A book? Why the hell did he have a book, he could barely read? She opened it and flicked through. There weren’t even any pictures. She dumped it back on the table and went through the rest. There was nothing here she wanted, just as she didn’t want him back. Not like that was a problem any more.

She’d cried when they told her, then wondered why. No more visits with Alfie to see him in that horrible place. Better Alfie had no dad than that piece of work, so why the tears? It just seemed like the thing to do, really, like going through his personals now. She’d spent the last few years dreading him coming out, and now it was gone, all the fear and the dread and the waking in the night thinking he was coming in the door. Her baby boy was safe and life could actually mean something beyond waiting.

She rubbed her face with her hands, then wandered in the house and grabbed a hoodie. It was chillier today, a good day for a fire. She hadn’t made many fires in her life, but she’d bought charcoal, and lighter fluid and got some old newspapers, so she reckoned she was all set.

Once the paper was burning well, she dumped on the charcoal, still in the bag, then doused it with fluid. She jumped back as the whole thing went up like it was Guy Fawkes, and watched the flames and the sparks that leapt up as the charcoal began to catch.

She coughed, the smoke getting thick and black, and stepped further back, covering her face. She imagined the smoke was his body burning, his spirit leaving them once and for all. She picked up the bag, and took out his things. They were simple and few, and one by one, they went on the fire. She hefted the book. She could take it to the charity shop. No, if it was his, it needed to burn. She lobbed it on.

The smoke had gone, leaving just the flames, turning all kinds of beautiful colours, red and yellows and the shade of the sun when it caught behind clouds and faded almost to white. Then they turned, becoming blue, and green, like the ocean in holiday adverts. She felt a pain in her chest, a stabbing, then her breath went out, and nothing came back in. She didn’t feel the floor as it rushed up to meet her, she felt nothing, not even the warmth of the fire as it licked eagerly at her out-stretched hand.

Sandra was in the car park when she saw him, wearing shiny shoes at the bottom of dirt-grey trousers that looked a hundred years old. He was standing by her car, his face sagging like an over-ripe tomato, and his arms wrapped around him, keeping his even older jacket closed.

She slowed as she got closer, not making eye contact, but letting him know she had seen him. She skirted around the car and opened the boot, lifting the bags out of the trolley. She’d just placed the last one in when he spoke, his voice oddly strong and confident, and close!

“You should read this.”

~~~

Well folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading ‘The Book’. I’ll be posting another serialized story in the next month or so, but if you’d like to read more, my first full-length novel, The Spirit Room, is now available on Amazon, and Smashwords!

Thanks again to Kayleigh for the great idea, and Wifey for the edits. 🙂