1. The Last Straw

Sally stepped out of a car full of giggling ladies.

"I'll see you all tomorrow!" she shouted as she waved goodbye to the moving car. She and the girls all went to the movies to watch a musical. It was the most fun Sally had in weeks. She was still singing the catchy finale song as she walked down the drive towards her house. As she reached the front door the carefree bliss slowly left her. No doubt Michael also had fun that night. And he'll want more fun when she got back. Sally knew that inside Michael was a good man; the man she married and signed her freedom off to, but his drink got in the way.

Sally sighed and opened the door. At once, she knew that something bad happened by the lack of a slurred greeting, and a quiet whimpering coming from the living room. She raced across the hall, her heels clattering on the marble floor. She gasped in horror. Michael lied on his back, passed out on the floor, but Sally simply stepped over him to the small bleeding heap on the floor behind an armchair. Tears washed across her face as she looked at another, this one crumpled with pain, with blood spread across her childish features.

"Amy, I'm so sorry," Sally cried as she picked up the girl carefully.

“Get up you fat shit!” she screamed in hysteria, kicking Michael violently. Her motherly nature already made her feel awful about swearing in front of Amy. Michael moaned in response, but Sally was already rummaging through the drawers for her Cadillac keys, with Amy on her hip, crying quietly. She didn’t want an ambulance. She didn’t know the damage and didn’t want to cause a scene either. She swiftly closed the door behind her and rushed to the car. She placed Amy in the seat next to her and drove.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her face to clear her vision. “I’m so sorry”

Sally tried to collect herself together and look civil for the few bored people in the waiting room. She blinked her eyes numerous times to stop tears from falling. She neatly placed her hands on her knees to stop her legs from twitching. She fought a personal battle to keep her nails bite-free. She smoothed her long skirt, re-arranged her hair, and refused to nervously fiddle with her gloves. However, Sally was a mess all the same.

She wanted to see her little girl, to comfort her and to feel Amy wrap her tiny arms around her neck knowing everything will be alright, now that mummy’s here. Sally just wanted to keep her safe. But most of all Sally wanted to kill that sore excuse of a husband. This would be the last time she let him break her trust. And he can forget about any of his alcohol. She’s going to pour it down the drain first thing tomorrow. Well, maybe she’ll keep a bottle or two for guests, but that is going to be under lock and key. He will never lay a hand on Amy again. He will regret the day he first put his glass to his lips. Sally was shaking violently now, without even realising.

“Scuse me ma’am. Are you alright?”

Sally looked up, startled. A tall man stood above her, holding his hands together awkwardly.

“Only, you looked like you might need some company, cos you were shaking an’ all.” The man explained. Sally looked at him with bewildered eyes.

“I...I was?” she stuttered. The gentleman smiled, took a step forward and sat down on a chair beside her.

“Yes. I’m Jack Cranford.” He smiled, holding out his hand. Sally examined him. Neat, blond hair, dark blue suit. Big sun-tanned hands and deep blue eyes asking her to trust him. Not forcefully like everyone else. Everyone else expected her to trust them. The man asked quietly. As if he was pleading to be acquainted. But why? This whole situation seems a little out of context. Sally was entangled in his glance, wide-eyed, and embarrassingly-so unable to look away.

“I’m Sally White” she said, reluctantly shaking his hand, and finally peeling her eyes off him. She had to get a grip on herself. What did he want anyway? “What’s your angle mister?”

The man opened his mouth, offended, then closed it and shook his head smiling.

“How often do you accept a helping hand?”

Sally frowned. The guy got her. Sally was as independent as a housewife could be. But she always considered it a plus.

“I don’t really need helping hands much” Sally answered raising her chin. This wasn’t what she wanted to talk about at all. She didn’t mean to be rude or anything, but she’d rather the man just went away. “Helping hands are nosy.” She added.

Jack seemed to find that funny. He smirked to himself.

“Only when someone has something to hide.” he said. Sally was furious-this wasn’t how she expected to be treated. She didn’t want his help, or his company. She didn’t want him at all! And as for his creepy comments: she was married! Couldn’t he see the ring on her finger? Sally froze for a moment. She wished he couldn’t. She actually truly wished she wasn’t married. For all the crap Michael gave her, she always thought of everything from the positive side, that things will get better. That she, Michael and Amy would just be a happy family. Now she could see things how they really were. Hopeless. She clenched her face with her hands, bent her head towards her knees, and wept.

“Oh... I... I’m sorry.” Jack whimpered in the background. “I ...Didn’t mean to...”

