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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1582360-Night-Shift
Rated: E · Fiction · Women's · #1582360
Short story - contemporary fiction

Night shift 070602

Breakfast used to be at seven as the soaps were starting.  Kerry and Paul would slurp down scalding hot coffee, and carry their toast and marmalade to the car.  Drive past the pubs as they filled with the evening crowd fresh from their offices, ready to watch the football or gossip with friends over a few drinks.  Still half asleep, Kerry would get out at the factory gate and walk to her work area in Security, leaving Paula to park up and join the rest of his shift. 

Kerry could see him sometimes on the cameras in the security control room; she never felt far away from him, even at four o’clock, the dead time, when the banter in the control room died away and the guards stood about silently, gulping coffee and putting off the next perimeter check.

Not any more.  Now she was on her own, more completely than before she’d met Paul – because back then she’d had day friends.

She might go into town later today – alone. 

She had lost him completely from her life.  There was no chance of bumping into him in the street, or meeting a mutual acquaintance.  Their lives from now on were to be completely separate.

She shook herself and made more coffee.  She knew she shouldn’t, but it was so hard to adjust.  And she felt really rough; her guts were upset by the change in her life.  She would go to the doctor’s next day, but for now, she just wanted to recover, to try to get over it.

She thought of Paul’s face, twisted with sorrow as he told her gently,” It has to be this way.  I’m sorry, love, but there’s no other solution.”  And then he’d gone, leaving her alone through the night.

She tried to think of a single friend she could call, but came up with no-one.  Her friends had drifted away when she moved in with Paul.  They’d told her it would never work out.  Now what would they say?

Again she shook her head.  This had to stop.  Life had to move on.  She had adjusted before and she would adjust again.  All it took was time.

She put her hand over her abdomen.  At least this time there would be plenty to keep her occupied.  And even though Paul worked the night shift and she, bound to antenatal classes and hospital appointments could not, she knew in her heart that they would find a way to work around it.  He would see he and the baby at her breakfast, before his bedtime, and at his breakfast, before hers.

This was just the first day.  Tomorrow would be easier.


© Copyright 2009 Hope Strong (hope_strong at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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