I stood over the sink peeling onions the syn-propanethial-S-oxide reacted with my eyes. ‘Damn’ I said out loud. Tears were streaming down my face. I was preparing a casserole as a peace offering. Last night words had been exchanged and in the heat of the argument I had said things which I now regret. Emily stormed out of the house at four in the morning. I feared the neighbours had heard everything; their looks this morning spoke volumes. Emily and I rarely argue but recently things had become difficult.

There was emptiness in my life when she was not around. I phoned in sick this morning; I needed to be here when she returned. I placed the casserole in the oven. The table was set with a posy of flowers and two candles. The room was perfect all I had to do was wait. She would return I knew it. She could never stay mad for any length of time.
I returned to the kitchen and sat down. I thought about Emily and why she meant so much to me. A ring at the door forced its way into my thoughts. I turned and looked in the direction of the door. A tension gripped my stomach muscles; she never left without her keys. I saw a figure framed in the glass of the door it wasn’t her. I opened the door to see a man looking very solemn.

‘Good evening,’ he said.

‘Good evening,’ I replied, ‘can I help you?’

‘May we come in?’

I looked puzzled I couldn’t see anyone else. Another person stepped into the pool of light from the hall, a woman in uniform. I stood to one side as they entered.

‘Has something happened?’ I asked.

‘Could we sit down somewhere?’ he asked.

As if in slow motion I showed them into the sitting room. He sat on the sofa and I on a chair but the woman in uniform stood. He was saying something about Emily; a crash on the A44; a fatal crash; he was sorry; was there anyone he could contact. The words became a jumbled mess, the room started swimming. I was given a glass of water.
‘Mr Jones I need to know when you last saw Emily,’ I was stunned, I could not answer. I looked from him to the woman knowing whatever I said could be incriminating.
After awhile they left. I was all alone. The smell of the casserole filled the air. I felt empty inside. She would never return. I would never hear her voice or laughter again. I never had a chance to say sorry.

The atlas fell open at Worcester.