Sally didn’t reply. Jack slowly placed his hand on her bent back and patted her a couple of times. And to her surprise Sally turned to him and put her head on his shoulder, her hands still covering her upset face. He wrapped his arms around her supportively and rocked her gently from side to side. When she cried so loud it was audible, he stroked her head slowly until she calmed down. “It will be ok.” he whispered. I’ll be just fine”

2. Awkward Moments

Church was the last place Sally or Michael wanted to go to the following morning, but Sally felt the need to go all the same. No doubt people will ask about the stitches on Amy’s face, but Amy will have to go to school tomorrow anyway. Sally wouldn’t want people to think she was un-Christian or that she let her daughter skip Sunday school. Michael had a hangover, but didn’t dare contradict Sally. After all, “Hurry up, we’ll be late for church” was all she said to him.

Michael didn’t have enough courage to speak to her about the previous night. From what he remembered things weren’t looking too good for him, but he had to set the record straight. He couldn’t hurt Amy, he just couldn’t. There had to be an explanation for all this. He would remember hurting his own child. He had to ask Amy what happened. But Sally wouldn’t let her out of her sight, and asking that in front of Sally seemed like an invitation for a fight. Either way, what rights did a stupid drunk have to an innocent child? He couldn’t expect Sally to be fine with this. But he will show Sally what a good guy he can be. He will make her love him again. He could do it.

After the sermon finished Sally walked off to pick up Amy from her Sunday school, and Michael walked straight to Doug. He enjoyed weekly discussions with Doug after a tedious church service. Doug was a chatty man, and one that as well as expressing his opinion sought everyone else’s.

“Hey, Michael! How ya doin’?”He asked slapping him on the back warm-heartedly.

“Not the best I’ve ever been.” Michael answered.

“I can see that!” Doug laughed.

“Oh, thanks Doug. Really.” Michael said sarcastically.”How’s your wife?”

Doug smiled.

“I’m great, thanks for asking. She’s beautiful as always. We’re goin’ to her mother’s on Friday. Boy, that’ll be hell for sure. I just don’t see how those two women can be related. I mean, Arlene is stingy at times - she’s a woman - but her mother... she’s from a completely different species. Right?” he smiled at Michael nudging him with an elbow.

“Well, mothers in law will be mothers in law.” Michael said.

Doug laughed.

“The man speaks the truth! Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to introduce you to a new pal of mine.” He said taking Michael by the shoulder and leading him through the crowded church. “Great sport, ex-army, unemployed at the moment, but I tell ya, his CV looks great. He just moved here, so I expect he’ll want to settle down before looking for a job.” Doug sounded as if he was trying to advertise the man.

“Aha! There he is! Jack! Jack!” Doug waved his arms excessively until he caught the man’s attention. The man didn’t look like a typical army bloke; too light footed and not merely muscular enough. However, his energetic hands showed experience and skill, and his posture showed the features of a man not afraid to fight for his country.

”Jack Cranford. Nice to meet you.” Jack shook Michael’s hand.

“Michael White.” He replied.

“Oh look and there’s Mrs. White” Doug pointed across the room. The two men followed his finger and rested their eyes on Sally, who was nodding along to Mrs. Moor’s constant flow of words. The men were all focused on Sally, and therefore neither of them saw Jack’s face fall drastically. Beside Sally, Amy was opening and closing her mum’s handbag contently.

“Is that your child?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, that’s Amy”

“She’s beautiful” Jack stated, still looking at the women ahead of him.

“She takes after her mother” Michael laughed.

“And don’t we know it!” Dough jumped into the conversation.

“Is that an attempt at an insult?”Jack asked, laughing along with the other men as if nothing had happened.

“No, I was simply stating that both Amy and Sally are both very attractive women. Wouldn’t you agree Mr. Cranford?” Doug explained with a smirk on his face. The two men wouldn’t notice Jack going ever so slightly red in the face.

“I...erm..” He started. Michael interrupted him.

“Doug, I ought to kill you for that, you paedophile. And calling my wife attractive! Only I get to do that.” Michael raised his voice, but still not managed to hide the smile on his face.

“ Have you got kids Jack?”

“I’m not married” Jack answered.

“An eligible bachelor!” Doug exclaimed. “How fitting! My sister, just passed 19, would make a lovely bride. You’ll love her, you really will!”

“Erm... Thanks, but I’m not looking for any bride at the moment.” Jack said feeling even more uncomfortable.

“Oh, Come on! Live a little!” Doug said. Just then a tall, slim woman emerged from the crowds, dressed in a tight suit, and fitting pin skirt. A wide brimmed hat covered her deep brown hair which seemed to be flowing out of the hat. He face was flawless, but what caught the attention of any man (and most women) was the sway of her hourglass figure as she walked in her heels. She walked up to Doug and kissed him on the cheek.

“Come on honey, let’s go home.” She said in a sticky-sweet voice.

