Competition Thirty-Two Shortlisted: Trying by Joanna Miller

“It’ll make you feel better,” he’d insisted.

And although she hadn’t wanted to, she’d made the effort. But somewhere along the shore road, her mood darkened, and she felt anger seep into the space between them, tainting the idyllic vistas of seal pups balanced together on seaweed-slicked rocks.

He slowed the car. “If I remember right, the turning’s after this bend.”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t care. They’d visited the island last year, seduced by its magic: the holiday cottage, diving gannets, artisan salted chocolates, the castle they were heading for. She remembered them holding hands, negotiating the fell’s boulder-strewn path, high on expectations. They’d almost reached the summit when she’d lost her nerve, failing to make the final scramble. Now, back in the gallery, the homely scent of floor wax and a picture titled ‘Girl on a Swing’ taunted her, while the sound of his approaching footsteps echoed the silence, too loud, too loud.

“You never really wanted children, did you?” She glared at him before flouncing out.

Later, the poisonous words sour in her mouth, she watched him set the fire, light the kindling, a thousand unshed tears blurring her vision, swimming the flames that flickered then strengthened, licking the logs, voracious.

He poured a whisky and sat beside her. “Talk to me.”

“I need to weave dreams, to see all those cute faces on the clinic’s baby wall. I need to keep hoping.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“I don’t know. Please.” She turned to him, “Just once more.”

He leaned back, eyes closed, face immobile, and she kept quiet, studying his profile, wondering how they’d survive if they gave up trying. Then he nodded, and she loved him again, even more than those first giddy days, taking his hand, kissing his palm, contrite.

Joanna lives in Derbyshire with her partner, three dogs, and a long-suffering cat. She writes micro, flash and short stories.

Photo courtesy of The Scottish Mountaineering Trust – https://thesmt.org.uk/

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