Hi dear readers. I'm sorry I will be a little slow on updates for a while, because I've taken up another project, which is taking me a lot of time too. So I chose to pblish a rather shorter chapter today, so that I won't keep you waiting too long. And besides I felt it held itself right this way. Reviews are very much appreciated!
November 2017
The next morning, John stayed closeted in the guest-room, in order to avoid Vera. She had told her work colleagues she was taking a few days off, to "care for" her sick husband, although John knew very well it was to watch him and prevent Anna from coming back. John opened his laptop. He thought he would try to work for a bit. He didn't make much money lately, but it would only get worse if he didn't reply to his few clients. As he opened his mail inbox to check what he had to do, he saw Anna's email. His heart swelled, and he knew at last for sure that he had not imagined her in the hospital. Tears came to his eyes as he read her words. She really was an angel. But he had to be honest with her and warn her about what she was risking, sticking by him. He hesitated as to how to start his message. He wanted to write "my love", or "my darling", but felt it was a little premature. So he went for simplicity.
"Anna,
Reading you fills me with joy. And joy is a feeling I haven't encountered for a very, very long time. But I have to tell you, that Vera has been making threats about you, about us. In her words, she said she would "make your life hell", if you keep trying to help me leave her. I'm very grateful for everything you're prepared to do, but I don't want you to feel compelled, and I want you to know that you are free to turn around and go back to your quiet life. Vera is dangerous, and I don't want you to put yourself at risk. I would totally understand if you prefer to keep out of this mess. I will try and get divorced anyway, and maybe we can meet again a little further down the road, when things have settled. Let me know.
Yours sincerely, John"
When he had sent his reply, he thought about what she had written about gathering his most important papers. He started thinking about what he would need, and concluded that most of those documents were already on his laptop. But he had to find his passport. And a new phone. He remembered that he must have kept his previous one somewhere in the house, but he had forgotten where. His passport was supposed to be in one of his desk's drawers. He got up and started to look for it, but didn't find it. He was combing every space of his desk when an email notification beeped. It was Anna again:
"Call me when she leaves the house.", was the only sentence she had written. Apparently Vera's threats did not deter her. He smiled and admired her strong-mindedness. Or was it foolishness? Anyway, he hoped she realized what she was taking up. He started searching through his stuff again, still not finding his passport, but came across his previous phone, that he had had the good idea to keep, just in case. He would need to charge it, and put his SIM card in it, and he would be able to use it again, until he could buy a new one. He went downstairs and looked around for the broken phone. He cursed himself for leaving it in Vera's claws the previous day. He walked down the hall and saw that she had fortunately let it lie on the table near the door. As he retrieved it silently, he passed the living-room's door, and saw that Vera was sitting in the couch, watching some TV, and that the room was still in the same state of untidiness it had been before he had gone to the hospital. He was so drunk on whisky back then that he hadn't even noticed. He couldn't care less about that at that time. Now, he still didn't care that much, since he knew that he would soon leave this place for ever. But still, he felt a bit ashamed that Anna had discovered him in the middle of such a mess. He shook his head when he noticed that Vera had crossed her feet on the coffee table, just near the two empty pills bottles, that she hadn't bothered to put into the bin. He almost called out to her, to ask if she knew where his passport was, but refrained at the last moment. That would be a stupid thing to do, warning her that he was preparing things for an escape. Even if she knew where it was, she wouldn't tell him, and she might even take it to hide it somewhere he would have a hard time finding it. The thought struck him that maybe she had already done that, and it was precisely why he had not found it in its usual place. She was well capable of this. He went back to his desk and busied himself in re-activating his old phone and putting it on charge. When this was done, and he had checked that the phone did work, he texted Anna to inform her he had a phone again. She replied immediately. Then he set to search though the house, as quietly as he could, for his lost passport.