“All right dear. See ya on Wednesday chaps” Doug said as the pair walked off.

“How did Doug get a girl like that?” Jack asked with amusement.

“It’s that big mouth of his. He’ll talk his way out of hell if he has to.”Michael said slightly agitated. “Believe it or not, me and Arlene used to be sweethearts back when we were teenagers”

“Really? What happened?” Jack asked.

“She dumped me” Michael laughed. “We were young, and so picky. I couldn’t stand the way she’d flirt with other guys, and she couldn’t stand the fact that I wasn’t appealing to other girls. The fact that no one was jealous of her frustrated her greatly. And Doug,.. Well, Doug’s a pervert.”

“I can believe THAT” Jack laughed.

“Yeah and here’s a tip for ya. Stay clear of Doug’s sister. She’s a weird one”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jack answered. He spotted Sally walking up to them and tried to prepare himself for the meeting.

“We’re going home” Sally informed Michael, looking quickly at him, then Jack, and then at the floor.

“Ok dear. This is Jack Cranford. I was just going to invite him for dinner” Michael said.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Cranford.” Sally stuck her hand out to Jack.

“Erm... nice to meet you too Mrs. White” Jack shook her hand, and this time he was the reluctant one.

“Unfortunately I’ve already invited Mrs. Moor for dinner.” Sally announced.

“There’s always room for one more. The more the merrier” Michael said. He hated the thought of wasting a nice Sunday afternoon listening to Mrs. Moor go on about her fine china, and her swell new curtains.

“If you insist dear” Sally sighed. “We’ll see you at six Mr. Cranford. Our address is 16 Milton Avenue. I’m sure you’ll find you way there.”

“I’m sure.” Jack echoed.

“Goodbye then” Sally took Michael by the arm and stared walking off.

“Bye Jack.” Michel waved to the man.

“Goodbye “Jack managed to say before they got too far. He watched them push through the crowds. He scratched his head, unsure what to make of the situation. Why did Sally seem to hate him all of a sudden? He knew she could be spiteful, but he would never consider her a cold kind of person. Two things were certain. One: Sally took what happened last night as more than an act of friendship. Two: Jack loved Sally. He saw her in the crowds, still clutching her husband like a handbag. How he wished that could be him! She turned and looked at Jack. Their eyes met, and Jack couldn’t bare to look away- frozen on the spot. Sally’s eyes were a whirlpool of despair. She parted he lips and slowly mouthed something to him. He couldn’t make out what she was trying to say. He couldn’t look away from those eyes. Slowly, she closed her eyes, and turned away. Three things were certain. One: Sally took what happened last night as more than an act of friendship. Two: Jack was in love with Sally. Three: Sally might have just been in love with Jack too.

3. Dinner For Four

Sally looked at the clock. 5 more minutes until he arrives. 5 minutes to lose herself in thought. She put her whole heart to cleaning and cooking and looking after Amy that afternoon that she didn't have time to think about her feelings properly. She was dressed in a new creamy dress that was light and ruffled just as she liked them. Her skirt spread out all around her, and it did make her feel just a little bitbeautiful. She had done her honey-brown hair up in a large bun at the side of her head, just by her left ear. She put her pearls on and even put a little lipstick on. She knew Michael wouldn't notice her efforts, but maybe, just maybe Jack would notice.

The truth was- Jack was all she thought about since the day she met him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was about Jack that made her soppy like a schoolgirl. The best solution she came up with was that he seemed to care about her. That’s all it took. She didn’t know if he would have her though, with her extensive luggage that included a husband and a child. She still wasn’t sure if she’d have Him! She had to do the right thing for Amy. And that is to keep her family. Stick together. Sally froze on the spot, looking out of her kitchen window. NO. Fuck Michael. Fuck everything. What has he done to deserve her or Amy? After all, what’s more important? Michael and the façade of her supposedly comfortable life, or Jack: the glimmer of a faint flame of hope? The question sent tingles down the back of her spine. She didn’t know the answer to that question. Her whole stability was hanging on a few loose strings at the moment; Michael worse than ever, and Jack whom she’d barely known for a couple of days. Just then the doorbell rang.

“ I’ll get it!” She shouted just about managing to sound calm. Hysteria rushed over her. Her hands were shaking as she walked through the kitchen. She clenched them and told herself not to be stupid. This was just a dinner party. She put on her nicest smile as she walked over to the door, trying not to think of anything. She opened the door and as soon as she saw the manly jacket that couldn’t possibly belong to Mrs. Moor she stared at the ground.

“Hello.” Came a quiet greeting. Sally could feel herself blushing nervously, yet at the same time, felt much more at peace with herself than she had all day.

