The Widower

Prologue.

'Did you see that White Cottage has a new inhabitant?'

Marie put her tea cup down, and looked across the table to her friend.

'New? That means that Lesley has finally passed then. Poor love...'

Marie wiped a tear from her eye before continuing. 'Do we know who's taken the place over?'

'Well, according to Jo, it seems to be her husband...'

Of course Jo would know, Jo was the estate agent's assistant, and she was also a notorious gossip. She was also currently a guest of Marie's

'Has Jo had her exercise today?' asked Marie, receiving a shake of the head by way of reply. 'Well then, thank her for that bit of information, but please make sure she understands that gossip is not something we allow around here. I'll leave the method up to you.'

Marie sipped her tea. Lesley's husband. She thought back to the letter she had received 6 months back. Lesley had said her husband would arrive after she had died, and that at some point, he would approach her, with questions that Lesley herself would no longer be able to answer.

She'd be ready.

Chapter 1

John closed the door and put down his bags. It was strange, despite being married to Lesley for 10 years, this was one place that he had never been to with his wife. This was her private sanctum, a place she retreated to at least four times a year for a couple of weeks each time. 'A space to clear my mind and work out my kinks' she had described it as.

It had taken him a day to get to Dartmoor from London, from the place he and Lesley had lived in, worked on to make their own, then finally had worked on to keep Lesley comfortable as the cancer has overtaken her. She died in the hospital bed they had put in downstairs, three months ago.

Lesley was so clever, even towards the end. He could still replay the conversation.

'I'm going to die soon John. I want you to do something when I'm gone.'

He was sat on the bed, holding her thin hands in his own. 'Anything'

'Leave this place, John. Sell it, rent it out, but don't stay here.' She reached for a legal envelope on the table by the bed. 'There's a set of keys in here John. They're the keys to my cottage. I want you to go live up there for a while.'

'Why?'

'I want you to see it. I should have taken you up there before John, but it's too late now, my love. There's a series of letters in there as well. I want you to promise you won't open any of them until you reach the cottage.'

He had followed those instructions. Packing away some items for storage, selling a whole bunch of stuff, before putting the London house up for rent. Here he was, in the cottage, a couple of duffle bags and a laptop bag his only luggage.

He reached for the light switch, and flicked the lights on. In the light, he could see Lesley 's touch behind everything he saw. It was a comfy room, throw rugs on the floor, a small couch alongside a small fireplace, a coffee table between that and a high backed armchair. Various pictures hung on the wall, but he didn't look at them. Instead he dropped his bags in the armchair, and crossed to the door in the far wall. A kitchen and dining area, very much fitting the character of this old cottage, a huge wooden table in the center, an Aga for both cooking and heating, the sink below the window, next to the door to the back garden.

There was a note on the table, from the estate agent in the area, saying the fridge has been stocked up ready. Must have been the work of the assistant, he thought. He'd interacted with her a couple of times... Joanne, that was her name.

An open sided staircase was on one wall, and John had started to walk towards it when a wave anxiety washed over him. Lesley had been his wife, but this was her space, somewhere he hadn't been to during all the time they had been married. Maybe it was tiredness, maybe it was another twisted knot of grief, but he couldn't go upstairs right now, into her space.

Instead, he turned back to the first room, took off his shoes and jacket, turned off the light, and settled on the couch. He took a pull at the flask of whiskey he had kept with him since Lesley's death, then set it on the floor.

Soon, he had dropped to sleep.