It was a few days before I actually surfaced after Maximus walked out. There were a number of reasons for this. Firstly, I had a large purple bruise across my cheek. I don't remember that he hit me at all but I suppose a wild episode like that was capable of causing a lot of damage. I also had what I suspected was a slight concussion- there was an egg-shaped lump on my scalp and my sight was blurred for a while- my head banged incessantly, too.

Most of that afternoon and evening I cried, slumped in a hot bath with a bottle of gin, a bucket of ice and a six pack of tonic water. At some point I must have climbed out, dried myself and slipped into bed but it was a wonder I didn't drown myself. The hangover I suffered the next day made the concussion seem mild.

The next day is a blur. I wouldn't answer the phone. I don't remember eating. I consumed vast amounts of alcohol and handfuls of pain killers- I still shudder at the potential disaster I must have been. When I wasn't throwing up, sleeping it off, weeping or drinking some more, I wandered around the house and drove the knife in deeper, smelling her clothes, hugging her toys, stroking the scribblings, leafing through the albums and videos- just generally making myself more and more depressed.

A second reason for not leaving the house was an irrational fear I had that if I left for any reason then I just might miss Maximus returning. He had to come back for her things, his own clothes...at some point he would have to face me again and this time I would think of something to say to him to make him see that he was wrong about me. Not that I had an idea what I might say to him. In truth I was scared. Ashamed and scared. But my need for my child was paramount. The ache in my womb as the days passed became almost intolerable.

Eventually I started to pull myself round at least enough to wash and dress and sober up, to eat something and try to make sense of where I was and what I could do about the nightmare I had caused.  I thought about Terry and wondered if he had found Ann; I was afraid for him, too- would Maximus go after him next? He might spare me the worst of his violence but, by the look of what he had done to Ann and she to him, I could only imagine what he was capable of doing to Terry.

I think it was the third day, my memory is hazy, but the phone rang and for once, I picked it up almost without thinking.

 

 

I placed the phone down and realized that I was shaking all over. It was then that I began to see what a complete mess I was. It would be a long road back but I was going to start over. Somewhere deep within me, a spark of the determination I once had was still there. His words had resonated somewhere in me.

A curious image presented itself to me. It was from Max's film. The scene when Proximo spoke before his first appearance as a gladiator in Zucchabar. Maximus' face as he listened to what made a man a man and what mattered of us in the final accounting. I rubbed an imaginary few grains of the soil of my home in my fingers and made the decision that Maximus had made. He might have been about to die- but he was going to face it in his way. Well, so am I. From now on in, my life was up to me and me alone. I was not going to roll over and fall on my sword any more than he would. I will face up to what I have done and go on.

The swelling had faded and was hidden mostly by makeup; the weather was cold and I went out swathed in a scarf and hat so I don't think anyone noticed. I bought food, cleaned the house, washed and ironed, cooked and looked after myself. But most of all I thought. About everything that had happened. Bought a large leather bound notebook and began to write a journal. It began with Maximus and how we met...the second volume concerned Terry and the web of betrayal that had brought us all to this place. As you can see, I am still writing it now.

I worked a lot of things out in my head. First I had to decide what I believed: where my guilt lay, where I had gone wrong, understand the complex events that had brought my world to its knees. Then I had to deal with it.

I was strangely free of anger. There was no space for it. I didn't even hate Isobel. The fault lay with me. I had known what I was doing- walked into it with my eyes open. I had done what I would never have accepted from my husband. He had never let me down, even though to him a man's sexual behaviour was unimportant. But to him a woman's was central to how he thought of her, himself and his place as head of the household. I hadn't just betrayed him, I had emasculated him in the eyes of his whole Family.

There were lots of arrangements to make. Lily first. This was her home and she must live in it with all that was familiar about her. I would not allow her to lose that link with some form of security- she was to lose so much else in the time to come. I packed up all my clothes, books, personal effects and put most in store, some I gave away. I took nothing that was not mine. All my jewellery, my rings, my wedding ring, everything Maximus had given me over the years, and placed them in an ornate wooden box; I wanted them to go to my daughter when she was old enough. I had little enough to give her now.

There was also the matter of my job to sort out. I made the necessary arrangements and applications. Fortunately, I could start very quickly after a short in-service training. It didn't leave me long to wind up my affairs. Our lawyer's office was the next port of call. I gave him my house keys, various rights of attorney signing everything in my name over to Maximus, and leaving two letters with him. One was for my husband. One was for Lily on her eighteenth birthday.

I know it sounds very cold and calculating when I write it down here. It wasn't really like that at all. There were plenty of tears and screwed up attempts at letter writing. There were nights when I sobbed over boxes of photographs and little scraps of drawings she had done. Her room was off limits- I could not even enter without my legs failing me. I hadn't even made up her bed; rumpled, it still seemed as if her body had just left it and I could feel her trace.

