Staring at his reflection, Carl smoothed down what was left of his hair. He was definitely getting old. It was no surprise to him that Carolyn seemed to recoil with a look of distaste every time he touched her. He knew it would happen one day, she was nineteen years his junior and everything he’d ever dreamed of – tall, slender, beautiful and full of enthusiasm for life. He on the other hand had become consumed by his job until it had dominated his life entirely. His waistband had grown as his hair had thinned. Now, staring back at the man in the mirror, whose skin sagged about his scarlet cheeks overshadowed by a frown worn more through habit than through choice, Carl realised what he had become – an old man, his father.

Deftly positioning his smart grey cap upon his balding head, he fixed his gaze upon the finely woven jacket he had purchased that very day. “It takes ten years off you, Sir” the vendor had remarked. “Cost me almost ten years worth of wages too,” he muttered, picking up the garment.
It would be worth it though. If Carolyn could just look upon him the way he gazed wondrously at her he would pay fifty times as much.

*

Carefully opening the door of The Deer, Carl walked purposefully inside and glanced around, surveying the interior.
Upon hearing the door creak open, Carolyn leapt to her feet. The gentleman whose lap she had been warming was no longer a suitable item of furniture now that her beloved husband had arrived.
Smiling widely at Carl she muttered briefly to her friend that it was time for him to depart.

Forcing a smile, Carl knew Carolyn would never betray him - she had obviously fallen… or something similar.
Fiddling surreptitiously with the sleeve of his jacket, Mr Lawrence crept over to his place behind the bar – ready to begin his shift.

Little did he know, it would be his last…

*