Brenda had been flattered, amazed that this gorgeous man, a man with a known reputation as a flirt in the village had shown even the slightest bit of interest in her. He had started politely, offering to drop the car to her once it was ready. “If you could give me a lift back, that would be nice”, as he flashed a smile and ran his hand through his shining black hair. It was probably the only time in his life that he would ever use the word nice in a sentence addressed to Brenda.

A couple of dates in the local pub, collecting her from work at the local council, and he knew he was almost there with this young girl. Her parents were dead and she lived with her Aunty and Uncle neither of whom ever smiled. He didn’t know if they liked him or not. It was hard to tell. Brenda never smiled either, except when she talked about the bloody civil service exam. That was the only worry for Luke, that she would go ahead and follow that path. It was a path that lead to too much power. Money for a start, she’d be earning but much as this tempted him it was easy enough to persuade her that all he wanted was to have her at home, to know that she would be there when he can home from work, to know that they would be together every evening, all weekends and that they could go on holidays together. “You know you’re the one for me, you do know that don’t you Brenda?” It had been in the Spread Eagle, his favourite pub because of its high ceilings and cheap sometimes flat beer. Brenda had remarked on the sticky carpets and Luke had nearly lost it but hid his anger with a slurp of beer and a glance at the dartboard. “Fancy a game of darts?” He had said, and although Brenda was rubbish at the game he couldn’t help but be impressed how fast she was at scoring, from the 501 start to the finishing triple 19, every shot was scored in a second. He liked that the other blokes playing were also impressed, at least at first he liked it. But then a muttered “You don’t wanna show off like that darlin’, no, you don’t do you?” And Brenda looked wide eyed back at her hero, who had won four games straight, and said “no, no of course not.” She took her time with the arithmetic that evening and always, whenever they were in the pub and she was watching Luke play darts with his mates.

From the short courtship to the sparse little wedding was a matter of weeks. They moved in with Luke’s Mum, a grey and rough handed woman who smoked even more than Luke did. She would patrol the house when they were both at work, leaving cigarette ash on their bed and in the bathroom sink. Brenda occasionally visited her Aunty and Uncle, but they were never much pleased to see her and Luke didn’t like it so she gave it up. Soon they bought the bungalow and on the day they moved in he told her “now everything changes, now it’s just you and me”. Brenda had beamed up at him from her unpacking, wordless and smiling with no idea that what he meant was anything other than romance. They’d managed sex once or twice at his Mum’s but it was all a bit hit and miss, mostly miss. Neither of them seemed competent, passion was largely absent and Brenda said sorry for getting it wrong. “It’s being here,” Luke had told her, “me Mum’s in the next room, puts me off a bit.” And he would try again before punching the pillow hard and rolling away. In the bungalow everything changed. Luke’s Mum wasn’t in the next room, he sometimes tried again, and he always punched Brenda hard before rolling away.