Edited Out

Maggie left us and we all had tears in our eyes as the ambulance backed out of the drive. The children were full of questions about the practicalities of life. How could we visit Harry if we were in Redhill, and if we weren't, how would they go to school? They were very disappointed to hear that we couldn't visit the hospital. However, they seemed delighted to learn that all schools were closed for lockdown and we would be staying in Selsey to await Harry's return. As their isolation was over, we went for a walk on the beach, which seemed to make everyone feel better. Emma seemed quiet all day, and it wasn't until bedtime that I found out the reason. I was tucking her up in bed when she asked the question that had been troubling her all day.

'Mummy, did I make Daddy ill?'

'No, Sweetheart, the nasty virus made Daddy ill.'

'But Kylie caught it, and we sit together at school. Maybe I got it from her and gave it to Daddy.'

'Were you ill?'

'No.'

'Well, then you couldn't have caught it from Kylie, and if you didn't catch it you couldn't give it to Daddy.'

I hated lying to her, but no child should go through life thinking they'd made their father that ill.

By the time I'd made up the bed in a vacant bedroom I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I lay on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. I'm not a religious person, but I began speaking as if someone was listening.

'Why are you doing this? What has he ever done? I'm the one who did wrong, I'm the one who deserves to be punished. Harry's done nothing but be a good husband and father. What have my children done? Why do they deserve to suffer?'

Needless to say, I didn't get a reply.

When I called the next day, I took the phone into the garage so I could be on my own, and I was glad I did. I barely recognised him, he looked so pale. The oxygen mask had been replaced by tubes up his nose He told me that the doctor was unhappy with his progress and they might have to put him on a more active oxygen system. We talked about why we were still in Selsey.

'You can't visit, so you might as well go back to Redhill.'

'We are staying here. We may not be able to visit you but we feel closer. Emma is already worried because she thinks she made you ill. I think there would be a riot if I took them further away. Besides, this is a better place to be locked down. We can all go out on the beach for our daily exercise. The kids love it and we have a good internet connection for their school work.'

'This doesn't change anything, Isobel. I can't handle living with you, anymore.'

'We'll worry about that when you're fit and well. Right now you need me and I need to be here. When you get out of there and you're fit enough to look after yourself, I'll go back to Redhill if that's what you want. I'm going to hang up now, then I'm going to talk to the doctor and find out what is really happening. I'll call you again tomorrow. You can call me anytime you want and just one more thing, I love you. I know you don't believe me, but it's true and I'm going to keep on loving you no matter what you do.'

I did get hold of a doctor who agreed to speak to me if I promised not to keep calling. He told me that Harry was indeed in a bad way and that they were moving him into intensive care.

When I told the children about my chat with Harry, we decided to make a video for him. I used my phone to record them doing their school work, we made some cakes and I recorded them stirring the mix and eating the cakes. I sent the video clips to Harry by email, and before I put the children to bed I got an email thanking me and saying how much he enjoyed them. I showed the children the email and we agreed to do a similar thing the following day.

When I called again, Harry was wearing a clear plastic fronted mask which made talking difficult. He started sending me photographs with text messages I responded with emails with videos attached. I noticed a change when we shifted to email. The tone of his messages got more negative. My attempts to show him the children getting on with life seemed to have backfired. At the end of his fourth day in hospital, I got an email that chilled me to the bone.

Hi Issy, It looks like you are going to get your freedom sooner than I thought. They are going to put me on a ventilator tomorrow. That means I will be heavily sedated, so this will be my last email. Only half of the people who go onto ventilators survive, so this is probably the last message you will get from me. You will need to dig out my insurance policies. You'll find them in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet in my office at Redhill. There is a spreadsheet called editing projects in my work folder on my desktop. Could you please let the clients know that I can't finish the job? Tell Mark, I'll come back and haunt him if he doesn't treat you right.