“Hello.” She eventually answered even quieter, smiling politely at the floor. Jack held out a bouquet of flowers.

“For the lady of the house” he said in a grave voice. Sally plucked up the courage to finally look up, and she looked straight into his eyes.

“Thank You.” He passed her the flowers, and as she held her hands out to accept them their hands met. Jack quickly drew his hand away, but Sally found herself sub-consciously reaching for Jack’s hand and placing it on her cheek. As she realised what she was doing she quickly let go of Jack’s hand and looked up at Jack, bewildered. To her surprise and relief he didn’t take his hand off, but stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. Sally closed her eyes to savour the moment.

She no longer had any doubt about the direction she was going in. Jack was the answer to her prayers. All those years she thought it was Michael, sober Michael, but he wasn’t. He probably never was. She opened her eyes slowly, only to close them again to feel Jack’s kisses on her neck.

Eventually their mouths met, melting smoothly and slowly, and she couldn’t help comparing this kiss to her first kiss with Michael. They were out at a fair, and Michael was angry at something. She remembered holding his face, and trying to take away the anger, but she couldn’t remember what he was angry about. When she was unable to calm him down, she kissed him. At first, he drew away, but Sally just kissed him harder. Sally squeezed her eyes, snapping back to the present. She shouldn’t have. She should have left him alone to sulk. She cursed herself for thinking about Michael in this beautiful moment. However, when Jack opened his mouth and she felt his tongue in her mouth all thoughts of Michael faded away for a few paralysing seconds. She couldn’t afford more than a few seconds though. Not when Michael was upstairs.

She pulled away and stroked the lapels of Jack’s jacket. When Jack opened his eyes Sally wiped the lipstick off his mouth with a handkerchief she drew out of his breast pocket. She folded it neatly and put it back in his pocket, then led him inside the house. As soon as they both stood in the hall Sally felt her temperature rise. Michael was upstairs getting ready.

“Michael” She called out in a croaky and shaky voice. She coughed and cleared out her throat then tried again, putting on a fake smile while she was at it. “Michael! Jack’s here! Come down!” After a few seconds, Michael came down the stairs, smiling and looking considerably better than he had that morning.

“Ah! Jack! Good to see you!” He said as he reached the bottom of the stairs and shook Jack’s hand.

“Good to see you too” Jack answered. Sally carefully studied Michael. She didn’t let her guard down, but she thought she got away with it. All the same, the shock of what she just did was only now fully revealing itself. She had to get away from them.

“Excuse me gentlemen, but I must get a drink of water” She said quietly, looking at their shoes.

“Are you alright dear?” Michael asked. Sally smiled as convincingly as she could.

“Just thirsty”

While Sally was getting a drink Mrs. Moor appeared in the doorway. Sally was more relieved than happy to see her. When she heard her ring the doorbell, she let Michael answer it, as he was in the hallway. She completely forgot about the flowers she was still holding in her hand. She quickly pulled out a vase and poured water into it with an expert’s hand, so that it didn’t splash her dress at all. She then arranged the flowers, and placed them at the dining room table. Yellow chrysanthemums. Sally’s heart fluttered. Did Jack pick them by random or did he really know what they meant? She secretly knew it was the latter. Secret admirer. She breathed out, straightened her skirt out and went to greet Mrs. Moor.

“Hello Mrs. Moor! It’s good to see you” she smiled as she turned her cheek to accept a kiss from the old lady. “You’ve met Mr. Jack Cranford?

“It’s good to see you too dearest. Yes, Yes, Your dear husband told me all about him. No doubt he’ll have no trouble with the ladies, will you Mr. Jack?” Mrs. Moor winked at Jack as she let Sally put her big fur coat in the closet, revealing Mrs. Moor’s dashing, sparkling black dress. Mrs. Moor was a woman who certainly didn’t dress like a 70 year old. “I’ll tell you what though! These curtains... you really must get those French ones from Tiffany’s. So shiny, and elegant, and not at all see through from the outside.”

“Alright Ma’am. Shall we come through for drinks?” Sally suggested, interrupting Mrs. Moor.

“Sounds like a fine idea. Call me Dorothy, I tell you so many times” Mrs. Moor said, stepping through the hall and then the sitting room as if it was her second home. The old lady stepped with a dance-like grace in her soft sparkly slippers that glittered just like her dress. Once they entered the spacious living room, she settled herself against the fireplace, which was lit with a small fire sparkling at her feet. She pulled out a cigarette holder, complete with a cigarette and lighter, from an unknown place. Sally busied herself pouring the drinks. Jack, smiled shyly at Mrs. Moor, and seeing her approving gaze propped up the courage to converse with her.

“Did you enjoy the service this morning Mrs.Moor? I saw you in St. John’s.”

