, grill or microwave. So it was somewhat fortunate that she rarely used them any more.

After the kitchen, her routine took her on a quick exploration of the other rooms, where the sum of her efforts merely involved picking up anything that was out of place and shoving it in the nearest drawer or cupboard.

Hoovering was reduced to only such times as when the place looked really dirty, or she was expecting visitors to turn up. Dusting, or cleaning anything else, was simply overlooked.

Weekends became difficult. Unless Jeff decided to go and play golf, or Tiff went to see her sister, they had to endure each other for two whole days. At first, polite conversation turned to arguments, which then on occasion, and perhaps, accidentally, turned violent. On one such occasion, Tiff ended up with a black eye; and Jeff almost knocked himself out when he lunged at Tiff and missed; cracking his head on the edge of the wardrobe.

The only time that Tiff got some peace at the weekend, was when Jeff spent the day pottering around in the garden. Despite all those initial months keeping the home spotless, she never dared interfere with the garden. That was always Jeff's domain. And anyway, she didn't know the first thing about plants, and was scared of spiders. So the thought of even getting something out of the shed was too terrifying to contemplate.

Then one Friday morning in Autumn, the tension finally snapped when Tiffany decided to ask Jeff for some housekeeping money as he was leaving for work.

That Friday, Jeff worked late then went to the pub with some work colleagues. His colleagues left at around 8pm. But Jeff was reluctant to go home and face the music. He walked to another pub that did evening meals, and ordered steak and chips. He picked at the food for some time and gazed into his glass of beer, before finally eating the last few ice cold chips and finishing his beer.

He went to the bar for a re-fill and was trying to attract the barmaid's attention when the man next to him touched his shoulder. "Hey! It's Jeff isn't it?" The man said with a smile.

Jeff looked at him quizzically.

"Don't you remember? I was at your wedding reception. I used to work with Tiffany. The name's Dave."

"Sorry, Dave, I didn't recognise you. It's been a while and I only met you the once. Are you still working at the same place?"

"Yes, still there. We miss Tiff, you know. She quite often comes up in conversation. How is she?"

"She's fine, Dave. We're really happy and trying for our first child together. In fact I'm taking her away for a surprise break in Skye on Sunday. A secluded cottage by the sea. Just to get her in the mood. You know how it is." Laughed Jeff.

"Yes, the pressures of work and married life, eh? We just had our second a few months ago. A little boy. I'm well excited. My daughter is four now. She's lovely, but I always wanted a son. To play football with ... you know."

The barmaid interrupted... "What can I get you?" she asked.

"Hey, can I get you a beer, Dave?

"Sure, why not?" smiles Dave. "I'll get the next one!"

Jeff orders two beers. The two men take their drinks to a nearby table and sit down. Before long they are chatting about all kinds of things and the time passes all too quickly.

"Last Orders!" Shouts the landlord at last.

Dave is startled and begins to look a bit worried. "Well it's been great catching up with you, Jeff. But the Mrs will kill me when I get home. I'm not usually this late."

"Oh, I'm really sorry, Dave. I didn't mean to keep you from your dear wife. I hope she's not too hard on you."

"The fault is entirely mine. I just lost track of the time. Oh my God! I've had my phone switched off as well. I bet I've got at least 10 missed calls. She'll be livid! Look, I must dash. I'll be in touch though."

Dave put on his coat that was hanging over the back of his chair and shook Jeff's hand. "You and Tiff must come round to ours for dinner soon."

"Yes, that would be cool, Dave. See ya!"

Dave left the pub. Jeff glanced around the room. Only a couple of other people still remained. Jeff finished up his beer and put on his coat.

Out in the fresh night air, the onset of winter was becoming evident. The office car park was only five minutes walk away, but Jeff knew that he wasn't in a fit state to drive. He paused for a few moments to examine the traffic up and down the street. There was very little. Had he seen a taxi at that moment he may not have considered walking home.

The walk home would take about an hour, but Jeff was in no rush. Anyhow, the fresh air would help to sober him up. He would need all his faculties for dealing with Tiff when he got home.

As the walk progressed, Jeff took in the sights and sounds of the city. This was something that driving never allows for. He was surprised to hear distant animal calls and tried to visualise what kind of animals they were. There were definitely some domestic pets of course, but there were also some that were unrecognisable. In between those were many voices. Some were joyful, but others involved shouting and sounds of fighting. Sounds that he had become somewhat accustomed to in recent months.

He heard music too. Dance music flowing from the various nightclubs and late bars. Occasionally he would pass one that sounded a little different; more powerful and immediate. He hadn't noticed the difference before. What he was hearing on those occasions was live music. The sound of crashing cymbals and drums. Electric guitars, and vocals that could be heard above the noise of the crowds gathering outside.

He thought about going into one of the clubs till the early hours, but that would only give him the excuse to get more intoxicated and less able to face the music. He continued on his way home.