Harry

I'd hoped it would not come to that, but I'd seen the warning signs in previous emails he was giving up. The day after he went into hospital I'd left the children to record their own message for Harry. It hadn't gone well and showed me that my talk to Emma hadn't been as successful as I thought. I couldn't look at her message without being heartbroken. She cried her way through an apology for making him ill, and a plea for him to get well soon. Andrew was much more stoical. He detailed my shortcomings in maths and asked him to get well so that he could help with the school work. I'd kept it from him because it seemed too negative, but now it was time for the big guns. I drafted a reply which was intended to make him angry.

How dare you give up? Okay, you've given up on me, I understand that. I deserve it, but what about Andrew and Emma? You have two wonderful children who need their Daddy. Emma blames herself for you getting ill in the first place. Can you imagine the effect on her if you just give up? Stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourself and fight this thing. You owe it to yourself but most of all you owe it to them. I've attached a message from your children. I suggest you watch it before writing yourself off.

I attached the video message sent it. I waited for an angry response but none came. By the time I went to bed I was in despair. Once again I found myself crying out to whoever controlled our destiny.

'This is not fair, why are you doing this to him? He's a good man. Why is he suffering while I'm walking about fit and healthy?'

I lay on the bed sobbing until I was disturbed by two small voices.

'What's wrong, Mum? Are you not feeling well?'

I gasped as I realised what they had been thinking.

'Oh no, sweethearts, Mummy is fine. She's just upset because Daddy is so ill.'

'Is he going to die?' asked Andrew.

Emma started to cry. I pulled her up onto the bed and hugged her.

'I don't think so, darlings, but he is very ill and it makes me sad to see him so poorly'

'I don't want Daddy to die,' said Emma.

'I know, Darling, and I'm sure he will be all right. Now, Daddy wouldn't like us to be upset so we must all be very brave and not let him see that we are worried.'

I took them both into my bed and hugged them to me. Locked in each other's arms, the three of us drifted off to sleep.

In the morning there was still no word from the hospital, so I called them. The nurse told me that Harry had shown a slight improvement overnight and was no longer expected to need a ventilator. I tried to call him, but the call went to voicemail. With isolation over, we could go out for an hour a day. We were walking on the beach when my phone beeped to say I'd received an email. I looked at the screen. The message was so short all of it appeared in the notice.

Bitch, What gives you the right to try to lay a guilt trip on me?

I answered trying to justify my position, but I didn't hear from him for another two days and that was only fleeting. I came in from the garden to see the children with my phone. I didn't know who they were talking to until Andrew said, 'Mum's here now, do you want to speak to her?... Oh, okay, Bye Dad.'

Andrew looked sheepishly at me.

'Dad said he was too tired and had to go. He said he's feeling better. He might be coming home soon.'

I picked up my phone and went up to my bedroom. Without much hope, I called Harry's phone. To my surprise, he actually answered. He didn't look well, but gone was the plastic mask and back were the nasal oxygen tubes.

'Oh, it's you,' was all he said with no hint of being pleased to see me.

'And it's good to see you, too. I can't say you're looking good but you are looking a lot better.'

'No thanks to you, I am starting to feel a bit better. Have you any idea what that email did to me?'

'I hope it made you angry, but more than that, I hope it made you realise how devastated we would all be without you. I'm sorry for upsetting you, but I was beginning to think you'd given up. You were so ill I would have understood if you'd wanted to die just to get it over with. I wasn't really trying to make you feel guilty; I just wanted you to see how much we all need you to get better.'

'Andrew says you cry every night and you talk to yourself. He's very worried about you. I appreciate you are probably missing Mark, but you have to pull it together. They need someone strong to depend on. While I'm in here that someone has to be you.'

'Oh, Harry, I don't miss him one iota. The only time he crosses my mind is when I think of what I've done to you.'

'Yeah, whatever, It doesn't alter the fact that you have to put a brave face on for the kids.'

'I will. It will be so much easier now I can see you're on the mend.'

'That's okay, then. I'm feeling tired now; I think I might have a nap. Goodbye.'

I went back downstairs and gathered my children into my arms.

'Daddy is getting better. Isn't that great?'