“Dear boy...it took me all my strength to just keep my eyes open. Bless your little soul” She took a drag of her cigarette and weaved her hand through the smoke as she spoke. “Unfortunately, dear boy, I am one of those old codgers that the Lord’s voice just can’t reach no more. While I am most familiar with his Amazing Grace and Mighty Fortress, I am not in the slightest bit familiar nor interested in what the Good Lord has to say to Reverend Dane. Now, back in my day we had a certain Reverend Stone. He sure knew how to show us ladies a good time.” She let out a low cackle. “Preached like a saint though. When he spoke it was truly a heavenly sound.”

By now Sally had poured out drinks. Mrs. Moor was already taking a big swig of the white wine, when Jack stopped her.

“Wait! Shouldn’t we toast?” Mrs. Moor looked at the boy with a queer expression.

“Alright. What shall we toast to?” At this Jack thought for a moment. He was just about to mumble Sally White’s name when Mrs. Moor frowned and said,

“Why Michael, where’s your drink?”

Michael looked meaningfully into Sally’s eyes. Her whole body tensed, anticipating the moment he might look away. She looked up at him, focusing on maintaining a neutral expression.

“I decided to quit it for a while. Not good for me, really.” He tried out a smile on Sally. Any other day, when she might have not cheated on her husband, she might have looked at him unimpressed. But today... today Sally did cheat on her husband, so the best she could do was pull up the corners of her mouth into a not even half-hearted, smile.

“All the more for us” Mrs. Moor shrugged. “To a lovely evening!”

“A lovely evening!” the others replied, raising their glasses.

The dinner went smoothly, as it always did when Sally was cooking. Hot duck that melted in your mouth, creamy potatoes, vegetable full of flavour, and gravy to die for, made their way into the guests’ stomachs. Simple, yet perfected to the last pea to achieve a contempt feeling of blissful homey cooking.

Sally smiled down the table, looking at the guests. Mrs. Moor, who “in all her years of life never tasted such good potatoes” talked contently among the men, telling them of her younger years, the depression, and how she met Franklin D. Roosevelt. Michael, who nodded, “ooh-ed and “ahh-ed” in time with Mrs. Moor’s story, ate his food as he always did, with a nasty habit of letting his cheeks flab around in all directions as he chewed. Jack, amazed by the texture of the duck, was helping himself to some more. He looked so much younger when eating. Eager eyes, which followed his fork. A silently smiling, full mouth. Energetic hands that scooped, cut, and plunged into the duck with the cutlery. Jack was a pleasure to watch eating.

Sally listened to the conversation, but didn’t register any information. She was too busy looking. She took her eyes off Jack. Michael could notice. She looked around the warm room.

The dining room was Sally’s favourite place. Smiles were always guaranteed here. The golden chandelier and yellowy wallpaper reflected her mood. Perhaps the most beautiful object in the room was the table. Covered by a crystal white cloth, its age remained a mystery to the guests. Even to Sally. She only knew that this table was the only table she ate at throughout her life. When Sally married Michael it was handed down to her. It was her private pride and joy. A mirror ran the length of the room, reflecting the good atmosphere.

Sally’s eyes found the chrysanthemums once more. Joy ran through her veins. Jack, Jack, Jack. She noticed each petal, every shade of gold. A square flash of white disturbed the pattern. A note? It took all of Sally’s strength to withhold herself, and not let curiosity get the better of her. She glanced around the room. Mrs Moor kept the men in a heated discussion- from what Sally could tell- about sofas. Had she been paying attention, it would probably have made her laugh. Mrs. Moor’s love for interiors amused even the grumpiest of people. None of them noticed the note. Sally sighed and let herself slip into a cosy, safe cocoon of housekeeping and hosting.

3. A Note

Sally sighed, a tiered, pleased sigh. She enjoyed the sleepy feeling of fulfilment, the knowledge that people had a good time, thanks to her. Her eyes swiftly followed Michael, to keep track of his every move: to make sure he didn’t step too close to the flowers. She patiently waited for him to retire upstairs; she hoped he would as soon as the guests left. Michael however seemed inclined to hang around her like an annoying fly. He mumbled something a couple of times, in the hope of starting a conversation. Sally cleared the table and proceeded to wash the dishes whilst waiting for Michael to say something worthy of credit. As she came into the dining room to take off the used table cloth and replace it with another she just couldn’t bare his piercing eye on her every move anymore. She looked up at him, challenging him; her hands naturally hoisting themselves into fists at her waist. He cowered away, and awkwardly bumped against the mantel piece.

”Typical” Sally sighed as she walked over to straighten the dainty little ornaments that tumbled over from the bump. Michael caught her hand just as she was about to reach for a little gold covered bell in the shape of a maiden that was lying on it’s side.

