She watched them, hand in hand, as slowly they walked up the long drive, then the steps, taking them carefully one at a time. Eddy was the fitter of the two, his tall sprightly frame holding up that of his wife. They passed their bungalow and headed towards her.

Annabelle, although pleased to see them, felt that this extra effort puffing up the steps was for her, they were far too polite to simply wave and go into their home. Their brand of civility insisted they talk to her. Annabelle hated to intrude on them, they were exactly how she hoped to be in old age – secure in each other’s company and comfortably off so that money would never need to be a worry.

Gertrude and Eddy Wiltshire smiled at her, their rosy cheeks flushed with the long walk from the fishing village back to their bungalow. "You sure you won’t come in dear," asked Gertrude, peering keenly at Annabelle. "You look awfully peekly, do say you’ll pop in for a spot of tea."

"She said no dear, let her be."

"Oh hush Ed, I’m just being sociable, that’s all, if one can’t be sociable what is the world coming to that’s what I say."

Eddy Wiltshire rolled his eyes. "Oh, you’ll be the death of me woman, the death of me."

"Thanks really, but I’ve got some stuff to do," lied Annabelle, sensing that Eddy did not, despite his charm, want company.

"Well, goodbye dear, we’d best get on," said Eddy, gently pulling his wife after him, giving a conspiratorial wink, "the old dear has to drink her arsenic before bedtime."

She watched them walk away, the supportive manner in which Eddy walked his wife back down the steps, his arm around her, talking to her all the way.

Now that’s what love was all about, when the passion and excitement was gone – companionship.

Annabelle smiled. It was hard for her to imagine her generation settling down with a life partner like that. We are all, Annabelle concluded critically, all so fickle in comparison to the Wiltshire’s generation – the least thing and we flit away onto the next project, person, sensation – everything is just so easy now. Too easy. Annabelle laughed quietly to herself, she was getting old thinking like this, she shook her head dismissively.

Slowly, she walked into her one bedroom bungalow, reassured by the waves that crashed onto the beach beyond. It was high summer. The best time of year for the island and for Annabelle with two weeks off from work, and no Clark to get under her feet it was absolute bliss. Now with her holiday rapidly disappearing, with a week already gobbled up, Annabelle was reluctant to even think about returning to the city and the problems that awaited her, but deep down inside, she knew she had to face them.

She headed for the kitchen, switched the kettle on and then meandered out into the conservatory that looked out onto Baiter Island.

She could see Newson's Forest from here as well as the market tower, the church steeple and the glittering boats in the new marina that had just been built further off in the distance, opposite the forest.

She breathed in the fresh cool air and closed her eyes.

Now this was what holidays were supposed to be.

She relished every second of it – far away from London and her everyday job dealing with everyday problems. But Clark, her boyfriend just did not understand. He had no concept of needing to get away somewhere quieter, more relaxed. He was a party animal, a creature of the city whose idea of a day off was to go clubbing somewhere equally as noisy. Annabelle pondered this for some moment, her unease with the conclusions she was gradually making, but aware that here – on this island, she had nowhere else to run. She had come here for the sole purpose of relaxing and thinking about her future.

At thirty-five it was not so much that her biological clock was ticking. Annabelle had never really had any interest in kids, indeed the thought filled her with mild irritation, the idea that if you were a woman you were somehow supposed to yearn to be as fat as an elephant for nine months, break water, wind and blood, to give birth to a new life whom you would then have to nurture until at least the age of 16. And for what?

Annabelle was unable to answer this question and had decided that until she could, there would be no children. In Clark she had found, or thought she had found a likeminded soulmate and a wonderful union had insued for three years. She enjoyed the cut and thrust of city life and her job as a Senior Housing Advisor for a local council. It had up until now provided her with all the challenges she required but recently, those challenges were becoming headaches and she dreamed more and more of Baiter.

She had discovered Baiter years before she had met Clark, falling upon the island by chance when she was travelling around England with some college friends and fallen in love with the island immediately. She had sworn that once she could get some money together she would buy somewhere on the island. It would be her haven from the madness of the city.

Annabelle smiled feeling proud. That goal at least had been achieved.

