Suddenly an unfamiliar voice from the driver seat broke into my empty dream with a sharp, high and demanding tone.

“That will be seventeen pounds fifty pence.”

I forced my heavy eyes open and lethargically pushed my back up from the seat to reach into my pocket for change. Finding it, I reached forwards and placed it quickly in the hand of the taxi driver being careful not to make any physical contact with him. “Thanks”, I muttered gruffly and he nodded, meeting my eyes only in the rear-view mirror.

“You want me to wait?” he asked unenthausiastically.
“No, you’re fine”, I said distractedly whilst reaching for the hand of the door.
I had no possessions with me and so, as the cab drew away, its lights fading into the dark through the curtain of rain; I stood alone, insignificant and solitary.

I looked up at the typical semi-detached house in front of me and a series of snap shot memories pierced my brain, making the world spin in front of me and my knees buckle.

Lying in the middle of the road, my newly worn clothes soaking up the raging torrent that flew past me I found myself howling with uncontrollable laughter. I shook with it, and the tears streaming down my face quickly began clutching my throat and sobs bubbled up from inside me, combining with the laughter to leave me wildly writhing, clutching my stomach as the heavens released their downpour onto my defenceless body.

My mind detached itself from the scene of incredible embarrassment and raised above my body to stare down in wonder, humiliation and superiority. It shook forlornly before sinking unwillingly back down to fill the corners of my head and rid me of the madness that danced joyfully through me.

Gasping with my eyes open wide, I sat straight up. As if I had been drowning I filled myself with the beautiful taste of oxygen and the desire to live rushed back into my tingling fingertips.

I don’t know for how long I sat there, but eventually the hope and happiness that had lived in me for those few moments faded and I felt calm, dreadful nothingness once again.

I glanced along the street from where I was seated. The perfectly symmetrical houses with their perfectly symmetrical flower arrangements and perfectly positioned trees which lined the perfectly straight road seemed so familiar. I unsurely pushed myself up onto my feet, stumbling slightly as I reached my full height. I carefully took a step, and then another and before I knew it I was standing in front of the red door from my past.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted my shaking hand and pulled back the heavy iron knocker, letting it fall and hit the door with painful lethargy. I felt the vibrations in the air and as they reached me, my body trembled with them. My beating heart punched the words ‘be strong’ into me and pushed them around my body.

I lifted it again. And again. Eventually muffled movement seeped through the letterbox and under the cracks around the door. The sound of a light switch being pushed seemed to turn on a light in my head and, as if awakened, I looked down at the confused mess that was myself, soaking wet, crumpled and mud splattered.

Aggressively, the door was pulled open and the rage-filled eyes of the man who stared into mine faded to confusion and then flashed to complete terror. ‘At least he recognised you’ someone said from inside.

We stood for a while not speaking before uncomfortably he shifted from one leg to another. Cleared his throat and said in a squeak “Julia”.

I remained mute, enjoying the effect I was having on his hands, which trembled and sweat as he held each in a tight, desperate clasp. He stared at me searchingly and hopefully but the hate that seemed to seep from every opening, every single sweat gland must have burned in my eyes, for he couldn’t hold my gaze.

He coughed and cleared his throat once more, so that when he next spoke his voice was deep and soothing, exactly as I remembered it.

“I…. I didn’t know you were due out.” He stumbled.
I carried on staring, savouring this moment for which I had been preparing myself for fifteen years. ‘Oh Yes. The time just flew by’, said the voice in my head.

It soon became obvious that he wasn’t going to invite me in and unwilling to break the uncomfortable silence that I held him in as if he were trapped in my web, I simply took a step towards him. He flinched away and stepped back with such obvious horror and fear that enough room was left for me to silkily, proudly and superiorily step past him into the house I once called home.

In a desperate rush he tried to close the door but I was already in and it slammed behind me, leaving us standing close, close enough to be one, in a world of our own, the world that existed sixteen years ago. Repulsed he stepped back and I looked at him properly for the first time.

He had aged badly; this was clear. His grey hair was matted and uncared for and his skin was rough and wrinkled like the trunk of a tree. He had also lost a lot of weight. Hopefully through worry that one day tonight might happen to him.

“Hello darling”, I simpered sarcastically.
“What are you doing here>” He demanded quickly, loudly and quite childishly I thought.
“Aren’t you pleased to see me? I asked sweetly, my head cocked to one side. He paused unsure. I saw his mind working, obviously thinking me weak and vulnerable. This almost made me laugh out loud and the voice in my head, gasping for breath, moaned ‘we’ll soon see who’s weak and vulnerable.’