“I meant what I said” said Michael looking directly into her eyes. Sally fought the urge to look away and shivered with fear. What if he found out? Surely Michael was no wife beater? But he had beaten up his own innocent child; why should he spare a sinful woman like her? She pursed her lips and winced away from him.

“ I MEANT what I said” Michael repeated. He let go of Sally’s hand which sub consciously straightened the little maiden back into it’s original place. He put his hands by his sides, awkwardly, as if he was trying to restrain himself. Sally noticed his hands shaking and felt a pang of guilt rise up from her chest. He had a problem. He was trying to resolve it. She, as a supportive, loving wife should be there for him. Help him. Instead, Sally’s heart was flying away to Jack. And it wasn’t planning on returning any time soon. Sally forced herself to think of Amy, and the guilt subdued.

“Too little, too late” Sally whispered as Michael exited the dining room.

Along with Michael left any concern, affection, guilt or any other emotion Sally felt for him.

She rushed over to the bouquet of flowers. She reached her hand in and pulled out the note.

A nice piece of white card with her name scratched in straight, small letters. She ran her hand along it, to make sure it was real, and then opened it. The whole of the inside was filled to the brim with the same neat handwriting. She read it again and again to herself.

To the dear Sally White,

I feel that, had we met in different circumstances, in a different time, our lives would look a whole lot different. I think that when I met you I was given the privilege of seeing a vulnerable side of you that I understand not many other people have. You have touched my heart with your grief. I want to help you, in any way I can, but even more so, I want to lead a life as close to you as I can, as close as you will let me. If that isn’t what you want, I understand fully, and only hope that you might forgive a lovesick fool for putting his heart on the line so bashfully. I already feel like a coward for writing this, not speaking it. If only we could meet, alone. We could get to know each other properly, act as if we were on a real, honest date. If you wish to do that, meet me in The Raymond Hotel tomorrow at 10. Maybe we can make sense of this.

Yours,

Jack Cranford

Sally took the note and, cradling it to her, went to the kitchen and put it in her secret compartment under the sink. There was a little ledge under which Sally often stuck banknotes so that Michael wouldn’t find it and spend it on alcohol. The note would now stink of dampness and vegetable waste, but it was definitely safe. Sally sighed and supposed that she ought to go to bed. Which one? Last night, after Amy’s accident she slept in the guest bedroom vowing to never share a bed with Michael again. She felt like she should really patch things up with Michael, but at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Perhaps if she slept in Michael’s bed, she’ll feel less guilty when she goes to meet Jack tomorrow. And she would go and meet him- she was sure of it. As much as she tried to persuade herself against it, she knew she’d come since the second she read that note.

Eventually, after taking the longest time possible in the bathroom, Sally stood in the door frame of their bedroom. Michael was in bed, lying on his side, away from her. His clothes were scattered around the room. The whole place looked atrocious ever since she stopped cleaning it. To think it was only 2 days ago! Carefully guiding her feet in the dark, Sally made her way around the bed and slid into the cool sheets on the other side, by the window. She quietly tutted in annoyance when she realised she had to get up and slide the curtains slightly so the morning sun wouldn’t shine in her eyes. She was now absolutely cold. She slid into bed once more, and pulled the covers up to her chin. Underneath them, Michael’s hand sleepily made its way across her and cradled her. Sally turned on her side sharply. That was too far. She wasn’t ready to act like nothing happened yet. As Michael’s hand slid off her body she thought of all the pleasant things she would talk about with Jack. Though he might know her darkest secret, she still had to make a good impression. Her last thoughts of the night were on how she simply had to get her blue dress to the cleaner’s tomorrow.

She was almost asleep when something aroused her. Michael was getting up, and shuffling around the room. She kept her eyes closed, listening. As she heard Michael go down the stairs then shut the door behind him and start up the car, she realised the worst has happened. So much for “I meant what I said”. Michael was down at the bar again, and she made the mistake of believing him- again. Sally fought back the urge to cry, and thought of how tomorrow Jack will treat her like a princess. How he’ll buy her a castle, and tend to her every need. In the summer he would keep her cool with an enormous feather fan, and in the winter he’ll run outside into the wind and snow to chop wood for a fire just for her. It didn’t exactly make her feel better- but she fell asleep at least.