Eventually he approached his driveway, then suddenly realised that the remote control for the gates was still in his car. "Dammit!" he thought. He checked his key ring. Luckily he still had the key to the back gate on it. He began the extra long walk around the house to the back gate.

As he passed the side of the house, he noticed that there were no lights on, and all appeared very quiet. He thought that rather strange, as Tiff nearly always left the hall and kitchen lights on. Once at the back gate, he looked up at the bedroom windows. All was dark and quiet. He looked at his watch; 12:40am. That'll be it, he thought. She'll be fast asleep in bed by now.

He tried the French Windows ... Locked. He went to the back door that leads into the utility room ... Locked. He began to curse himself for not putting the other keys on his keyring too. There was nothing for it, he had to go through the garden and back round to the front of the house. The security lights and his CCTV system, followed his movements. Eventually he was able to let himself in at the front door.

He switched on the light in the entry hall and saw Tiff's face staring sternly at him from the foot of the stairs. She didn't say a word. she just looked at him angrily. "Oh! Hi Tiff!" he exclaimed. "Sorry I'm so late. I thought you'd be fast asleep in bed by now!"

Tiff continued to stare.

Jeff looked away and began to make his way down the hall. "I'm just going to make some tea, then I'll be up to bed" he said.

Still silence.

"She must be really mad at me" he thought. Jeff put the kettle on. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Tiff's hand waving at him from down the hall. "So she's giving me the silent treatment" he said under his breath. "Well two can play at that game!"

Jeff took his tea into the living room and sat down on the sofa. He could see beneath the swing doors into the dining room that Tiffany was seated at the dining table. Her two feet, with fluffy pink open-toed slippers were sat at the head of the table. "What is she playing at?" he wondered.

After 15 minutes with neither of them moving or speaking, Jeff decided to make himself a sandwich. He took his empty cup back into the kitchen and looked into the fridge. "Well, whaddya know! Tiff made a packed lunch for me this morning! I'll have that!" Jeff took out the sandwiches wrapped in tin foil, and unwrapped them...

They were covered in green mould. "Ugh! ... I didn't realise it had been that long since I ate a packed lunch!" Jeff threw them straight in the bin and looked in the freezer compartment. A frozen curry stared back at him.

"Ah! That'll do!"

The inside of the microwave was disgusting. Tiff obviously hadn't bothered cleaning it for months. Jeff pierced the plastic film that covered the meal, and placed it in the centre of the microwave with extended fingertips, whilst trying not to touch the residue on the door, or sides of the oven. He set the timer for 6 minutes and glanced through the end door that leads into the snug.

The plush, high-backed, swivel-rocking chair was facing away from him; looking out into the garden, but he spotted Tiff's hand on the arm of the chair. "Why hasn't she gone up to bed yet?" he wondered. A few moments later, Jeff could stand the silence no longer, and yelled at her through the kitchen door.

"Come on, Tiff! I know you're probably very angry or upset. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that this morning but I've had a really bad week at work and you took me by surprise. I'm so sorry. Won't you speak to me .... please!"

Still silence.

Then the microwave pinged.

Jeff took out his snack, shook it, and put it back in for another 3 minutes. Glancing back over to the chair, he saw that Tiff still hadn't moved. "OK, well if you're going to be like that, I'll just leave you to it and I'll spend the night in the Granny Flat"

Jeff stared at Tiff's hand, expecting some kind of

response. Seemingly ages went by, but there was nothing.

Then the microwave pinged again.

"OK, well I'm going to eat this in the Annexe. Don't forget to switch the lights off when you go up to bed. If you don't see me at breakfast, I'll be in the garden cutting the remains of that ash tree down."

The Annexe was built onto the side of the house. It wasn't something that Jeff needed, it just came with the house. It had it's own private access from the back door through the utility room. It had been useful on the odd occasion when guests came to stay, which was very rare these days. Jeff had even thought about renting it out as a holiday home, but he didn't need the money. He left it fully equipped and self-contained, just in case his parents needed looking after one day.

Jeff went through and sat down in front of the TV to eat his curry. The channel was close to the end of a 1960's B-movie that he vaguely remembered seeing as a kid. Not that he was a 60's child. He grew up in the late 70's and early 80's, but a lot of those old films were repeated late at night; and in his teens, he used to have a few mates round till late into the night. They drank home brew and watched the TV in his bedroom till the early hours, giggling at the cheap visual effects and tame gory details of the old Sci-fi and horror films.

He just finished eating his curry at the same time as the end credits rolled. Leaving the plastic packaging on the coffee table, he switched off the TV and retired to the adjacent bedroom.

CHAPTER 3 WILL FOLLOW SHORTLY - Or you can purchase the book from the 17stories website for only £1. Artwork and music soundtrack is also available.