I remember when it all started when I was twenty three a young slender shape a sleek golden hair my life looked promising fresh from university I had ambitions and zest for life. My ambitions were ruined when my parents met Lacey’s family, over a while they became friends; a marriage was set up by Lacey’s parents and mine. I was to be given to Lacey as a way of encouraging Lacey’s father a cold hearted man to merge with my fathers business. I was a business deal a simple go between. To make things worse Lacey didn’t want to fork out for a proper wedding, “far too expensive he would say just for a church and a namby pamby vicar.” We got married in a registry office, stains stuck to the carpet a sickly yellow, and paint peeling of the walls. Lacey was delighted he though it was perfect for such a good little girl like me and so cheap to.
From then on he had clung to me like glue, driving me to despair with his annoying questions and stupid unceasing comments. He was incapable of showing kindness and generosity was for other people not lacey, he had his own little allowance for each day, not a penny over he would say.
“We have got to be careful he carried on not like that greedy daughter of the Joneses that dress for her birthday was probably far to expensive I should think.”
I hadn’t received a birthday gift in all eleven years of marriage. The wedding gifts had been sold,
“You have got to be careful you never know when you may need the money”
Lacey was more likely to be struck by lightning than spend money on me.
He never showed are relationship in front of anyone else that would be to emotional, the real reason I think is because people would question our marriage, “where did that ugly little wimp get such a beauty from?”
Earlier in the day we had visited a tobacconist, as usual he tried one of his stupid jokes, and yet again failing to get anything more than a confused look. The shop itself was a small dingy place overlooking the sea my nose protesting under the smell
The wooden walking sticks were really of fine quality though; I imagined the hard work that had gone in to them. Anger rose inside me as Lacey wondered around criticism on this small boyish face.
To my annoyance he exclaimed “they are a bit overpriced.” The shopkeeper looked a bit hurt a small man with a bald head, but a kind expression used to glow on his face before Lacey had gone a step further on his quest for world misery.
We left the shop and went to the other tobacconist. This one was much more commercial with the premises being larger and more modern. These walking sticks however were not a patch on the fine workmanship of the others, dusty thin things but they were cheaper and to Lacey that was all that mattered.
Once he had brought the stick (the cheapest most ragged thing he could find) he swung it round with enjoyment catching other tourists by surprise as the thin stick tickled the hairs on their faces. He pelted her with comments like “had she noticed how he had picked the best one in the shop”
My mouth suddenly filled with a putrid taste as Lacey’s ego rose up into heaven. We walked up the cliff right up to the highest point where the samphire he had seen the day before laid, a miserable plant its leaves far from fleshy, ragged and torn in the harsh wind.
My anger was beyond normal levels now, he needed to be stopped, their his little head peered over the side trying to reach the samphire leaning further and further over, here was my chance, my arms thrust out hitting him in the back like a shotgun, a pack of raging bulls, his face turned in shock as he was bowled over the cliff out of my life…
