Elizabeta arrived twenty minutes later.
"Come in," said Lucas, his face serious. Elizabeta smiled and followed him into the house.
"You'd best sit down," said Lucas, then moved to sit next to her.
'Lucas," Elizabeta started, "since you came back I've been thinking that maybe – maybe I made the wrong choice when I married Peter, that maybe I should have held out for you –"
"You should have," said Lucas angrily, "when you married me you promised it would be for life, not just until I was out of sight and it was convenient for you to forget about me and start with someone new."
"How can you say that," Elizabeta cried, "I waited for you – for two years I waited! I loved you Lucas, you know that, I still love you though it has brought me nothing but sorrow so far," she said bitterly.
"And Peter – your husband," Lucas said, spitting the words out with distaste, "what about him – shouldn't you be at home with him at the moment – kissing him, warming his bed," he said harshly.
Elizabeta looked at Lucas with despair, "He found out about us – that you'd been seeing me. Since then things have been …difficult between us. And now – now it's over."
She continued, "Lucas, I want things to go back to the way we were before you went away. I was happy then. You were happy too. Let's start again."
"I need to think," said Lucas gravely as he stood, "just give me some time to think."
Elizabeta wasn't surprised to see Lucas move towards the door and leave. She knew what he would be doing. Lucas did his best thinking on the move. She understood that – she would be patient while he worked out the issues in his head and made a decision about their future. She could wait for twenty minutes or half an hour for him. God knows she had enough practice at waiting.
Elizabeta sat silently on the couch, examining her nails while wondering if her son Alexander would be sleeping soundly tonight without her.
Her musing was interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing to break the stillness of the night.
"Hello," she said.
"Oh," said Jo, startled to hear a female voice and wondering whether she had mistaken the telephone number. "I was looking for Lucas North – do I have the correct number?"
"Yes," came the reply, "He's not here just now, but he'll be back soon."
Her voice was foreign. It took a moment to place her accent but then it clicked. Russian. She was Russian, Jo thought. From there it took her only a few seconds to draw the conclusion that she must most likely be Lucas' ex wife. Visiting him late.
"Oh – could you tell Lucas that he left his wallet here, I – I can bring it to work tomorrow I just wondered whether he needed it sooner," she finished uncertainly.
"He is away now. You give it to him tomorrow."
"Oh, yes, yes I'll do that, "said Jo quietly. "Thank you."
Jo put the phone down. In the last few moments of the conversation she'd processed what Lucas's ex wife visiting him late at night would mean to her.
Her time with Lucas and baby Toby that evening had made her think that maybe being a mother would be something to look forward to, that there would be happiness and laughter and someone to help and support her and care for her baby as much as she did.
Now she could see only a bleak future stretching ahead of her where life would be an ongoing struggle to make ends meet and to battle overwhelming tiredness and despair each and every day, with the constant worry at the back of her mind about what would happen if she buckled under the pressure of it all.
She's seen what that was like, what that did to women. There were enough single mothers at her work - there were enough of them at any workplace. And her life would be filled with loneliness, while Lucas would start again with his wife and build a family. A family that wouldn't include her or her baby.
Jo felt her breath hitch in her throat and her legs give way as she slithered down the wall to collapse on the floor, tears sliding down her face as silent sobs wracked her body.
**