And what did you expect, running off to a young girlfriend? That your wife would simply wait for you? the neighbours voice echoed across the landing, somehow both sharp and dreamlike.
…Standing before the faded blue door to his old flat, Leonard hesitated, as if the brass doorbell was some strange relic from another existence. All year hed spent with another woman, yet the scent of the flat his true home refused to leave his memory, the warmth of family years a persistent fog he couldnt walk out of.
At last, he drew a deep breath and pressed his finger to the little silver bell. The tune that rang through the door sounded warped, distant as though underwater. Leonards heart beat with such ferocity it might leap straight from his throat. How odd, he thought, breathless, as if hed just sprinted the length of Westminster Bridge.
A year ago, his departure had been hurried almost furtive. Hed intended just a scribbled note Sorry, Ive fallen in love with someone else. Im leaving. but Natalie, his wife, had come home from work far earlier than usual, catching him clumsily packing his things.
He stammered, half-sentences tumbling into the thick silence. Natalies eyes, filled with an unreadable mixture of pain and disbelief, followed his every move. She hadnt uttered a single word.
In a rush of shame, Leonard scarpered, the zip of his holdall tearing off in his hand. Money was left neatly on the kitchen table enough for Natalie and the girls, at least for a little while.
Leonard and Natalie had married fifteen years earlier. Was it love? Surely, it must have been. Everything had seemed smooth, dreamy, perfectly ordinary and happy. His Nan had left him the flat, so the newlyweds moved right in. In a handful of years they had a daughter.
Leonards job at a major London firm was respectable, while Natalie was devoted to raising their child and keeping the place in order, studying by correspondence in her spare hours.
After earning a qualification as a speech therapist in addition to a nursery nurse diploma she secured a post at the school their daughter attended. A few years passed, and their second child, another girl, came along.
Everyone who knew Leonard and Natalie considered them the ideal family. Perhaps in the logic of dream, they were. Hushed voices, no rows, no major disagreements. Natalie was meticulous, a wonderful cook, keeping everything tidy, helping the girls, and Leonard well, she gave him all the attention he could want. Yet somehow, Leonard grew restless.
Two years ago, into his life glided Linda. Her real name was Elizabeth, but she insisted on Linda. She joined Leonards team at work and instantly became the object of speculation and curiosity among the men.
Leonard hadnt paid her much heed at first. But during a mysteriously soft-lit office outing to the countryside, theyd sat together on the coach. Theyd talked. And suddenly the world tipped.
Linda wasnt content with being a mistress. One day shed drawn a line: one or the other. Divorce hadnt entered Leonards dreams, but her insistence pricked something in him; he almost relished the drama. He moved in with her.
The divorce was surreal: Natalie skipped the court, just sent in a piece of paper. No quarrels, the girls stayed with Natalie by default. Leonard was a free man again.
He was, after all, an upright man. He didnt evict Natalie or the children, and he sent child support to Natalies account, precisely on the dot.
But as for seeing the girls it was not that he didnt want to he missed them terribly. It was just what could he say, what possible excuse could bridge all that had washed away?
The first six months with Linda were breathless, suffused with strange light. They lived for each other, spent evenings in cafés, went to parties with her friends, weekends at her parents place in Surrey. Linda, his darling, began feverishly planning their wedding.
One afternoon, rooting through the bathroom bin, Leonard found a used pregnancy test with two vivid lines.
A child? They would have a child? The thought struck him both joyous and bracing he simply couldnt picture Linda as a mother.
Are you planning a surprise for me? he asked with a trembling laugh that same night.
Surprise? she replied, eyes dancing in the low light. What sort of surprise does my darling want? I’ll do anything for you anything, no matter how shameless! Her hand trailed lightly down his chest.
Im not talking about that. In the bathroom I know about the baby, Linda, he said, pulling her close.
She slipped from his arms. Oh, that. Dont worry. Ive sorted it already.
Sorted? What do you mean?
