At the time, she couldn’t understand why he didn’t turn up.
They had been dating for several months. She’d met him in the Christian book shop. They seemed to have so much in common. He had struck her as being a very caring and decent guy. They had even discussed marriage briefly on occasion. He was definitely reliable. If he was running a few minutes late, he would text her. He was thoughtful like that. He was probably delayed at work, or he may have had problems finding somewhere to park. Of course, there was always car trouble. There was bound to be a good reason. Anyway, she had arrived at the cinema’s foyer early. The main feature wouldn’t start for another ten minutes, but he was cutting it fine. Then, with only a couple of minutes to go, she went back out onto the street and looked up and down. Checking the time once more, she could see that they weren’t going to make it. No big deal, really. He would text her later. She just hoped he was all right.
Resigned to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen, she made her way to the bus stop. She was crossing the street when she came face to face with his image. A head and shoulders close-up, right there on the large TV screen in the shop window. She stood gaping when the caption came up, ‘Man arrested for murdering his wife. Brutal slaying shocks neighbours’.
She carried on along the street, Oh! Dear, what a shame, she thought.
She was British.