I held them tightly and tears filled my eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. Emma asked me why I was crying and seemed puzzled by the reply.

'Because I'm so happy, Darling.'

We had a celebration dinner of Fish and Chips from the local chip shop and made plans for Harry's return.

*****

It was another week before Harry came home. I wanted to kiss him, but I could see that he wasn't ready for that. I settled for a hug. The children joined in and even Harry had tears in his eyes. Coming home didn't mean that he was completely fit. He was still short of breath and couldn't manage the stairs without help, but he was looking more like the old Harry. I had spoken to his nurse in the hospital, who made it clear that he would need support for a while. I waited till the children had gone to bed before I sat down to talk with him.

'I know you don't want me here. I understand that, but right now you need me here so I'm going to stay. I don't expect to share your bed or even your room. I've moved into the one down the passage. I will stay as long as you need me, but if you want me to go, just say and I'll take the children back to Redhill with me. We can share the childcare as soon as you feel able.'

'Why?'

'Let's not talk about that now. Wait until you are stronger and I'll answer all your questions.'

'No, I mean why are you doing this? It would be better for you if I never recovered. In a divorce, you would get custody of the children. Of course, if I'd died it would have been even better for you.'

'Don't you dare say that. When have I ever done anything to make you think such a thing? I don't want a divorce. If you do, then I'll cooperate as long as it's fair... Why am I staying here to help you? Because I'm still your wife and that's what wives do.'

'Just doing your duty then?'

'No, dammit, You're going to make me say it aren't you. Even though my saying it makes you angry. All right, I'll say it. I love you, that's why I want to help you recover. I love you. I know you don't believe me, but it's true. I'm so sorry for what I did. If there was a way of going back and undoing it I would do it in an instant, but there isn't so I've got to live with the consequences.'

'The problem is that we've all got to live with the consequences. Pity you didn't think about that before you started. Now, I'm feeling tired. If it's all the same to you, I'm going to bed.'

We both got up and made our way to the main staircase. I helped him climb the stairs he used to run up only a few weeks before.

Harry continued to improve, and after two weeks we were able to take walks on the beach. It was on one of these walks that I broached the subject of me going back to Redhill.

'You don't need me here anymore, and I need to catch up with work. I can take the children back with me and bring them down at weekends.'

Harry said nothing for a while. We climbed over one of the groynes and as we started to walk on he took my hand.

'You could work from here; there is plenty of room. You could turn one of the top floor rooms into an office if you need one. There is even a separate staircase so that your clients don't have to meet the family.'

'I thought you would want to get rid of me.'

'I've got used to having you and the kids around. You said you'd stay until I told you to go.'

'No, I said stay as long as you need me but look at yourself; you don't need me anymore.'

'If you say so, it's just not the way I remember it.'

We walked a little further, still holding hands and side by side.

'Are you saying that you want me to move down here with you?'

He said nothing for a while and when he did it wasn't an answer.

'You really did leave him in the canal, didn't you?'

'You know I did, I told you.'

'It's pretty funny when you see it; watch this.'

He pulled out his phone and after a few strokes of his finger brought up a video showing Mark and me walking down the towpath.

'How did you get this? Did you have me followed?'

'Not me, it was his wife, Portia, or rather her father. They got suspicious of all his research trips, but don't let's talk about that, just watch.'

He turned up the volume and I could hear the splash as Mark hit the water. His voice could clearly be heard as he yelled at me, and my response was equally audible. Harry wound it back and played it again.

'This is the best part; watch as his head comes out of the water, it's like something out of a cartoon.'

I watched, and as Mark surfaced I noticed him blowing a stream of water from his mouth. It was like a scene from a slapstick comedy. It made me smile until I realised there must be more video, far worse than the one I was seeing.

'You seemed pretty pissed off. Want to tell me about it.'

'Not really, no. Let's just say that I had a road to Damascus moment. I saw him for what he really is, I saw myself for what I was, and I really didn't like what I saw. He thought I should just accept it and carry on. He doesn't take no for an answer. Well, guess what, he does now.

