Chapter 33

“Well” he said, making for the door, embarrassed at his sudden outburst.  “I’d better be on my way!  My wife will be wondering where I am!”

“From the sound of what you’ve said, I doubt that she’ll really care!”

The instant she spoke, she regretted what she had just said, but it was too late to take it back.  She went over to where he stood, and put her hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Jon” she said, her eyes filling with tears.  “I shouldn’t have said that!”

“Why not?  It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but you didn’t need me to point it out to you!  Please, sit down, and finish your coffee!”

He hesitated for a moment, then returned to his seat on the sofa.  Linda watched him from the kitchen doorway, her heart aching for him.  He noticed her concerned glance, and once again, his fragile self-control gave way.  She came over and sat down next to him, with two more steaming cups of coffee.

“Here!” she said, offering him a box from the coffee table.  “It’s a good thing I’ve got plenty of tissues!”

“I’ll buy you another box!” he said, managing a tremulous smile.  “God, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to make such an exhibition of myself!  I bet you could think of better ways to spend your evening!”

“Not really!” she said, returning his smile.  “I’ve enjoyed your company!”

“Even though I’ve spent the last twenty minutes crying on your shoulder?”

“You had good reason to” she said, putting her hand on his.  “Your whole world is falling apart in front of you.  I wish there was something I could do to help! You don’t deserve this!”

“Everything was going so well, Linda!” he said, his voice almost a whisper.  “Beautiful wife, three beautiful girls, then – what I thought was the icing on a very beautiful cake – a little baby boy!  I had it all – or so I thought!  I should have known it would all blow up in my face.  Where did it all go so wrong?”

“Only your wife can answer that!” she said, taking his empty cup and placing it on the table.  “What are you going to do now?”

“I’ll have to go home!  I don’t want my children worrying about me – I have to consider their feelings.  It’s going to be unbearable, being in the same house as my wife, knowing that she doesn’t want me anywhere near her!  I love her so much, Linda – how can I make her see that?  How can I make her love me back?  I want to go back, yet I don’t!  Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes, it does – but you can’t give up!  You can’t give up hope that she’ll love you again.  Even if she turns you away, keep trying!  I think, deep down, she still cares, you know – it’s just the post-natal depression talking!  I think once she begins to get over that, her feelings may begin to come back! In the meantime, just be there for her whenever she needs you!  Just hang in there!”

“I’m sure you’re right!  That gives me something to hold on to!  I’ll just have to live in hope, won’t I?  Anyway, I’ll be going now – it was lovely meeting you, and I know that a lovely girl like you will soon find someone to share her life with!”

With that, he kissed her on the cheek, and began the long walk home.  He had not bothered to bring the car, as he thought the walk would clear his head, and he did not like to drink and drive.  As he walked along the well-lit streets, he heard footsteps behind him, but did not take any notice.  Suddenly, two young men drew level with him.  One of them said:

“Got a light, mate?”

“No!” he said, surprised at his question.  “Sorry, I don’t smoke!”

He thought that would be an end to it, but the two men kept walking alongside him, and he began to feel a little uneasy.

“What do you want?” he said, trying not to show any fear.  “I told you, I haven’t got a light, now please stop following me!”

“Don’t be like that, mate!” said one of the men.  “We’re only trying to be friendly!”

“Well, you can get stuffed!  I haven’t got a light, or anything else, so just shove off!”

The two men gave him an ominous sideways glance, and just walked off.  He carried on down the street, thinking he had seen the last of them.  A few minutes later, he heard a car slow down behind him, and looked to see a bright red Vauxhall Corsa.  He turned back again, just as the driver of the Corsa revved the engine, and he screamed with pain and fear as it mounted the pavement, and clipped his side, knocking him to the floor.  He looked up, and realised the occupants were the two men who had been accosting him a few minutes ago; they were laughing and cheering as they sped away.