x x x x
Summer 2010
In the weeks following the miscarriage, Vera seemed to be very low. She cried a lot, which mildly surprised John, since he had never thought she nurtured such a strong maternal desire, and would grieve that much on a lost early pregnancy. She hadn't told her family she was pregnant, so she had no one to mourn with except for John. And indeed, when they went to see her family, she managed to be all smiles and to hide her pain quite well. He himself felt very bad too, since the prospect of becoming a father was the only thing that had shed a little light in his otherwise very dull life. So he stayed with Vera, thinking that they needed to go through this loss together. A few weeks down the road, he suggested the idea that they tried again for a baby. After all, it was why they had ended up married in the first place. But Vera dismissed the idea, arguing that the wound was still too raw and that she didn't feel up to facing another pregnancy and risking losing it again. Hoping to help her come to terms with their loss and move on, John tried to be as good a husband as he could, and tended to her every needs, of which she seemed to have a lot. Since she was working full-time at the university, and he was home-working, she let him do all the house-work, but kept complaining about how he was doing things. He gradually fell behind in his academic work, to the point when his thesis director told him that if he didn't come up to scratch quite soon, he would have to give up on him.
It was a late August evening, and John was finishing to wrap up dinner when Vera came back from work. John had not had any more contact from his Yorkshire friends for more than a month, and felt very lonely here in Dublin. Vera's family was not nasty to him, but he didn't feel like he belonged. His mood was very low here, and he felt his relationship with Vera was sucking all of his vital energy. He had made a decision, and tonight was when he would break it to Vera.
- Is dinner ready?, said Vera without any other preamble as she walked into the kitchen.
- Yes dear, he replied, taking the dish from the oven.
- God I'm starving. Urgh, people are so dumb out there at the library. I feel I'm doing all the work. Nothing would get done right if it wasn't for me. So, what did my sweet husband cook for me?, she said, as she came behind him and squeezed his buttocks.
John tensed at her move, but did not protest.
- I made some lasagna. My mum's recipe.
They both sat down and John served their plates.
- There you are.
Vera tucked in, and as she chewed on her first mouthful, she started frowning.
- Did you put celery in that?
- Er, yes. Just a little bit though.
- Come on, John, you know I hate celery!
Pushing her plate back, she left the table sighing in exasperation, went to the fridge and started to craft herself a sandwich. He looked down, sighing too, and took a piece of the lasagna. They tasted very good in his opinion. It was a family recipe, which for him held as much love as taste. Well that was one more thing he wouldn't share with his wife. When she had made her sandwich, Vera didn't come back to the table, but went to the living-room and turned the telly on. John ate his plate alone in silence, then put everything away. Now he needed to talk to her.
- Vera?
- Hmm?, she said distractedly, not taking her eyes of the telly.
- I need to talk to you.
A short silence followed, until she said:
- Well? I'm listening.
But her eyes were still on the screen.
- Would you mind turning the telly off?, he asked.
She sighed again in an annoyed manner, and finally turned her attention to him.
- So? What's the matter?
- I…, he hesitated. I think I need to go back to England. For a while at least.
- Oh. And why, pray?
- Well, I… I don't know, I feel I'm not adjusting here. I can't get any good work done, and I'm really behind on my PHD schedule, I need to go back to discuss with my director. I'm going to end up losing my grant if I don't react. And besides… I'm not happy here. I miss my friends, I miss the classes I used to teach there… So, since you say you don't want to try again for a baby right now, I thought maybe it would do me good to go back there for a while.
Vera looked back at him. A short flash of anger glinted in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by some fat tears.
- I know what you're missing, she muttered under her breath.
She got up and started pacing the living-room.
- So, you're telling me you'd leave me on my own here, just when we've suffered that terrible loss?! What kind of husband does that to his wife? How cruel is that? Don't you think I need you right now? Do you know how much it still hurts every day?
- Yes, I do know, he whispered.
- So don't you care about me at all? Your presence here, and what we have between us, it's the only thing that's holding me together right now! You can't leave me on my own! I don't know what I'd do… Don't you think our marriage is more important than anything else? Than your so-called "friends", who don't seem to miss you that much, for all the calls and messages you've gotten lately!
She came back to him and snuggled into his arms.
- John, love, I need you… I can't make it without you… Please don't leave me alone.
As she sniffed and sobbed in his chest, he stroked her hair, and sighed:
- Alright, alright.
She sure had a weird way of showing it day after day, but she really seemed to care for him.
A month later, John received an official letter from York university, informing him that his PHD grant was being terminated for lack of results. His friends has stopped trying to reach him, since every conversation ended up in an argument about Vera. He had no more income of his own, and his home was Vera's. Trapped in a loveless and abusive relationship, John slowly descended into depression, and whisky became his closest friend.