'How did you get hold of that video?'

'Portia is divorcing him. She sent me everything she had. That's the only thing I looked at.'

'Don't look at them, Harry; don't torture yourself. You don't need them. I won't fight the divorce, whatever the terms.'

'I've already deleted them. I just thought you'd enjoy that one.'

'I'd rather not see it. It represents something that I'm deeply ashamed of. I can see why you find it funny, but I'd rather not look at it. I hope I never see him again.'

'Then why? Why do what you did for as long as you did?

'I can't really tell you, because I don't know myself. The first time was my ego being massaged by being desired by a very attractive younger man. Add a bit of alcohol to the mix and I suppose I was easy meat for him. It hurts me to say it, but I know now that was all it was for him.

'After the first time I was sure I'd never do it again, but he was nothing if not persistent. I gave way, and if I'm honest it was exciting doing things I wasn't supposed to do. That's probably why we went to places I'd been with you. There was always a chance that we would run into someone who would recognise me; it heightened the excitement.

'God, I sound like such a selfish bitch. I suppose I am. I convinced myself that you weren't losing anything by it. Yes, I know it's a cliché, and I know it wasn't true.'

'Sometimes I felt as if there were three people in our bed at night. Were there times when you made love to me while you were thinking of him?'

I looked down at the coarse sand beneath my feet and nodded.

'I'm sorry, Harry, but yes. It was the excitement thing again. He's not a better lover than you. If you take away the excitement of forbidden fruit, he was probably a lot worse, very selfish.'

'Did you ever think of me while you were in bed with him?'

'Only that last night. I finally saw him for what he is and myself for what I am. That was when I longed to be in your arms. I've been longing for that ever since.'

'Well, you've given me a lot to think about. Thank you for being honest. I thought that I knew what I was going to do. I was going to stay down here and start divorce proceedings. You make enough to pay the mortgage on Redhill, and I can rent Beach House from Mum.'

I gasped and he looked down at me. It took all my willpower not to start pleading with him but this had to be his decision.

'That's what I was going to do, but you've forced me to rethink. When I got sick I expected you to take the kids back to Redhill, but you stayed. I thought you'd given up on me, but when I was at the point of giving up you gave me the kick in the arse that I needed. You made me angry enough to want to come back and tell you what I thought of you. I don't know if that's what made the difference, but my nurse told me that I started to improve the night I got your message.

'Even when I was discharged, you could have gone home, but you stayed to help me. I don't know if it was love or guilt that made you stay.'

I tried to interrupt but he put his hand up to stop me

'Now I don't need you, anymore, so why are you still here? Why are you waiting for me to send you away?'

'Because I love you. I know what you are thinking: how could she love me and hurt me the way she did? I never intended to hurt you, I never thought you'd find out. I know that doesn't make it right, and if I could undo it, I would without a moment's hesitation. Harry, please believe me I never stopped loving you.'

'Ah, now there is the problem: can I ever believe you again?

I'd played out this conversation hundreds of time in my head, and this question was always the stumbling block. I knew there was no argument I could use to convince him.

'That's the rub, isn't it? I can promise never to lie to you again, but how do you know whether to believe me? I can only ask you to have faith in me. I will do everything I can to win your trust, but I can't make you trust me.'

We were walking close to the water and as we approached another groyne, a large wave broke on the sand. The water surged up the beach and I stumbled as I tried to avoid getting wet feet. I started to fall and found myself held in a pair of arms. Harry had caught me as I fell and now he was looking into my eyes, his face just inches from mine. I longed for him to kiss me and for a moment I thought it might happen, but then he pulled me upright again.

'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, just got a wet foot, that's all.'

'Let's walk back.'

We turned around and started walking back towards the house. Nothing was said for a while, but I could see he was deep in thought. As we approached the house, he stopped walking.

'I'm not coming back to Redhill. I grew up down here and I love it, I love the house, I'm not leaving.'

'Then we'll move down here. We can get the children into the local school and we can all live here. If we sell Redhill, maybe we could buy this place from your mum.'