Carl waited, his back resting against a bill board and, as he waited, he looked down to where feet passed him by. Then he heard the light clip clop of footsteps and saw a pair of black patent boots going by.

Looking up, he saw the young woman heading for an estate agent's a few doors down. 'Fancy her do you?' Caught off guard, he met the dark, suspicious eyes of his wife. 'She's a tart,' Evelyn said in a hard edged voice, shoving her shopping bag at his chest.

Carl stepped to his car parked in a space for disabled drivers and threw the bag onto the back seat. Getting in, waiting for the passenger door to open and Evelyn's Rhino backside to descend onto the sagging seat beside him, he adjusted the invalid sticker his wife had lied through her teeth to obtain.

Slamming her door shut, she sat arms crossed over a well padded chest as Carl pulled away from the kerb and as he did so, he saw the young woman coming out of the estate agents accompanied by a tall, dark haired male companion.

As the couple got into a silver Mercedes, Evelyn said, 'I bet she's his bit on the side.'

Wordlessly, Carl slowed down letting an old man cross the road and the Mercedes, overtaking, had to swerve around the elderly pedestrian.

'Selfish bastard!' Evelyn declared with exaggerated indignation. 'Fancy car. No manners,' she added but Carl noticed that his wife hadn't spared a glance at the elderly gentleman bent over his walking stick.

A few minutes later, his wife waved to their next door neighbour waiting at the bus stop. Her smile was sweet, despite her remark, 'Don't know why Mrs. Redkin doesn't buy herself a car.'

'Perhaps we should offer Mrs. Redkin a lift?' Carl suggested, his gaze catching the glint of a silver key ring in his ignition, a reminder of the thank you gift their widowed neighbout had given him in return for his help after she'd locked herself out of her home.

At the time, concerned about his wife's reaction to the gift he refused but Mrs. Redkin insisted, saying her late husband Don had won it at a local darts championship just before he died. 'Found it on the road,' he'd lied to his sharp-eyed wife when he'd picked her up from her job at the meat packing factory. Fortunately, Evelyn accepted his mild untruth.

'The way that woman spends her money,' Evelyn broke into his thoughts. 'You'd think she could afford a taxi for goodness sake.'

'Last summer,' Carl reminded his wife. 'When you went into hospital to have your hernia done, Mrs. Redkin sent you flowers, chocolates and a Get Well card.' Omitting to add that his kind neighbour had cooked him a hearty meal every evening while Evelyn was away.

Soon they were travelling along the A48 and rounding a bend, Evelyn let out a shout, jabbing her stubby finger in the direction of a parked silver Mercedes belching out smoke. The young woman they'd seen earlier, stood on a stretch of grass while her companion paced up and down yelling into his mobile phone.

Slamming on his brakes, seeing flames licking out from under the bonnet, Evelyn screamed, 'Damn you! as she yo-yoed back and forth. Now Carl was undecisive. The initial urge to help diminished. 'Don't play the hero, Carl,' his wife warned as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

'What if it was you?' he asked.

Evelyn gave him a withering look and Carl, opening the car door, got out.'Come back here! he heard his wife screech but a surge of adrenalin had him sprinting towards the young woman looking very distresed.

As he approached, her companion shouted, 'My beautiful car! It's brand new!'

'Have you called the fire brigade?' Carl panted out his question in return.

'Of course I have, you idiot!' came the reply.

'My briefcase is in the car,' the young woman said, wringing her hands.

'Damn your briefcase!' her companion retorted.

And without thinking, Carl ran towards the Mercedes and wrenching the passenger door open, grabbed hold of the briefcase and racing back, gave it to the young woman.

Then, in the near distance, the sounds of sirens reached them and as they let out a unified sigh of relief, the Mercedes burst into flames.

Carl offered the young woman a lift. 'I'd better stay with my husband,' she said with an expression of soulful resignation; an expression Carl recognised.

'Good luck,' he called over his shoulder trudging back to his own car and getting inside, received a tirade of outrage from his wife and, when it came to an end, Evelyn muttered, 'Serves her right for stealing another woman's husband.'

'Actually,' Carl told her with a small degree of satisfaction. 'He's her husband.'

Huffing, Evelyn turned on the radio. And, glad that his wife was silent, Carl remembered when they first met. Recalled how pretty she'd looked. Glancing sideways, noting the deep line of discontent etched around her mouth, he wondered where that other person he'd married twenty odd years ago had gone.

As he thought those thoughts, the bus overtook them and sitting in the back, Mrs. Redkin, looking down, gave them a cheery wave. 'That bus will be taking her all around Bluff's Estate before she gets home,' Evelyn remarked.

Carl didn't respond and five minutes later,turning sharp left, they drove into the street where they'd bought their first and only home.

Pulling up outside their semi detached, he got out and opening the passenger door helped Evelyn shift her bulk out onto the pavement.

'Bring the shopping bag,' she said, waddling up the drive and obeying, he followed his wife to the front door.

Evelyn stuck out her hand. 'Key,' she demanded and Carl's fumbling inside his jacket pocket made his arthritic thumb twinge like toothache.

'Hurry up!' Evelyn said when he got hold of the key and tried to insert it into the lock. 'Oh, give it to me!' she shouted, grabbing hold of the keyring, wrenching his
swollen thumb back on itself.

Carl cried out in pain and Evelyn, telling him to shut up, swung her body around and as she did so, tottered like a huge ball and tumbled forward, crashing through the stained glass panels.

'Evelyn!' Carl cried out, bending over his prostrate wife lying among colourful shards of glass.

Silence fell. A bus pulled up, its brakes whooshing, automatic doors opening with a swish. Carl tried to move Evelyn. 'What's happened?' a quiet voice asked.

Panicked, Carl turned and met the calm, brown eyed gaze of Mrs. Redkin. 'Evelyn's fallen through the door,' he told her in a breathy whisper.

'Let me help.' Dropping her carrier bags onto the ground she jumped over a short, privet hedge dividing their properties. 'You take hold of her left arm,' she instructed. 'When I count to three, we'll turn her over.' And Carl gripping hold of his wife's upper arm, waited for the signal.

'One. Two. Three.' With effort they managed to heave Evelyn onto her back and Carl, straightening, stared down in horror at the silver dart protruding from his wife's neck.'Evelyn,' he bent over her and heard a horrible gurgling from her throat.

Mrs. Redkin, taking hold of his hand, gave it a gentle squeeze and in silence, they watched the last drop of Evelyn's blood pump out from her body.