What Women Want

When a relationship comes to an end, the man finds another woman while the woman finds herself.

It was the best kind of English summer’s day—blue sky with puffs of cloud chased across it by a light wind. Sitting in the pub garden at a table in the shade of a whispering beech tree with a bowl of soup, a chunk of crusty bread and a glass of lager, the world seemed a better place.

Her mother's words rushed into her head: 'Sarcasm is not the finest form of wit, especially for you, Bea.'

As the plane flew through turbulence, Bea clutched the arms of her seat. (...) She shut her eyes, trying to pretend that she was in a rocking chair, a very unsteady one.

Knots of disaffected youth hung about on corners, shouting and smoking, but to her relief, none of them appeared to notice her. For once, she thanked the Lord for the anonymity bestowed by middle age.

He would never try to get Ben in a heart-to-heart. They were alike in that way. Better to brush anything emotional under the carpet and carry on without making things worse or more uncomfortable by talking about them.

Do you know, we stayed together for almost fifteen years? That's nearly as long as a minimum life sentence for murder.

Every wrinkle tells a story; they just need careful managing.