Deepening his voice and extending his posture, he forced a steady strong voice to announce “Listen….”
“No, you listen”. I savagely and loudly interrupted. He flinched and seemed to shrink into his shoes. “I’ve been waiting fifteen years for this, and you are not going to ruin it for me. How could you do that to me? To us? To the children? To my family? You left me in there to rot, to rot and to die, well now it’s your turn. You’re going to feel the pain tonight that I’ve been feeling since the day you betrayed me.”

Unwillingly I felt tears welling up in my eyes and the ache in my heart seemed overpowering. I clutched at it, muttering under my breath, ‘don’t let me down, don’t let me down’. I’d run over this conversation millions of times in my head and not once did I break down crying. He had done many times though.

“How could you? Why…. How could….? But I couldn’t speak. The sobs caught in my throat and my head started spinning. In slow motion, I felt myself beginning to fall. I never hit the floor. Instead I found myself in his arms and he was clutching me, pulling me so close I melted into him and the last fifteen years melted as well. Fizzling into nothingness as I felt the comfort, love and contentedness I hadn’t done for so long.

I feebly began hitting his back, where my arms were desperately held, trying to penetrate this complete, loving embrace and imprint some of my hurt onto his skin. However, soon I gave up and he gently lowered me onto a large comfy sofa, which seemed to engulf me and my hate.

“Let me get you some coffee. Milk, two sugars still?” An argument raged inside of me and the gentle heartfelt passion with which he spoke overpowered both of them and coaxed the argues into obedient silence.

I nodded at him gratefully. It occurred to me it was him who should be grateful but my tired body could no longer even process this information.

I looked around the room while he was gone. It was very tidy, books lined the bookshelves and photos lined the walls. The table sat exactly centre and very carefully placed underneath it was a red carpet, lush and luxurious, just as I remembered it.

I pushed myself up and walked to the photos. My laughing face shone out of a picture in the corner of the room next to the bookcase. My two darling, precious children gazed up at my face from my arms with unconditional love and the picture radiated a warmth that I stretched for, pulling it close and wishing myself back there.

“Hi”, his voice came from behind me. I whirled around and a steaming cup of coffee was held cautious and suggestively in his now steady hands. I took it from him, giving him the picture in return. He glanced at it before placing it face down on the table behind him, his eyes never leaving my body but his eyes flickering nervously.

I took a sip and the warmth filled my body, replacing the hate I had been holding for so long. He looked me up and down before wandering almost too casually to the window, pulling back the curtains and glancing at me quickly before looking out.

An icy cold washed over me and I gulped back the warmth, the hate pushing up from my toes to my fingertips and from the roots to the tips of my wet ungroomed hair. I put the coffee on the table next to the face down picture and stood up straight.

“You bastard” I said calmly.
“No”. He began shaking. He couldn’t even think of anything else to say. “No,” he repeated and pushing away from the wall ran for the door. I removed the gun from my pocket and slowly followed him. I could hear him clumsily climbing the stairs. I couldn’t feel, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear, I could no longer even believe.

As I climbed the stairs after him I saw the phone, hanging off the hook and chuckled gently to myself. I reached the top of the stairs and looked at the five closed doors scattered, unwelcomly along the white hall. Tears rolling down my cheeks I walked towards the door of my daughter, my little baby, my darling girl.

She was all grown up now, her room was no longer pink but a dark blue colour and her possessions that were uncaringly arranged around the room bore no significance to the little girl I had known all those years ago. I walked to the window and pulled back the curtain.

Police everywhere. I spotted them immediately in the neat bushes and purposely planted trees. Tears dripped from my chin and I saw them fall slowly to the floor, splitting into a thousand droplets on the dusty floor.

I walked to my babys bed and wrapped myself in her covers, searching for warmth. But I knew I’d never feel warm again and the struggle from outside the door was my signal to lift the gun and with a steady grip release the trigger. The bang and deep cry seemed muffled. I was already dead in almost every meaning of the word.

Unsteadily I got to my feet and walked to where my bleeding husband lay. One more shot. This time in the head.

The world span as from another place a door was forced open by men in police uniform who shouted and ran and whispered and scurried. I wasn’t crying anymore. I had used up all my tears and all that was left was to raise the cold metal of the gun to my own head.

In the second I pulled the trigger my eyes closed and my own young, happy, smiling face laughed in delight at me, my babies reached out to hold me and the dark emptiness of the last fifteen years disappeared along with this wonderful, beautiful picture.

END OF FIRST PAGE