A Marriage Meant To Be. Josie Metcalfe

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      This had definitely not been one of her better ideas, she realised as she tried to mop up her tears without letting Martin know she was crying or attracting too much attention from the people around her.

      She’d been waiting for Marian to say her farewells to Jess and the new baby before she drove Callie to see her new venture, and she’d decided to make use of the time by contacting Martin. She obviously should have waited until she was somewhere more private than a telephone kiosk that was little more than a clear plastic bubble.

      ‘I—I’ll call you in a little while,’ she promised before she fumbled the receiver into its cradle and sobbed.

      A persistent tapping beside her head had her hastily smearing the tears away with both hands before she turned to face the elderly gentleman standing nearby.

      ‘Are you all right, missy?’ he asked in concerned tones. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

      ‘There’s nothing anyone can do,’ she said bleakly before she could put a curb on her tongue. ‘I’m sorry. That was rude,’ she apologised swiftly when he blinked at the rebuff. ‘I’m all right, really. I just…had some bad news and…’

      ‘Take yourself home and make yourself a cup of tea,’ he advised kindly, giving her arm a pat with a gnarled, blue-veined hand. ‘I find that even if it doesn’t make the problem go away, it sometimes makes it easier to cope with.’