I sat for hours and wound time back. Made little tucks in reality and rewrote my story so that it was just another day, Lily was in bed and Maximus was out at work and soon he would come back and...I had never touched another man. I had never let him down. I was full-bellied with his son and he adored me as once he had. As he always had. In truth there was never a woman loved more than I by any man.

I closed the front door and pushed my keys into the letter box. Looking up at the house I had loved so much, seeing it for the last time, I said my silent farewells. A hired car was at the end of the driveway, I hoisted my luggage up into the boot, slammed it shut and drove away without turning back.

"I know. Just go. Easier that way." Terry's words re-echoed in my brain.

If you could turn back time. If she had not walked in. If we had got away with it. But, in the end we didn't deserve to. We had done wrong and I would never try to claim that I hadn't. I had still enough integrity left to accept my blame.

I parked outside my parents' home and walked up the driveway. They didn't know any of this but I would not go without trying to explain and saying goodbye. I rang the doorbell. My father answered. It was evident from his face that he was aware of something.

"It's you. You came at last, then." He stepped back and let me in. "Your mother's in the kitchen. Your sister's there, too. Don't upset her any more than you have done already..."

I walked through and my mother and my sister, Kirsty, stared at me like as if they had seen a ghost.

"Hi Mum...Kirsten..."

Their silence spoke volumes. Mum went to put the kettle on- her answer to everything- and Kirsty stood defensively in front of her. "What's this about, Uma?"

"I want to talk to Mum and Dad."

"I'm not leaving."

"That's OK...you need to hear this, too."

And so I had to sit there at the kitchen table, playing with a cup of tea and try to explain what I was about to do.

"Have you heard anything? You seem to be primed. Angry with me..." I began.

"Lily has been here. Max asked us to look after her for a while until he had made arrangements..."

"You had Lily...you never told me...?" I gasped in horror. She had been with my own parents?

"We tried to call you- you were not at home. We could guess where you were...with him, no doubt..."

"WHAT? What did Max tell you?" Surely he wouldn't do that to me?

"Nothing. He's too much of a gentleman ever to say anything against you. He just said that you would be separating. That he would have Lily. He said it was private and he wouldn't talk about it but would we give him a little help until he was settled. It was very difficult...Lily was upset..."

I bit my lip and forced back a sob.

"Yes! Your little girl...wouldn't go to bed...waited by the door for you, night after night... 'Where's my Mummy? I want my Mummy!' Over and over again. Have you any idea what you are doing to her? But do you even care? As long as Uma gets what she wants - to hell with everyone else, hey? When has that ever been any different? But your own child...I hope he's worth it..." My sister and I had never been friends. She was older than me and bitter about a lot of things that hadn't worked for her in her life- she'd seen me as the golden girl, the favoured one, the pride of the family. Oh yes, she would be rubbing this in now.

Mum broke in, wringing a handkerchief in her fingers. "...when I think how he lost his first family...how could you do it to him? How could you? He's the finest man I have ever known...are you insane? What can another man give you that he cannot...?"

I broke in "How do you know there's a man in this? What makes you think I have left him for another man?" I had to know.

"There must be. Why else would you leave your husband and child? There's no other explanation. Are you saying that there was no other man?" My father addressed me from the door.

I swallowed hard, searched for the words and knew there were none. "It isn't quite as you say. I did not leave them. Maximus took Lily away from me. He has forbidden me ever to see them again. But he had his reasons. I did have an affair which he discovered. With his brother." I looked them straight in the eye. I would not lie. They could think what they liked - perhaps it was part of my punishment.

"His brother? You dirty little slag." Kirsty threw at me. My mother rested a hand on her arm to restrain her. My father just walked out of the back kitchen door and disappeared.

"Yes...his brother, Terry. I am not running away with him. I have no idea where he is and will not be seeing him again. It was all over by the time Maximus found out. Not that it makes much difference..."

I stood up and slipped on my jacket. "I'm going away - for a long time. I'll leave you this number - you can contact me if there is need. I don't expect you ever to forgive me. But I want you to know that I love my daughter and I love my husband. I will bear the guilt for what I did and I will not have anything said against him. He is a fine man- and no one knows that more than I. But...it is over...he will not change his mind. Please, look after Lily for me. She is my precious gift, the most perfect thing he ever gave me. Surely even you can pity a woman who has lost her only child? Whatever wrong she has done?" I felt a trickle of tears spill down my cheek. My mother sobbed. My sister faced me up.

"I'm too busy feeling sorry for them to have the energy for you...or your boyfriend..."

I turned on my heel and left them to it. They couldn't punish me more than I did myself for what I had done.

