Wild Fiction

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4
The sun was forcing its way through a thin layer of clouds and Rebecca could feel the warmth on her face. James appeared next to her. ‘Where do we go from here?’ she asked.
He pointed at a gap between the wall and the bush. ‘We can squeeze through there, it isn’t very thick. Stay close behind me. The route we have out of the garden keeps us hidden from the house.’
They ducked around the bushes and ran from tree to tree until they reached the large stone wall at the bottom of the garden. Rebecca saw a few displaced stones in the wall where the wild ivy that held it together had been cleared. James helped her over the wall and into the lane.
‘Right,’ James said, ‘where to now?’ James looked expectantly at her.
It was only then that Rebecca realised that they did not have a plan. The creaking of a gate opening behind them made them turn their heads.
‘He’s leaving the house. Quickly, we need to hide,’ James said.
They climbed over the ditch on the far side of the lane and hid in the thick bracken that carpeted the forest. The red Jaguar purred slowly past them. In the driver’s seat sat an attractive woman. Her smooth jaw line curved neatly into her slender neck. Curls of auburn hair peeked from under her navy blue scarf and framed her high cheekbones. She was wearing Jackie Kennedy sunglasses. The car wound its way down the narrow lane and before long it was out of sight.
‘Who was that?’ Rebecca asked.
‘Genevieve, the author’s wife,’ James replied. ‘She thinks she’s Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis. Didn’t you see the sunglasses?’
‘I didn’t know he was married,’ Rebecca said. She had never considered the author to be married. She thought that he had created her as the special woman in his life. Now that she knew that this was not so, she felt uneasy.

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