For a minute or two, he just lay there on the pavement, quite unable to speak as every ounce of breath had been knocked out of him.  By now, pain was beginning to radiate throughout his whole body, and was making him feel quite sick.  After a few minutes, he managed to prop himself up on his elbow, but when he tried to stand, he doubled up with the pain in his ribs, hanging on to some railings for support.  He looked around in vain for someone to help him, then, realising that no one was forthcoming, he began to walk home.  Luckily, there were plenty of railings and streetlamps for him to hold on to, otherwise he would have passed out.  It seemed like hours, although it was only about twenty minutes, before he arrived home.  Wincing with the pain in his ribs, he searched in his pockets for his front door key, then realised that it just have fallen out of his pocket when the car had knocked him down. He swore under his breath, and banged on the door.  He tried not to knock too loud, as he did not want to wake the children, but he had to get in somehow.  He breathed a sigh of relief, as he heard footsteps approaching the door – it was Joanne.

“Jon!  What are you playing at?” she said, lowering her voice. “The kids are in bed!”

"Sorry” he said, leaning against the doorpost.  “I lost my front door key!”

As he entered the living room, and they could see him properly, they both gasped in horror at his appearance.  His face was scratched, and his arms were skinned and grazed from wrist to elbow – his other bruises weren’t quite so obvious.  He sat down on the sofa, leaning back, his eyes closed.

“What the hell happened to you?” said Joanne, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder.  She quickly removed it when he shouted with pain.

“Oh, nothing much!” he said, cuttingly.  “I just got mown down by some mad bar steward in a Corsa, just because I wouldn’t give him a light!”

“What!”  Joanne could not believe what she was hearing.  “Shouldn’t you go to hospital?”

“No!” he said, shifting around trying to make himself comfortable.  “All I need is a cup of tea, and a few painkillers!  I’ll be fine in the morning!”

“I’ll make it!” said Donna, getting up and disappearing into the kitchen.

“See!” he said, looking at Joanne, tears beginning to stream down his face.  “She couldn’t get away from me quickly enough!  God, I didn’t think it would ever come to this!”

“She’ll come round!” she said, softly.  “You’ll see!  Come here, let me clean up those grazes, I want to make sure there’s no dirt in them!  I know it’ll hurt, but someone has to do it!  I’ll be as gentle as I can!”

The next day, he was as stiff as a board, and every movement was pure agony, but after a few days, he was feeling much better – physically, at least.  Donna still seemed to be just going through the motions with little David, and, although she fed and changed him, she seemed to show very little affection for him. Even when she suggested a family outing, he knew she was only keeping up appearances, and not because she particularly wanted to be with him.

They visited a few shops, then decided to take the children down by the river, to feed the ducks.  As the three girls laughed and chattered excitedly, he glanced over at Donna, but she looked away.  He quickly brushed away the tears that sprang to his eyes, and suggested that they have something to eat at the small café overlooking the river.  It was a lovely day, so they decided to sit at the tables outside. After a while, Rosie began to get bored, and started to complain, stating that she wanted to go home.

“You can wait until we’ve finished!” said Donna, giving her a warning glance.  “now get back in your seat!”

Poking her tongue out at her mother, she went over to David’s pram, and began to fiddle with the brake.  She looked up at Jon, defying him to tell her to stop it – he was not in the mood for tantrums, and giving her that warning look she knew only too well, he said:

“Rosie!  Leave that pram alone, and get back in your seat, otherwise you’ll go straight to bed when we get home!”

“Don’t care!” she said, blowing a raspberry at him.

Suddenly losing it, he made a grab for her, but she ducked under his arm, and made straight for the pram again.  Using all the strength she possessed, she pulled the brake off, and taking hold of the handle, which was not easy as she had to reach up to do it, she began to push it.  As Jon got up to chase after her, she began to run faster, still holding on to the pram.  What she did not realise was that there was an incline leading down to the river, and the pram suddenly began to gather momentum.  Rosie could not hold it, and it slipped from her grasp, picking up speed at an alarming rate. As the water’s edge grew closer, Jon looked back at his wife’s terrified face, and, as the bloodcurdling screams of terror grew louder, he clamped his hand over his mouth, as he realised they were his own…..