Chapter One: Walking a Tighrope

"Having any luck, love?" Bob asked, the slightest pause before the endearment giving a strong hint of the effort involved.  He didn't really mind if Eliza stayed unemployed, but she was so touchy about the subject.  Even the mildest query was likely to result in a rebuff.

"No, not yet." Eliza sighed, a resigned sort of sound.  "Waiting to hear back as usual."  Eliza recognised that Bob was on his good behaviour this evening; he was trying.

She tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.  "Thanks for dinner" she tried, although they had eaten over an hour ago and Bob was already in his pyjamas.  There was a silent pause.  Bob smiled.

"Um" Eliza continued "Clara invited us -well, me- to a social chess tournament at the park tomorrow.  Did you, want to come?"  Even Eliza realised her delivery left some doubt of her true intention in asking.  She dug deep.  "It would be nice to, you know, spend some time together."

Even that almost sounded like a question.

"Ugh.  Yeah.  Sure." Bob answered, only a little hesitantly.  He didn't really like social events.  And he didn't really get along with Eliza's friend Clara Bjergsen.  But the dance with Eliza had to be played out.  A sort of tit for tat.  She had invited him and so he had to accept.

The day was something of a fiasco.  They had met Clara at the park.  Clara had virtually refused to acknowledge Bob's presence and instead started regaling Eliza with the latest gossip.  Then Bob's boss had text about an extra shift that week.  Bob tried to be as surreptitious as possible in calling back, but still earned glares from Eliza.  It didn't help that he was in the middle of a match at the time.  Then Bob had played Clara, who managed to get on his nerves while pretending to be nice.  They had gone home in a bad mood.  Eliza in a huff about Bob's "behaviour" and Bob feeling like the whole thing had been a waste of time and they should have known it would end that way from the start.  

That night Bob slept in his old bed -in what was now officially the guest room- instead of in the master suite next to Eliza.

To top things off, the following morning the shower spring a leak.  Bob got soaked trying his best to fix it.

He was enraged and humiliated when Eliza called in a plumber, rather than wait for him to buy the part he needed.

So the pair began to avoid each other again.  Bob took up as much work as possible.  When he wasn't at work he'd be out of the house with his fishing rod from first light until it got dark; or so it seemed.  Mealtimes became solitary affairs. They were both surviving on a lot of leftovers, almost exclusively Bob's cooking.  Bob always made plenty.  Whenever Eliza cooked, it was a simple meal for one; something like a BLT sandwich or an egg on toast.  She never cooked for Bob.

Many evenings, when the tinny blaring from the lounge indicated that Bob had finished his dinner and was watching television, Eliza would come down to eat.  She'd stare into space, inwardly fuming at the used dishes Bob inevitably left on the table.
She didn't let Bob back into their bed again until he'd apologised.  For his part, Bob didn't really know what he was apologising for.

Eliza began going out evenings.  It mattered little whether Bob was at work or at home.  Clara was her frequent companion.  Together they explored restaurants, theatres, festivals, bars and bands.  Eliza didn't particularly care if she was spending money, the shared accounts were still healthy.

In the morning Eliza would get dressed quietly, drink a herbal tea to help with the worst of her hangover and go fire up the computer to look for work.  When she grew bored with that, she'd be on the phone or Facebook with Clara, planning their next jaunt.  She'd have just enough time to make sure the house was spic and span before heading out.

Meanwhile Bob plodded along with work.  He'd cook if he was in the mood, eat and then watch television or play video games until he was ready to take himself to bed.

Until the day that Eliza received a job offer.  A part-time position working in the office of some well respected critics.  Her job was to deliver coffee and papers, while observing how the real work was done.  With only a little luck, she'd move up to having her own opinions published.

Eliza was so ecstatic about it all that she kissed a shocked Bob as soon as she got home from the interview.