The writers' group

Author Angela' s husband was about to star in her new plot twist¼

Angela stared at the back of her husband' s head. Why was Robert still there? Her friends were about to arrive for their writers' group.

Aren' t you going out today?' she asked.

Didn' t fancy it,' he replied. But you always go out on a Saturday afternoon.'

Robert flapped his paper. I want to see what you and your friends get up to. I don' t know why you bother to keep meeting you never get anything published.' Muriel does, she' s¼'

He cut her off. Don' t talk to me about Muriel. Ghastly woman. No wonder she' s never married.'

Angela counted to 10. She should have left him years ago, but now she was in her 60s, it seemed like too much of an effort.

Don' t worry,' he said. I' ll behave myself. You won' t even know I' m here.'

Five minutes later, her friends arrived. Muriel had walked the half mile from her house, and the others had shared Dawn' s car. Angela took their coats, then led them through into the living room.

What' s he doing here?' gasped Kate.

`And hello to you too,' said Robert. In case you' ve forgotten, this is my house. I live here.'

Angela' s shoulders were already starting to ache, she was so tense. How could he do this to her? The group met once a month. It wouldn' t have hurt him to have stayed out of their way. After all, it was only for a couple of hours.

Once they' d all made themselves comfortable, Angela started the meeting.

It was my turn to choose the subject for today' s meeting, and I chose¼' she hesitated as she glanced at her husband¼ I chose love.'

When Robert snorted, Angela ignored him. Has everyone written something?' Her friends all nodded. Good, then let' s start with you, Dawn.'

Yes, why not?' said Robert. I could use a laugh.'

Don' t take any notice of him,' instructed Angela.

Angela could see that Dawn was nervous, she kept glancing at Robert as she read.

It wasn' t long before her story reached its dramatic climax. Gino reached out and took her in his arms. As his lips touched Vicky' s neck, she shivered with desire.'

Ha, shivered with desire,' mocked Robert. All you lot can hope to shiver with is cold.'

Dawn stopped reading and looked at Angela.

Take no notice,' Angela said. I can' t,' said Dawn. He' s putting me off.'

Angela turned to Kate. What have you got for us?'

A love poem,' she said. About my cat.'

Now that' s a surprise,' mocked Robert.

Kate started to read her poem. It was long, and rather dull. When they heard snores, Angela realised that Robert had fallen asleep. He was still dozing when Fiona read her story.

It wasn' t very good, but nobody minded. Muriel was

I want to see what you and your friends get up to. I don t know why you bother to keep meeting

the only serious writer in the group, the others wrote because they enjoyed it. At least they did when Robert wasn' t there.

It was lucky he was asleep, because it was Angela' s turn to read next.

She' d written about a marriage that had gone stale, but was saved when the woman had an affair with a much younger man.

Just wishful thinking,' Angela admitted, when she reached the end.

That wasn' t half bad,' said Muriel. You' re getting better all the time.'

Thanks,' replied Angela. That' s what she loved about Muriel she was always generous with her praise and encouragement.

Unfortunately, Robert woke up, just as it was

Muriel' s turn to read.

As you know, I don' t usually write about love,' she said, as she put on her reading glasses. It' s not my thing.'

That' s OK,' encouraged Angela. We don' t mind. It' s really great you decided to give it a try.'

Soon after she started to read, Robert began to snigger.

Muriel paused, then carried on. Vicky' s bosom heaved as she Robert cut her off in mid-sentence. Good grief, call yourself a writer. I' ve never heard such rubbish in all my life. If I listen to another word of that appalling drivel, I' ll go mad.'

After he' d left the room, Angela tried to comfort her friend.

I' m so sorry, Muriel. He has no idea what he' s talking about. Why don' t we take an early break?'

She came back with a tray of drinks, and some cakes and biscuits. The ladies helped themselves, and started to chat.

How do you put up with him?' Dawn asked, as she took a second slice of date and walnut.

I don' t have much choice,' sighed Angela. I couldn' t manage without him. He pays all the bills.'

Is he insured?' asked Fiona.

Yes,' laughed Angela, but he' s only 59. His parents lived into their 90s. He' s fit too. When we go cycling on Sunday mornings, he leaves me standing every time.'

Kate looked at Muriel who was still very upset.

You shouldn' t take any notice, Muriel. He was just being spiteful.'

Muriel blew her nose. He was right. I' ve never been able to write love scenes.'

Angela passed her the plate of cakes. Here, have some more cake. It will make you feel better.'

Thanks, Angela.'

Luckily, Robert didn' t come back, so there were no more interruptions.

At four o' clock, Angela closed the meeting. We' re at Muriel' s next time. What subject do you want us to write about?' she asked.

How about horrible husbands?' Muriel suggested, making them all laugh. She lingered behind after the others had gone. Can I have a word with you, Angela?' she said.

The next Sunday, Robert and Angela were out riding their bikes. As usual, Angela was struggling to keep up.

Can' t you go any faster?

Try a different gear, for goodness' sake,' he snapped.

I' m doing my best. Maybe you could slow down a bit,' pleaded Angela.

What for? You' re four years younger than I am.'

He increased his speed so that the gap between the two bikes slowly lengthened.

He was waiting for her when she reached the top of the hill.

Angela stopped to catch her breath, well aware that he' d only let her catch up so that he could leave her standing on the way down. He did the same thing every week. Ready?' he asked.

She nodded and watched as he set off at full speed, then she shouted after him. You shouldn' t have upset Muriel the other day.'

Why not?' he called back. She couldn' t write a love scene to save her life.'

That' s because she writes crime. She' s working on a plot where the husband gets killed, riding into a wire.'

That would never happen,' Robert turned and shouted back at her. He' d see the w¼'

He didn' t get to finish the sentence. He' d ridden straight into the wire that Muriel had stretched between two trees, just minutes earlier.

The courts decided his death was a tragic accident, but Angela knew differently.

Her husband should never have picked on Muriel. There was a reason she was hopeless at writing about love and romance she was a crime writer.

Over the years, she' d come up with dozens of clever ways to murder annoying husbands. The difference was that this time, it wasn' t a story it was real.

She writes crime. She s working on a plot where the husband gets killed, riding into a wire