Of course, when she met Clark and he found out about the island he thought it a waste of money - unless she was going to rent it out when she wasn’t there. The idea had appalled her, the thought of others walking through her home, touching objects – her objects.

"But what’s the point of having it, you hardly ever go there!" he had said in exasperation, a deep frown curtaining his face.

"That’s not the point, it's mine – and I want it to stay just as it is," she had responded defensively.

"Yeah, all right, keep your hair on, I’m simply saying it could be generating a bit of income for you rather than sitting there empty like that – that’s all."

"Well, I don’t want to do that – ok."

And there the matter had ended. The bungalow was hers, not his. Never would be his.

She had made this clear – aware slowly that all he cared about was money, it's acquisition and then how it could best be spent - well not her home.

Annabelle had booked two weeks away without consulting him or inviting him to come with her to the island, slowly the message was sinking in, it was over but was she really ready to put an end to three years of him and her or was she being selfish?

Annabelle believed she and Clark had changed too much, grown apart - whatever you wanted to call it, they just didn’t seem to work anymore, both wanting different things.

The noise broke into Annabelle’s thoughts, it was a low moan followed by a scream, she frowned realizing gradually that it was coming from the Wiltshire’s bungalow next door.

Slowly she walked to the edge of her conservatory, peaking through a break in the fencing and saw them, the adorable couple, fighting, physically fighting like cat and dog in the garden and her mouth opened in wide surprise.

"Well, what do you know," she whispered gently.

**

The doorbell rang the next day during her afternoon siesta.

Still groggy from sleep she pulled on a slight silk bathrobe and padded to the front door.

She flushed immediately, "Eddy.

"

"Hello dear, you sound surprised," chirped Eddy, his eyes full of mischief. "You expecting someone else were you?" he said gently, his voice teasing.

Annabelle brightened with embarrassment even further as she tightened the flimsy robe around her body. "No, no, I was just – sleeping, not expecting anybody really," she shut up then aware that she was rambling.

"Well, anyhow, I wanted to give you these, I was out in the garden doing my planting and found we had far too many tomatoes that we could use, thought you might like em, do some salads and such like with them."

"Oh, thank you," Annabelle could not rid herself of the image; Eddy and Gertrude at it like daggers as they fought and clawed. It embarrassed her remembering it, how Eddy had fallen to the floor and in triumph Gertrude had swept back into the house, leaving Eddy on the floor on the grass, still wet from a light shower of rain, dabbing his face with a tattered bit of tissue paper, his face bloody.

She had felt so sorry for him then. Who would have thought old Gerty had it in her?

She had slipped away from the window as Eddy looked up, it was as if he sensed he was being watched – in the shadows she had continued to look as Eddy stared back in the direction of her bungalow, his eyes searching for something before he had abandoned his search, and with much effort, risen to his feet and slowly walked back into the house, closing the door behind him and drawing the curtains.

How bizarre. How embarrassing.

Annabelle had the feeling afterwards that she should have done something, called someone - but why? It had been a private argument between a married couple, but still she was uncomfortable, aware that if it had been Gerty on the floor, nursing a broken lip and Eddy striding back into the house, she would have felt compelled to do something.

"You alright dear, felt I lost you for a minute there," said Eddy, grinning.

"Oh – no, sorry, I was miles away, I mean, well-" Annabelle became even more flustered.

"It’s alright dear don’t you worry," Eddy assured her as if he knew what was bothering her, he handed over the tomatoes wrapped in newspapers and then made to turn, as an afterthought looking back at Annabelle.

"Your Clark not with you this time then?"

"No," Annabelle distractedly pulled her auburn hair from her eyes. "The sea air doesn’t appear to agree with him," she said, keeping a straight face.

"Oh right, I see."

"Well, I’d better get back to the good lady wife. She will be out with a search party soon if I’m not checking in."

Annabelle stood uneasily on the doorstep.

"She does go on a bit but I do love the old cow – ‘cow’ being an affectionate term for her.

She’s going over to her sister tomorrow so I’m setting up a bit of a surprise for her for when she gets back."

"Oh yes," Annabelle’s interest was piqued, perhaps this was Eddy’s way of making up for that frightful argument she had witnessed. She smiled, oddly relieved.

