The Request. A short story by Charles Roberts

   

 She sat on the bench watching the children playing on the swings, slides, carrousel, and in the sand pit.  She kept glancing up at the block of flats to her right, she was day dreaming and didn’t notice at first that the playground had gone quiet.  She looked around and saw that all the children and their parents had left, she was on her own with only her memories to keep her company.  She looked up at the block of flats once more and saw that a light had come on in the second floor window she had been watching, then she noticed that the street lights had come on.

The rain started to fall and she was feeling cold now, how long have I sat here, she thought, most of the afternoon, she answered herself, she shivered and pulled her coat collar up, snuggling down into the warm wool of the long coat.  Rain dripped from her nose as she rose and walked towards the entrance to the flats, her hair sticking to her forehead as she quickened her pace, the rain becoming heavier now, she could feel the cold water trickling down her back as the rain ran off her hair.  She almost ran up the stairs to the second floor where she stopped in front of a door, she hesitated, what must I look like, she thought trying to push her wet hair into some semblance of order, the water dripping from the hem of her sopping coat.

She pushed the bell and heard a distant ring, then footsteps moving down the hall towards the door, after a moment or two the door opened.

          ‘Hello Nick,’ she said softly.  ‘How are you?’

          ‘Hello Lu,’ he replied, ‘I’m fine; how have you been keeping?’

          ‘Oh well! You know,’

          They stood on each side of the threshold looking at each other, each wishing that the other would say something.

          ‘What brings you here?’ he asked breaking the silence between them.

          ‘I want,’ she stuttered.

          ‘You want!’ he put his hand on the door frame.  ‘The last time I heard you say that; you finished by saying a divorce.’

          ‘I know!  But do you think that you could take me back?’

          ‘Take you back!  What about the divorce?  Changed you mind have we?’

          ‘Please don’t shout or get angry Nick.  What is it that you men say down in the pub about their wives?  You can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.’

          ‘Something like that.  You’d best come in if we’re going to talk this over.’  He stepped aside and allowed her to enter the apartment.  ‘You know the way.’  She walked into the lounge as he closed the front door and followed her.

          ‘You’ve not decorated.’ She said looking round.

          ‘Didn’t think that it needed it.  Take a pew.’  She sat on the sofa and he sat in an armchair.

          ‘I know what I was like before we broke up, but I’ve changed, honestly I have changed.  I put myself through a class,’ she paused, ‘a program to help me sort myself out,’ she paused again, ‘and now I am different Nick, I really am.’

          ‘And now you come here and expect me to take you back after what you put me through.’  He leaned back in the chair and looked at her over the top of his glasses.

          ‘Couldn’t you see it in your heart to give me one more chance?’

          ‘See it in my broken heart,’ he paused.  ‘A second chance,’ he looked at the black screen of the TV, ‘I need my head examining.’ He looked back at her.  ‘All right,’ he said unconvincingly, ‘but if you haven’t changed you’re out and the divorce goes through, okay.’  He said wagging a finger at her and pushed his glasses up his nose. She nodded, He looked seriously at her and paused for a long time ‘I must be bleeding crazy.’