Oh, dont be childish! Her tone was sharp as a distant bell. Nows not the time for a baby weve a wedding to plan! Im not turning up at the registry office in a maternity dress, thank you very much and the honeymoons already booked. Imagine dealing with morning sickness in Greece? No, thank you…
So you…
Yes, exactly. Theres no baby now, Linda retorted, eyes flat as glass.
Leonard said nothing, the silence thickening. He couldnt believe shed act without him.
From that vivid day, a crack appeared in their world. Leonard looked at Linda anew and saw someone cold, calculating, someone who would step over him, perhaps anyone. And already, his thoughts drifted to the child lost, then strangely to Natalie. Life had been simple with her. No wedding dress, no long honeymoon, yet somehow it had all felt right.
The wedding approached, but Leonard no longer cared. One evening, steady at last, he packed his things in the same battered holdall hed once carried from his old flat. Lindas shrieks seemed far away, filtered and distant, as he left.
The bells trill repeated, hollow and distorted. The flat was silent. Leonard fished out the keys untouched for a year, always in his wallet. The lock clicked softly. He entered the hallway, flicked on the light in a movement muscle-deep.
The rooms were empty, echoing. He searched from one to the next no one. It looked like no one lived here for some time. Where was Natalie? Where were the girls? Panic throbbed in his chest as he peered into wardrobe after wardrobe, all empty.
He stumbled out onto the landing, knocked at the flat opposite. Shuffles. A voice behind the door.
Whos there? The unmistakable tone of Mrs Val Blackwell, a lifelong neighbour and friend of Leonards gran.
Its me, Leonard, he replied, heart a wild animal.
The door swung open. Mrs Blackwell, hands drying on her apron, inhaled sharply.
Good heavens! Lenny! Is it really you? Back at last?
Yes, Mrs Blackwell. Ive come back. Dyou know where my family is?
No sense standing on the threshold, lad. Come on in. She led him into her small, steamy kitchen. He followed, defeated.
Sitting at her old pine table, Leonard watched his neighbours shrewd eyes.
So, what did you expect? Off with a young thing, did you think your wife would wait, keeping the hearth warm for you? Mrs Blackwell perched across from him.
No, Leonard, your Natalie left with the girls. She got herself a job up in a village in Yorkshire moved the lot of em not long after you scarpered. I watch your flat, Natalie sends money for the bills every month, just as reliable as you like. Dont worry, its sorted.
She paused. If it were me, Id have given you a right telling off What werent you getting at home, then? Left your babies, dropped your wife for some oh, never mind! And now you’re back, so I suppose it didnt work out with your young lady, eh?
No, Mrs Blackwell, it didnt, Leonard said, voice a dull thud. He rose to go.
Where do you think youre going? Sit down! Your gran would turn in her grave, Leonard!
Leonard sank back in his chair.
Ill give you Natalies address and her new number, Mrs Blackwell resumed, voice gentler. But you need to know shes had a baby. A boy.
Leonard jerked up.
What? A baby?
Thats what I said, you daft bugger. Natalie was pregnant when you left. She only found out as you were packing up. Never said a word to you.
And I wouldnt have, myself you made your bed, as they say. Still, shes struggling. Not much pay, got to fork out for childcare, doing her best
And the money you send for the girls, she leaves untouched, only ever pays me the rent. So there you go, Leonard. Think on.
Leonard buried his head in his hands. Silence filled the tiny kitchen. Mrs Blackwell left him be. After a long while he rose, voice raw: Thank you, Mrs Blackwell. He shuffled out.
He wandered back to the echo of the flat that once was home, to the bedroom hed shared with Natalie. Out the window, the sleepless city glittered with a thousand watchful eyes, each one staring with silent reproach.
Later, as sleep crept over him, Leonards thoughts blurred and twisted: If only she could forgive me If only she could
Do you think shed forgive him? What would you do? Leave your thoughts below, and if this strange tale has struck your heart, dont forget to follow the page.
