Page 45;
He
climbed the stairs, slowly one by one, he wasn’t really looking forward to
seeing his wife stone cold dead in their bed, but he couldn’t put it off any
longer, it had to be done. He reached the top of the stairs and then stepped
into their bedroom and then froze in his tracks just inside the doorway. What the hell, he thought to himself, what the hell’s going on?
For the moment all he could do was
to just stand and stare at the bed, and try to make some sort of sense out of
what he was seeing.
The bed was empty, his wife was no
longer there, yes the bed clothes were covered with drying vomit, and urine,
but that was the only evidence of last night’s events.
Maybe,
he had only thought she had been dead, last night and she wasn’t really, maybe
she had only passed out or something and then woke up later when he had been
asleep, in which case where was she now, and would she remember that he had
tried to murder her? And if she had remembered he had tried to murder her maybe
she was at the police station right now, or maybe she had gone running over to
Paul’s house and told him that he, her husband had tried to murder her, that he
her husband had tried to make her choke on her own vomit?
All these thoughts were running
through his mind, one thing was for sure, he couldn’t continue on with his
plan, after all how could he phone 999 and say my wife is dead in bed, when she
wasn’t even there?
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