"Yes, don’t tell her mind, but I’m going to install a whole set of kitchen units for her.

We went to the local DIY store the other day, took a look at one of those showrooms and she near enough fell in love with one particular style. Well, I did something outrageous," Eddy

came forward as if about to share a secret.

Annabelle raised her eyebrows, enjoying his banter. "What was that?"

"I bought the lot – all those units – and at a bargain cos I’m going to install it myself rather than have some workmen trampling around doing it. Should keep me occupied while she’s away."

"That’s a lovely thought Eddy. How long is she away for?"

"A good week."

"Oh, that is a shame, I won’t see her when she gets back, I’m leaving in three days."

"Don’t you worry – I will send on your regards, now I’d better get off before Gertrude gets suspicious, seeing me out here talking to a pretty young woman she’ll only get ideas."

Annabelle watched him hurry down the path; he suddenly seemed so lonely - so vulnerable.

Without thinking, she called out, "Eddy!"

He turned his face, for a second flecked with worry. "Yes dear?"

"I tell you what, I’ll pop over and see the units before I go, maybe we can have a drink to christen them, how about that?"

He seemed to Annabelle to think about this for some time before responding."Yes – yes all right then, see you in a few days."

**

Annabelle spent those days resting and catching up on her reading.

All the books she had ever wanted to read she had stuffed unceremoniously into a suitcase, they were now stacked up in a neat pile by the sofa – opposite the breath taking view of the sea and the peach red sunsets that ended each day on the island.

She had refused to purchase a TV, so that there would be no distractions. The only allowance she had made was a portable radio and her mobile phone. The mobile she turned on once, each evening just to check if Clark had left a message, but he never had.

It was this, and the space to think, that finally brought her mind to a decision that she knew in her heart she had already made.

Only here on the island had she finally gathered the courage to face up to the truth.

Her relationship had come to an end.

Clark might not be aware of it as yet, happy to plod along as two separate entities sometimes meeting up in the middle but she needed, wanted more.

Annabelle had waited for the tears as this realization hit her, but there was only a great sense of relief; a great weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.

When she returned to London, she would tell him and start her life anew.

She doubted he would be surprised, perhaps like her; he would be relieved – seeing it as inevitable. She could already imagine what he might say. "Well, its part of the learning cycle, no harm done, we’re adults after all."

With a bright step she knocked on the Wiltshire’s front door as promised, three days later.

**

Eddy was covered in plaster; his eyes seemed heavy, as if he had secured little sleep.

"Hi there, here’s the champagne, how’s it going?" Annabelle said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Its coming on quite well but it’s not really ready yet," Eddy didn’t open the door, he seemed to be unwilling to let her in.

Annabelle hid her surprise, smiling. "So, how far have you got then?"

He seemed to be in turmoil, his face a collision of varying emotions that Annabelle could not read, then reluctantly he opened the door. "Well, come in, excuse my manners – I got a lot on my mind, it actually turned out to be far harder than I had imagined it would be. That surprised me really; I used to be in the building trade you know. Had my own small company for a while, before Gertrude talked me in to jacking it in to settle up here on the island."

Annabelle stood transfixed on the threshold of the kitchen."Why, it's absolutely beautiful Eddy."

And it was. Marble tops, gold rims and an elaborate floral design, not her kind of style but never the less, very fetching. "You should be proud of this, I can’t see any problem," Annabelle began to twist the champagne cork. "Here goes then."

This would be a celebration of the knew kitchen and also the start of a new beginning for her, what better way than with champagne, she thought.

"Here, let me," said Eddy, gently taking it from her hands.

"Thank you, may I have a look?"

"Of course, that’s why you here isn’t it?" Annabelle was thrown by the sharpness in his voice. This really was a different Eddy. He must have seen her surprise for her grinned widely. "Don’t pay me any mind Annabelle, to be honest, its been a bit rough without Gerty, missed her more than I’d expected that’s all."

"Well, that’s love!"

"Yes,"said Eddy, his attention drawn to opening the bottle.

Annabelle walked over to the units, caressed the smooth surfaces, marveling at the effort it must have exacted to complete such a project in only three days.

"There you go," Eddy handed her a large glass.