5. Middle Ground

Sally overslept. This unusual occurrence happened because of the surprisingly pleasant night she spent back in her own bed. Once Michael left there was nothing to stop her from spreading out across the whole bed in the shape of a starfish. And the guest bed was really far too squidgy for Sally to ever be comfortable enough. Of course, when she had been sleeping there this was the least of her worries. Sally got up reluctantly. As she felt the sunshine hit her face, the way that she especially tried to avoid, yet was still not overwhelmingly unpleasant, she sensed a change in her mood. There was no more sorrow, and any remains of it were smitten by anger. It felt good to be angry. She would go and see Jack today, and she wouldn’t feel guilty, and Michael will deserve everything that she does with Jack. Only once she realised that Amy was 30 mins late for school did she get up and charge out of her bedroom. Amy was not in her bed, neither was she in the bathroom, or any place upstairs.

“Amy!” Sally shouted as she wrapped her dressing gown around her, heading down the stairs.

“Amy!”

Michael appeared out of the kitchen doorway.

“She’s at school. I took her, I ..er.. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“I don’t want you touching her!” Sally said spitefully, and even though it felt good, she was feeling the guilt of it already. It was quite a harsh comment, Amy was his child too. Michael’ face belittled. He shoved his hands back in his and looked up at Sally who was standing on the stairs as if frozen in time.

“I know you think I went to the bar last night.” He started. Sally didn’t want to hear his excuses. She started heading down the stairs.

“Just hear me out. When you lied there next to me last night, I was happy, and I wanted to thank you. So I went out and...” He broke off in the middle of his sentence.

“And what?”

“I bought you some flowers. There. I know you like ‘em.”

“You went out in the middle of the night and bought me flowers?” Sally crossed her arms.

“Yes, is that so odd?”

Sally didn’t answer, but walked down the stairs and scrutinised Michael. He seemed clean, and he smelt of soap and morning. There were rings around his eyes, but they were much smaller than those after a night out, and they were not red-rimmed.

“Hmm.”

She walked into the kitchen and spotted the dark red roses next to Jack’s chrysanthemums.

“Are those it?” she asked pointing at the bundle.

“Yeah, I was just about to put them in some water.”

Sally nodded as permission for him to proceed. She took a closer look at the roses. They looked pathetic against the glamorous, brilliant and fresh chrysanthemums. And it made her heart cram. Yes, they were starting to look dead, with their limp and withering petals, but what could she expect, he went and got them in the middle of the night. The flowers of course had a completely bashful and nonsensical meaning of mourning, but he did his best. Michael returned with a vase full of water. “Didn’t they come with any plant food?”

“Plant food?” Michael froze in his tracks.

“Yeah, they normally have a little packet on the side...” Sally searched around the brown paper in which the flowers were wrapped in.

“Erm.. I might have not exactly bought them...” Michael stood awkwardly with an undeniable smirk on his face.

Sally scrutinised the flowers again. They had a certain resemblance of the red roses in Mrs. Freeman’s garden across the road.

“Michael!” she exclaimed, trying to hide her smirk. He took two strides towards her.

“Sally, I love you. I just had to show you that somehow.” He held her by the elbow, pulling her in for a kiss. Sally resisted. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. But Michael was her husband. Nothing odd about sharing a kiss with her husband. She leant in, and felt his shaking lips against hers. She noticed how different they were from Jack’s smooth, melting lips. But she still smiled as she tasted toothpaste and coffee on his tongue- not liquor. She was taken back to her wedding night when just as Michael was slipping off her stockings he paused suddenly and quickly ran out of the room shouting “just brushing my teeth!” with a frothy mouth. Since then she always liked kissing Michael best just as he got into bed at night, or early in the morning. The taste of mint always reminded her of him, and in recent times it was especially hard for her to brush her teeth. Michael pulled her in closer and closer. Sally pulled away.

“You’re late!”

Michael rolled his eyes, but walked off to get his briefcase and car keys.

He came back and gave her a goodbye kiss.

“See you tonight” he said. Sally’s just about kept her smile from falling.

“See you”

As she watched Michael drive off she saw herself through a new light. She couldn’t’ see Jack tonight. It would have been more than simple to come up with a lame excuse as to why she wasn’t going to be at home tonight, but that wasn’t it. Michael was changing. He was coming back to the man she married, the man she fell in love with. She did want to be there when he fully returned. They could be happy. As she made herself some breakfast (simple buttered toast) she thought of Jack. What a poor, sweet man. She couldn’t just let him down like that. He was always so good to her, so willing to put his feelings on the line. He made her feel warm inside. But that ought to be Michael’s place. It will have to be.

She picked up the phone and dialled Richard’s number. She had decided on safe middle ground.

“Hello?”

“Richard? It’s Sally, I’m sorry for calling so early. It’s just that Mr. Cranford- Jack, left his hat here last night, and I was wondering on whether you’ll be a darling and be so kind to give me his address so that I might be able to drop it off when I go to do the shopping.” She said in her kindest voice, the one she knew Richard adored.

