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WRITERSCIRCLE.NET

killing time
sue shearing

Paula was thrilled when Miles asked her to move in with him. He hadn’t seemed to notice her for years, even though they worked in the same office.
 
He had spoken to her every day, but only about work, no matter how hard she tried to make him smile or appreciate her efforts to look good. But then, one day last summer, all that had changed.
 
Miles was an MP, a back bencher, but she admired him for getting that far. Maybe he would be Prime Minister one day. She had been his PA since she left Uni, nearly ten years ago and had loved him from the start. He was the youngest MP in the house, so the age difference wasn’t that great. Neither of them had married. He was busy with his career, and she was not interested in anyone else.
 
She loved his dark curls and the dimples in his cheeks and his chin, his soft manly voice, and his immaculate appearance. And just when she had accepted that he would never see her as anything but a workmate, he asked her out to dinner.
She suspected that this would be work related and even worried that he might be letting her go.
 
But in the candlelight of the beautiful restaurant, Miles said that he had loved everything about her for years, but was afraid that if she didn’t feel the same way, she might leave, or at least that it would cause embarrassment in the office.
Everything moved very quickly after that. Why wait, when they knew each other so well?
 
Work was now fun, and even Big Ben had stopped its infuriating chiming while being repaired.
 
She couldn’t wait to move in with Miles, although she had never been to his home. He had a Victorian house in the country. She wasn’t disappointed. She had her man, and he treated her like a princess. The house was a comfortable retreat, and all would have been well, except for the infernal ticking, cuckooing and chiming of countless clocks. They were everywhere. Grandfather clocks, mantle clocks, antique clocks …all ticking, chiming, ticking chiming relentlessly day and night.
 
Miles was oblivious. He had had them for years and added to his collection every now and again. It was an obsession.
 
Paula didn’t want to complain and spoil her almost perfect new life. But after a while, she wanted to scream and smash the clocks with a sledge hammer. She had to get rid of the clocks, but how? Miles would never willingly part with them and, although she didn’t want to upset him, they had to go, or eventually she would.
 
She needed a plan.  She saw her chance when Miles had a three day business trip to Scotland lined up. While he was having lunch with another MP to discuss the trip, she nipped out to a local antique shop.
 
As she entered the shop she heard more ticking and chiming. What was this obsession with clocks? Old Mr Jackson of Jackson Antiques approached her.
She had to lie. There was no way round it. She explained that her boyfriend had moved in with her, but he couldn’t stand the ticking clocks, so to save the relationship, she had regrettably, decided to get rid of them.
 
The old man nodded sadly to show that he understood, but said he had no more room in his shop for clocks. He could take them to auction for her the next day if that was any help?
 
The clocks (it turned out there were forty-two in all) were collected in a large van and taken to auction. Paula was elated and terrified at the same time. She basked in the silence for half an hour, but when she thought about Miles, she had a pang in the pit of her stomach. What would she tell him?
 
She couldn’t resist going to the auction. She had to make sure those infernal things had gone. The auction room was packed, and there were people bidding on the phones, and online. It was her first auction and quite a buzz.
 
She stood at the back, by the door. No point going to the front if she wasn’t going to bid. She could hear from here. Then someone touched her shoulder. She spun round. Miles.
 
She jumped with fright. Miles explained that he had heard that there were going to be some jolly good clocks today, and thought he’d pop in quickly to have a look.
Paula had to think on her feet.
 
“I planned to surprise you with another clock for your collection and you’re spoiling it.”
 
“That’s typical of your kindness,” he said, kissed her and left.
 
Paula mortified, but flushed with fear and love, returned to the salesroom. To be on the safe side, she would bid for something.  There might be someone there who knew her or Miles. But she would stop bidding quickly to make sure that she didn’t buy a clock by accident.
 
Several clocks went quickly for good prices before Paula plucked up the courage to bid. Then up came the grandfather clock and up went her hand. There were a couple more bids and then, like many of the others, it went to an online bidder.  She would tell Miles that she tried but she was outbid. It was the truth, after all.
 
When all the clocks had gone, she left the building and drove home, wondering if she should tell Miles that they had been burgled. Three gloriously quiet hours later, there was a knock on the door. Two men staggered in with the familiar grandfather clock and plonked it in the hall, the only place it would fit, but also the place where it could be heard from all over the house. While she was remonstrating with them, explaining that they had made a mistake, her phone rang.
 
It was Miles, his voice full of joy and love, explaining that he was sorry if he’d spoiled her surprise.  “I couldn’t let you spend your hard earned cash on me.  I stopped en-route to Scotland to outbid you online.” He went on that loved her so much for her thoughtfulness and would miss her terribly while away. Could she stand the clock next to the similar one in the hall until he got back, please?
 
That night, as she lay in bed alone, listening to the never-ending ticking and chiming, she was tempted to get a hammer and kill the damned thing off. But then something strange happened. There was silence. Paula sat up and listened. Not a sound. No tick, no tock, no bong.
 
She went downstairs and had a look. The grandfather clock stood quietly where is had always been, but it had stopped at 12.15. She was elated. She would get some sleep after all and worry about what to do next in the morning. After all, she had three days to come up with a plan.
 
Except she didn’t.
 
At 5.20 am she was woken by the doorbell. When it dawned on her that she wasn’t dreaming, she clambered into her dressing gown and opened door to the police. The love of her life had been injured in a car accident. At 12.15am. He was in hospital in Scotland.
 
She was frantic. She caught the next flight to be by his side. As she hugged him, he explained that his injures weren’t life threatening, but he would be in hospital for some time. Weeping with relief, Paula decided to spend that time trying to locate and buy back every single clock she had sold, so that when he came home, everything would be as he had left it. After all, the ticking of his heart next to hers was more important than any annoying clock.

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