Harry had no way of knowing that the decision he made – the simple, mundane every day decision – would have such terrible consequences for him and his wife.

He was ready to go. He had checked in online for their flight. His suitcase and cabin bag were packed and standing in the hall. On the coat rack hung his jacket with keys, wallet, sunglasses, passport and printed boarding card tucked into the pockets.

Molly was still pulling together the contents of her handbag, always a long job before a long trip. Harry looked at his watch; he still had fifteen minutes or so before the taxi was due. What else had he wanted to do before he went on holiday?

Water the roses? They were parched but maybe they could wait. Clean and polish the Jag? It would be tight to fit that in. Mow the lawn? Definitely not enough time. Download another travel guide? He had three already.

The roses it was then.

He put on his jacket and walked through the hallway and dining room, his airline boarding pass flapping out of the breast pocket like a stiff handkerchief. He opened the French windows and went out onto the terrace. The rose beds stretched away on either side in lines of scarlet blooms.

About me

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