Taking it with thanks Annabelle heard the faint buzzing and looked around, locating the origin of the noise. It was coming from the oven.

"So how has your holiday been?" said Eddy, his face restored to the old Eddy she remembered, jovial, pleasant, warm.

"Wonderful. It’s been perfect, gave me time to do a lot of thinking."

"Really."

Annabelle frowned. "There a strange noise coming from your oven Eddy, it sounds like… like some kind of fly is trapped in there."

Before Eddy could reply she opened the new shiny oven door.

Then she screamed.

**

"I am so sorry Eddy, I was just taken so by surprise."

Eddy chuckled good naturedly. "Think nothing of it."

"It’s just seeing all those flies, yuck, disgusting – how on earth could they have got there?"

"Beats me, but it must have been the way I did the plumbing, I’ll sort it out tomorrow. I’m the one that’s sorry it gave you such a funny turn."

"They were blue bottles, disgusting. I remember when I was a kid and my mother would take me to the market every weekend to get meat. All those flies hovering around the dead flesh, it was vile…" Annabelle stopped talking aware that Eddy had gone very quiet. Maybe he wanted her to go. Screaming like that and spilling drink all over her skirt and the kitchen floor in her fright, she felt ridiculous.

"Well look, I’d better get back, clean up – sorry about the mess and you take care. Give Gertrude my love won’t you?"

"I’ll do that," said Eddy, seeing her to the door.

**

"Well the holiday was obviously fantastic, you look really refreshed Annabelle."

Annabelle beamed at the compliment, she did feel a lot better and when she had confronted Clark, he had been more than happy to call it quits. Secretly the ease with which he had given up piqued her slightly, but her resolution was, new beginnings and so it would be.

She leaned back in her chair looking out of her office window, at the spiraling mass of humanity below her. All those people, all those lives, forever running and now she was one of them again. Her short respite at an end. While she had been on the island she had begun to think how nice it would be never to leave. To be able to wake up every morning to that sunrise, to that view and the idea had excited her. Still did.

Annabelle turned to her best friend, Jackie. "Jack, this is going to sound crazy but I’m thinking of quitting."

Jackie Attard, her brown eyes dancing smiled "So tell me something I don’t know – I knew it would be on the cards as soon as I saw the bungalow for myself last summer."

"You did?" Annabelle was surprised.

"Sure – what will you do for money?"

Annabelle sighed. "Well mum’s Will left me quite well off and I’ve saved up quite a bit so I think I can manage if I can get a little part-time job just to keep me going."

"And then what will you do, you might get bored?"

"Never! I will write that book I always talked about."

Jackie smiled. "Oh yes, the famous unwritten book of the evils of modern living."

"You may jest but it’s my dream, Jack."

"No, I’m not teasing, I’m envious, I think you should go for it."

"Really?"

"Yes – really – and anyhow, I can have your job then," she purred wickedly.

Annabelle threw a pen at her and they both laughed. "You know what my ideal is?"

"No, go on, confound me."

"Living to old age on that island, happy and content, like my neighbors, the Wiltshire’s."

"Oh yes, I remember, that awfully sweet couple I met last year."

Annabelle shifted in her seat wondering if she should tell her about the bizarre scene in the garden, then thinking better of it, it was private, obviously resolved now. Why shatter an illusion.

"Yes, you know old Mr. Wiltshire – Eddy he was doing the sweetest thing when I was preparing to leave. Gertrude had gone to her sisters for a few days so as a surprise he had completely redone their kitchen in a style he knows she adores."

"Now that is romance, doing DIY without being nagged!" applauded Jackie.

"The only thing was, there were these hideous blue bottles stuck in the oven, it was gross, but I’m sure he’s sorted that out now, poor dear."

"Blue bottles?"

"Yes"

Jackie made a face. "They got a cat or dog that might have killed something…. like a bird or a squirrel?"

Annabelle leaned on her desk staring at her friend bewildered. "Not that I know of, why?"

"Well, it’s just that blue bottles are usually only around dead decaying stuff ..."

Jackie shook her head, chewing her pen in thought. "Why should blue bottles be in an oven, and a brand new one at that? Annabelle - Annabelle are you all right, you’ve gone awfully pale, are you sickening for something?"

**

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