‘That was so rude, Edward, even for you.’ His oldest friend Sasha spoke and stood up adjusting the Hermès scarf around her neck. ‘You need to apologise to her immediately.’
Edward rolled his eyes at her and looked to her husband Sanjeev for support. Sanjeev and he usually agreed on everything, except the look on Sanjeev’s face told him that perhaps there was one thing they disagreed on.
‘Brutal, mate. Might want to sort that out,’ Sanjeev said and he looked at Sasha who nodded.
‘We’re going to head back home. We had enough stress before we came without more family drama,’ said his other friend Caro.
‘Too right, if we’d wanted to watch people fight we would have stayed at home with Caro’s parents while they minded our kids,’ agreed Phillip, Caro’s husband.
Edward glanced about at their faces. He wasn’t used to this, but then again he hadn’t had anyone to Cranberry Cross for the weekend since Amber left.
Perhaps he was antisocial; perhaps he was avoiding writing by having them here. Perhaps he was a rude bastard.
He sat down on an armchair. ‘I was awful, wasn’t I?’
‘Yes,’ came the chorus of replies and he slumped backwards.
‘What’s going on, Ed?’ asked Sanjeev. ‘Do you want me to put my psychiatrist hat on for a minute?’
Edward shook his head. ‘I know what’s going on,’ he said. ‘I’m stuck. I have been since Amber left and because I have this bloody contract, I have to finish the book but I don’t have it in me.’
He paused.
‘And she’s been sent by the publisher to whip the book into shape while I write.’
‘So, you projected your anger and frustration onto her? That doesn’t seem fair does it?’
‘Shut up, Sanj. I know, I know.’
Edward closed his eyes. Sanjeev had recommended some tablets to help him manage his moods since Amber had left, but he hadn’t taken them for long. Preferring to feel it all – except he was becoming angrier and mean. He hated that side of himself. He knew he could be cruel. It wasn’t something he was proud of and now, as he faced his close friends, he felt truly accountable. That girl had done nothing to him and he had lashed out because he didn’t want to admit he was out of ideas.
He was stuck, in both his writing and his life.
‘I need to apologise,’ he said.
Phillip shook his head. ‘You absolutely do or else we’re leaving.’
Caro leaned over to Sasha. ‘Phillip must be furious to be prepared to go home to my parents. They call him Phil, which you know he loathes.’
‘Okay, I’m going,’ Edward said.
As he climbed the stairs, Flora passed him on the way down.
‘Where are you off to?’ he asked.
‘I’m off to find some Gothic babies in the snow.’
‘I have no words,’ he said.
‘I know. I told Eve you didn’t have any more words left inside you. If you want some words, you can come and borrow some from my books.’
‘Thank you, darling but you can’t go outside now. Back to bed,’ Edward called out to her as she disappeared down the dark hall.
Flora came back to him and sighed dramatically. ‘If the Gothic babies die overnight then it’s your fault.’
Gothic babies? Where had she learned that word?
‘The Gothic babies will be fine. They’re used to these sort of conditions; that’s why they’re Gothic,’ he said. ‘Go on, into bed and I’ll tuck you in once I’ve spoken to Eve.’
