«Marina, you can’t leave me! What will I do without you?»
«Same as alwaysdrink from dawn till dusk!»
I slammed the front door and collapsed into the driver’s seat, tears streaming down my face. How had our life come to this? A year ago, our family had been the picture of happinessenvied, of course. People always envy what they dont have. Thats just how the world works.
****
«Marina, pack quicklygrab Vlads things too! Ive got a surprise. And dont forget warm clothes.»
My husband NicholasNikolaus, as I called him when he was being playfulloved surprises. This time, he took us out of London to ride snowmobiles. His colleague had bought a country estate about sixty miles outside the city. Not just any estateit looked like a medieval castle, complete with turrets and stone walls. You couldnt call them mere fences.
«Well? What do you think?» he asked, watching my stunned expression.
«Theres something about this place sends a chill down my spine.»
«Youre just cold. Come inside, you havent seen the fireplace yet.»
The interior was even more unsettling than the exterior. But the men loved it, so I kept quietno point arguing about taste.
I hated the taxidermy mounted on the walls, even if Nicholas insisted they were fake. Still grotesque. Meanwhile, the men happily devoured grilled meat under the gaping jaws of a boars head. Vlad, in true boyish fashion, brandished a toy sword, battling imaginary monsters. I kept my eyes on the fire, avoiding the decor.
Perhaps the memory of that day is so dark because it was the last of our old life. Later, the owner would roll out two snowmobilesone of which would take our sons life. Nicholas, wrecked by guilt, would drown himself in whisky, trapped in his own private hell.
I dont know why I held on when he couldnt. The pain was unbearable, but I refused to let it consume me. No one around me suffered like I did. They smiled, oblivious.
Sometimes, I wanted to join Nicholasto numb the agony with drink. But I knew it would only make things worse. Drunkenness breeds raw emotionanger, resentment, bitterness. Thats what ruled him now, his shell of rage impenetrable.
I hadnt meant to leave permanentlyjust to escape for a while. I started the car and drove, snowflakes falling like perfect pixels on the windshield. I stopped at petrol stations, drank coffee in roadside cafés, even checked into a hotel to sleep.
No destination in mind. Just away.
At some point, I veered off the motorway and found myself in a sleepy Cotswold village. I parked near a small green and sat motionless for who knows how long.
«Youll catch cold,» a voice tapped at the window.
An elderly woman walked a snow-white poodle, its curls pristine against the frost. On impulse, I stepped out.
«Youve been sitting there a while. Engine offI worried something was wrong.»
«Something is,» I whispered.
Why is it easier to confess to a stranger? Maybe because they dont dig for blame, dont rifle through your past for «reasons» like my mother did»Nicholas drinks because his great-uncles cousin was a drunk.» A stranger just listens.
Somehow, I wound up at her kitchen table, clutching chamomile tea, tears soaking a crumpled tissue. Id thought Id cried myself dry months ago. Turns out, Id just buried it deep to avoid empty condolences.
«Marina, Ive made up the sofa. Rest, then go wherever nowhere is.»
I nodded. The sofa was closer than the car.
I woke smilingsunlight through lace curtains, a clock ticking, a rough tongue licking my hand.
«Charlie,» I remembered the poodles name. His grin was absurdly human.
«Charlie, leave the poor girl alone. Especially before breakfast.»
Aunt Rosemy rescuerbrought in fresh coffee and cinnamon buns.
«Insomnia baking,» she said. «The buns prefer silent praisemaybe an eye roll and a sigh.»
One bite, and I understood. Heavenly.
Nicholas used to bring me breakfast in bed toosandwiches, yoghurt, even pickled herring once. The memory made me laugh, not ache.
I didnt apologize for intrudingit wouldve offended her. After breakfast, I dozed again, waking at dusk. Charlie snored beside me. Id never slept so long.
«Good Lord!» I scrambled up. The house was quiet. «Have I gone mad? Sleeping a full day in a strangers home?»
Charlie blinked at me.
The room wasnt an old womansposters of footballers, dumbbells by the window. A framed photo showed two young men in uniform.
The front door opened.
«Sleepyheads! Its nearly supper,» Rose called.
«Im so sorryI dont know what came over me.»
«Sleep heals. Hungry? I bought cakewe deserve a little joy.»
My stomach growled agreement.
Dinner was rabbit stew»From an admirer with a farm. A hundred thirty-five rabbits, all named. Mad, but hardworking. Keeps proposing.»
«How long have you lived alone?» I ventured.
«Thirty years. Buried my sonolder than yours. Pain fades, but you learn to carry it. After the funeral, my husband and I became strangers. Two years later, he drank himself to death in his village. I nearly followed, till an old woman told me: Live, or youll never see them again. So I endure, hoping to earn that reunion.»
Suddenly, I didnt want to leave. This felt like homeRose, Charlie, the floral wallpaper.
The next morning, the doorbell rang. Nicholas stood there, disheveled.
«No lover, then,» he muttered, stepping inside.
«What lover?»
«Any. Given this backwater, I expected at least a mediocre one.»
Rose chuckled. «Pancakes and pickled mushrooms. Youll like them.»
We talked for hours. Hed smashed a whisky bottle after I left, then panicked when he woke sober. «If I lost you too» Hed tracked my phone to this «godforsaken hamlet,» interrogated neighbors.
Rose laughed hardest. «You thought my flat hid some bodybuilder?»
We stayed two more days. The villageFarthington, not «backwater»was charming. We held hands walking snowy lanes, fed pigeons crusts from bakery rolls. To outsiders, we looked happynot the shattered people wed been.
But all escapes end.
Returning home, I braced for the grief to resurface. Yet Nicholass steady grip kept me grounded.
«Well need a new rug,» he said, eyeing the whisky stain.
«Keep it. Like Rose kept her sons weights and posters.»
We finally cleared Vlads roomdonating toys, saving keepsakes. We even laughed: «Remember when you let him wear that gorilla mask to the zoo?»
That night, we talked frankly. Nicholas admitted it wasnt his faultno one couldve avoided that crash. Blaming him was like blaming a hare darting into the snowmobiles path.
I fell asleep in his arms for the first time in a year.
****
Nine months later, Vlad got a sisterlikely conceived that night.
Id hesitated to tell Nicholas, seeking Roses advice first. We even skipped our usual seaside holiday to visit her in Farthington. Shed finally accepted her rabbit farmers proposal; we were wedding guests.
That morning, I blurted: «Nicholas, Im pregnant.»
«What?»
«Were having a baby.»
He kissed me long, then cradled my bellyour daughter quiet under his palms.
