Unexpected
Terry Aspinall
© Copyright 2004 by Terry Aspinall
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying) recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
ISBN : 9781301626137
Published by Terry Aspinall.
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[email protected] Introduction
John is in a great relationship with his partner until the day she disappears. His friends and the locals turn against him, thinking that he has done something wrong. Luckily he befriends somebody who takes him for who he is. However, he is in for a shock and an ending that he did not expect.
short story
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locals or events is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1.Broken Heart.
Chapter 2. Scissors.
Chapter 3. Decisions.
Other titles by this author
Chapter 1
Brocken Heart
It being Friday night I once again found myself pushing a shopping trolley around the local supermarket. It had become one of my weekly tasks, more by bad luck than by a democratic decision. Another of those decisions that I was assigned was to carry the list of basic items that we were searching, in order that we might survive the following week.
Anne my live in girl friend was ahead of me selecting from the shelves most of the items that we required. Whenever possible I would occasionally point her towards items of interest as we made our way down the aisles. Sometimes a slight discussion took place, and if we require the item, she would pick it up and toss it into the trolley. She also had a keen eye for spotting the bargain of the week. In addition to this, she would always be on the lookout for that little extra item that shoppers always manage to pick up, and in doing so would usually make the store owners very happy. At times I had the distinct feeling that my contribution to each discussion was not really required as I would always be proven wrong, and she would take the item that she first chose.
We were participating in a routine that we had developed together over the past three years. In fact, we were so regular that you could set your watch by us, arriving at the store around 5 pm.
I have to point out that from my point of view, I considered that our relationship was one that I thought had been made in heaven and I adored every inch of her slender young body. I loved watching her as she pranced along the shopping aisles going from shelf to shelf. I liked the way she picked up each item and read the labels before usually consulting me as to whether we should have a particular brand or not. However, I always agreed never wanting to make her wrong. I felt like I was allowing her to show off her feminine side to all who were interested in the shop. Then again, I guess you could say that I was possessive and that I did not want to share her with anybody. To which I would have to raise my hand and say yes. After all, who in his or her right mind would want to share such a beautiful person with anybody? I considered myself the lucky person who had been dealt the beautiful hand that was Anne, and I was not going to do anything to jeopardise our relationship. There was no way that I would want her to leave me, and by the same token so why would I want to share her with anybody.
Occasionally she would stop and laugh at me as I would dance to the piped music that filled the shop. Where upon a few of the shoppers who were watching wished they had the nerve to do the same. Then there were the times that I would jump up and place my feet on top of the trolley wheels in an effort to steal a ride down the aisles. She would always laugh at me, but inside she worried in case I lost my footing and crashed into one of the many food displays that cluttered up the aisle. In fact, this had happened to me just a few weeks earlier, and I had been forced to replace all of the cans of beans that I had scattered into every conceivable crevice of the shelving.
Anne and I had met quite by chance as I had returned to a shop in order that I might change an unwanted present that did not fit. She had been the girl at the checkout, and it being late in the day with not many people in the shop. A conversation had developed between us ending with her accepting a date with me the next weekend.
Anne was a beautiful looking young girl, in her early twenties with a small petite face and long blond hair. There had certainly been an attraction at first sight for the both of us, as we began a whirlwind romance. Then after a few months of courtship, she moved in to my flat with me. We had mentioned marriage during those early days, however after some time together, the idea was somehow dropped. I think it was because of the way we were living. We carried on just like any other happily married couple. We went everywhere, and did everything together. Always with a laugh, and as far as I can remember we never had a row or a single bad word for each other. Why would we want to change it? That old saying if it works leave it alone.
As we made our way down the breakfast cereal aisle, Anne suddenly, remember that she had not picked up a jar of marmalade. Remembering that it was positioned back in the area where the customers first enter the shop. She told me that she would pop back and grab a jar, while I waited where I was.
After waiting around for several minutes I decided to make my way back to the area where I knew Anne was heading. Upon arrival I became a little confused because I could not see her, then believing that I might have missed her as I walked along the bottom of the aisles, and that she might have walked along the top. I set off slowly making my way back to where we had parted company, all the time expecting to find her waiting for me. However, all that greeted me was a completely empty aisle. I then made my way along all the other aisles that we had not visited, but my efforts were in vain. By this time I was starting to worry as to what had happened to her. I left the trolley wedged up against the meat counter and retraced my footsteps from one end of the shop to the other, but there was still no sign of her. Then in a vain effort, I repeated the very same operation checking every aisle and corner leaving no area unchecked.
By this time I was very worried wondering what might have happened to her and where she might be. After all it could not be that bad, as I was only in a shop. It was not as if it was a nightclub or sleazy pub, for Christ sake it's just a damn supermarket.
I made my way towards the main checkout counter and asked the girl if she would give a message out on the loud speakers for me. To which she was very obliging and asked that if Anne was in the shop could she return to the counter where a distraught husband is missing her. The message had been given out in a tongue in cheek way, as the girl was always having a laugh with the customers. Only this time she knew she had said the wrong thing the moment she looked back at me, as by this time I was really getting worried. This was so uncharacteristic of Anne. Nothing like this had ever happen between us in the past.
I gave it five minutes and then pleaded with the girl to repeat the message, only this time she was a little more diplomatic, just simply asking if Anne could make her way to the checkout. A further five minutes and I was starting to shake in fear of what might have happened to her. I then asked the girl to direct me to the manager’s office, where I explained everything. The manager then instructed several of her workers to search the place from top to bottom, and after ten minutes all returned confirming that as far as they were concerned Anne was not on the property.
The manager then asked me for some identification of Anne and me. It was then that I remembered that I had left Anne’s handbag in the
trolley, and that the trolley was by the meat counter. We made our way to the trolley only to be further upset when I discovered that her bag had been stolen, or picked up, as the manager liked to call it. It was then that I asked the manager to call the police.
They were not much help only repeating what the store manager had already done for him. At least I could show them my identification as I had my wallet. The police went on to tell me that there was not much more that they could do. Until she had been missing for forty-eight hours and then she would only be listed as a missing person. They then started asking me the usual silly questions, like had we had a row in the last twenty-four hours. Were we happily married and the one that hurt the worse did she or I have a lover. The policeman looked at me as he asked the last question, and noticing the look on my face, he stopped me