Up on a hill, the whole of the valley stretched out before me, sitting on a tree stump, staring over the distance, I realized that I was now completely alone in the world. I had cut every trace. Severed every link. Locked every door. There was a sort of cathartic peace descending on me- like a person on the brink of execution. There is no turning back. It will soon be done. Let it all go. You are passing from one life to the next. Atonement is at hand. There are only two ways that one can deal with a life wasted. Run and hide from your obligation- but then you have lie for the rest of your life. Or simply start again. I was my own boss now- free of any obligation but to myself. If I had to give them up then at least I would be author of my own destiny; I would use the unwanted freedom and put it to some use. Perhaps one day, I would be able to look myself in the eye again and realize that this had all happened for a reason. But even if I couldn't, I would go forward not back.

The wind whipped my hair around my face as I stood up and took a deep gulp of liberty. I raised my voice and shouted, as loud as I could. "I love you, Maximus, only you...I love you, Lily..." and watched as the wind carried my words through the air to wherever they were. They would be always in my heart, even if not in my life.

I turned back to the hire car and set out on the road. I had a night flight to catch.

 

 

MAXIMUS

The days pass easily enough- I have my work and then there is Lily who is so fragile and quiet these days. I fear that she will be pulled down by these events and I try everything I can think of to ease her and distract her from the inevitable question: "When is my Mummy coming home?"

I cannot answer her. I evade the question. She soon stops asking it but I think it is still in her mind as she watches every time a car passes by or there is a ring on the doorbell. Her grandparents are forever calling and do their best, but she is docile and subdued, not my lively little girl these days.

I have engaged an agency Nanny to watch her during the day but she is not to my taste, a young unmarried woman who seems to spend most of her time on my telephone and does not seem to have the character to tend to the needs of my child. I have an appointment with a prestigious firm of Nannies to the Upper Classes. It will be expensive but I want the real thing- an older woman who will devote herself to my daughter and in some way replace the mother that she will now never have.

I have removed every picture of Uma from Lily's view. It is not that I wish to make her forget- but I don't wish her to remember, either. A child's memory is short and the hurt will fade, as long as the truth is not thrust into her face day after day. Would that I was a child and that my memory was short! For I will never forget. The memory of everything is etched on my consciousness so deep that it drives everything else away.

I know things now that I did not know then. I have been told of a curse, a charm, a malevolent act done by a wicked woman to harm us. So some sense is made of it. And yet...I felt that effect- so did Ann- but we did not fall. Why did she not fight it? Why did she go to him time and time again? I can understand his weakness- what man could withstand a woman like Uma if she turned her gaze on him? But why did she succumb? She must have loved him. I believe she would not have acted merely out of the fire in her loins. She loved him and the spell freed her to do what she did again and again - and then lie and deceive me, treat me like a fool. What did she hope to gain? Where is she now? With him? Where else would she go?

Time passes. It is night. The nights are the hardest. Once Lily is asleep and that wretched girl is about her silly business, on the phone or watching endless junk TV, I sit in my study and stare at the wall. And the same hopeless questions wrack my brain and the same images assail me. Every moment of her life with me, playing out like an endless newsreel. I thought she loved me. I believed that I was the only man she would ever want again. But I was not enough for her. Well, let her have him and see if he makes her happy. I am done with all of them.

I have washed my hands of that godless world in which I had found myself although I am now aware that the real driving force of our mutual tragedies is now revealed to be Isobel.  But women are like that- they pick men up and squeeze them dry, tossing them aside when something more to their taste walks by. My world was right. Keep women under control- for they are faithless, wanton creatures. I shall never trust another woman as long as I live.

She came to me last night. That girl who shares my house. I was in the bathroom and she walked in, pretending that it was an accident. I was naked, wrapped only in a towel. She apologised and gave me the eye, said she was a bit lonely and had a bottle of wine in her room. I told her that her contract would be over as soon as I had found a more suitable replacement; she shrugged and said: "I was only suggesting a bit of fun. You want to be a nobhead, then it's not my concern. Wonder why your wife left?"

I couldn't even bother to lose my temper with her. It merely confirms what I already know about modern women.

I no longer feel desire. I feel nothing. I am glad of it. I shall be free of the curse of my manhood and never look at a woman sexually again. I will devote myself to the one female that deserves my love. My daughter- that poor innocent child! She will be a different kind of woman. I shall ensure that.

My eye falls upon the letter that my wife left for me before she flew away with her lover. I torment myself once more by reading it.

 

 

I took a match and set light to the epistle, burnt my last contact with her, and watched as the paper turned to ashes in the grate. I would dig out every trace of her presence in my life, as once I had gouged out another allegiance from my flesh. Faithless woman. There is no going back in life. Ever.

 

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