Fourteen Days(14)

“I haven’t been working every day.”

“Yes you have. Why do you think I got rid of the laptop?”

“That’s not just for work. We both use it.”

Nicky chuckled. “Yeah, right. If I can ever pry you away from it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, surfing the Internet on your days off is one thing, but you spend most of the time checking work stuff and finishing off reports. And e-mailing Leah.”

“That’s not true.” But he knew it was. And being cut off from his computer highlighted how much.

“Look, let’s not get into an argument now,” she said. “I’m sorry I brought it up and I’m sorry I teased you.”

He paused for a moment, and then placed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry too. Let’s just—”

The room filled with the deafening sound of the TV, with the volume to its maximum. They both jumped up in fright, covering their ears to block out the piercing noise.

“Turn it down!” he called out.

Grabbing the remote, she frantically pushed the volume control button and the sound vanished.

“What the hell,” he said. “That was weird.”

“Yeah, that was weird.”

“You must have sat on the remote or something.”

“Yeah. Or the button wasn’t pushed in.”

Richard turned to Nicky and smirked. “You shit yourself then. I bet you thought it was a ghost. Didn’t you? Admit it.”

“Don’t be stupid. It just made me jump a little.”

“Don’t lie,” he mocked, squeezing her leg. “You thought it was that ghost in the TV from Poltergeist, didn’t you?”

She shook her head. “Grow up, Rich—you’re the one afraid of ghosts.”

“Don’t like it when the shoe’s on the other foot, do you?”

“You’re being childish now.”

Richard got up from the couch. “You can dish it out, babe, but you can’t receive it, can you?”

Clearly irritated, she turned the TV volume up to a normal level.

Richard gave one last gloating smile and said, “Right, I’m off to bed—unless you need me to protect you?”

She grimaced. It seemed her patience was wearing thin. “Why? It’s still early. Don’t you want to watch that film?”

He shrugged. “No. I’m a bit tired.”

She pushed a button on the remote, and the TV screen faded. “All right. I’m ready for bed too.”

Richard turned off the living room lights as they left.



Nicky was sitting up in bed, reading her book, while Richard lay next to her, deep in thought.

She turned to him. “You all right?”

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“You just seem quiet. Is there something on your mind?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing—everything’s fine.”

“You sure?”

He forced a smile. “I’m fine, honestly. It’s just work and stuff. The usual.”

“Well, you have to try and block it out of your mind.”

“I know. But it’s hard. So many things to do when I get back.”

“Isn’t there something else you can focus on? Like seeing your friends or something? Or what you’re going to get me for Christmas?”

“It’s the middle of spring, babe. It’s a bit early to be dropping hints, don’t you think?”

She patted him on the chest, and then went back to her book. “It’s never too early to drop hints—especially when men are concerned.”

Rolling his eyes, he turned onto his side to go to sleep.

But as he listened to the scraping noise Nicky’s book made each time she turned a page, he knew that any hope of sleep was futile. The idea of having a stack of problems waiting for him when he returned was sure to keep him up for the next ten days.

And now he was seeing things in his kitchen.

Maybe I’m losing it…



The clock turned over to 4:08 a.m.

Richard witnessed it, just like he’d witnessed every other minute for the past four hours. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such a problem with insomnia. And then he did. It reminded him of the time back in college when Gary spiked his lager with amphetamines. He spent the entire night sitting up in bed, watching a Simpsons marathon, wondering why he couldn’t keep still, and why on earth his teeth were grinding together.