“Why certainly. It’s 21 Durham Drive. Say, what would you say about joining us for dinner sometime?”

“It’d be a pleasure.”

“Great! We’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“ Michael will be thrilled.”

21 Durham Drive turned out to be a cosy, clean white house surrounded by plush green bushes and trees. Right by the wide windows grew iris plants, blue and bold. Across the overgrown lawn baby’s breath and blue bells stuck out in drops of white a blue. The pots by the door grew delicate lilies of the valley. As Sally rang the doorbell she felt as if she was being swept into a mysterious new world. She immediately took a liking to the house. After a while the door opened and a busty, wrinkly coloured maid stood in that place, eyeing Sally up and down.

“Hello, I’m Sally White.”

“I know who you are.” She said, and took Sally’s breath away. What else did she know about her?

“Well aren’t you gonna come inside?” the maid said after a couple of seconds. She followed the maid who walked in a certain, pained way that looked like she injured her hip or ankle or something. The majority of the house was a startling clash of white, midnight blue and forest green. It was cool and open. Sally could only dream of maintaining such a household. Sit was small and easy to keep, yet so spacious and airy. The maid lead me through the house, and out into the back yard. It was wide and as far as Sally could see had no end. It was at least three times as big as the house itself with many trees. The garden sloped up into a hill, leaving a good chunk of it mysterious. The maid and I climbed the hill and from there I could make out the breathtaking lawns of luscious grass, trees and flowers.

“Jack! Jack! Someone here to see you” The maid shouted. Then I saw him. He was sitting in the grass reading to a girl resting on his shoulder. My heart broke, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel happy for him, because he’ll have someone when I let him down. The girl was very young, and pretty, with wavy long hair, falling past her waist. She looked so happy. I wondered what he wanted with me. I wanted to leave, to run away. I didn’t belong in this beautiful place with these beautiful people. I belonged in my own make-do prettiness. But Jack already spotted me. He smiled, and jumped up to his feet, quickly walking up the hill to greet me.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise.”

I smiled at the ground bashfully, something I seemed to do a lot when I was around him. I was suddenly very aware of the maid and Jack’s girl still hanging around.

“I need to talk to you” I gathered the courage to look into his eyes.

“I’ll be in the kitchen” the maid said, sighing.

“Don’t mind Val. She’s just not one of those subtle people” Jack didn’t take his eyes off me. It made me all the more un-easy.

“I...I...”I tried to get the words out of my mouth.

“I want you to meet somebody.” Jack interrupted me. “Hey Hazel! This is the lovely lady I’ve been telling you about.” Jack took me by the shoulders, guiding me towards the girl. She ran to meet us.

“Oh hello.” She said shaking my hand. “Jack’s been telling us all about you. I know he don’t like it when I say it, but he does.” She nodded her head as she spoke. “I’m Jack’s sister, Hazel.” She introduced herself, once again giving me her hand to shake. “I’m 16. I’ll be going to St. Mary’s Girls School from next week. I’m so exicited to go. It’ll be my first school since...” she drifted away, a sadness blurring her eyes. Sally felt a surge of relief at the mention of her relationship with Jack, and immediately felt awful for this. Jack wasn’t not hers. She came here to turn him down. At least, that’s what she told herself. The girl looked ahead grimly. Sally felt sorry for her and searched for a way to change the clearly touchy topic.

“St. Mary’s? My daughter goes there” Sally said, to drive forward the conversation. Hazel didn’t need much encouragement in lifting the mood.

“Really? That’s fantastic. How good it’ll be to know someone who goes there. I’ll already have a friend when I got there. It will be so good. IS she my age?

“She’s six.”

“Oh... a little young. Still, I suppose both of us will be new to this whole school thing then.”

“Miss Hazel! Your lemonade!” Val the maid suddenly called from inside the house.

“I’m coming! Well, I’ll see your girl at school won’t I?” Hazel said as she ran back inside the house, waving at Jack and Sally as she went.

“Of course!” Sally shouted behind her. She turned to Jack. “Your maid is very observant.”

The left corner of Jack’s lip lifted into a smirk. Sally admired how naturally, how flawlessly he could do that. You could tell he wasn’t pretending.

“She knows me in and out. Hazel too. She’s been with us since I was born. I know she isn’t always the nicest of people, but once she likes you she’s as sweet as honey. So what did you want to talk to me out?”

Sally sighed. She was just about to explain herself when something caught her eye. That particular cut of leaf...

“Is that a... kadupul plant?”

Jack smiled.

“Is this what you came to see me about?”

“Oh ... no... It’s just flowers are my passion” Sally said kindly, but didn’t even look at Jack.

“They are?” Jack teased suggestively, but Sally didn’t pick up on any sort of subtleties.

“Oh yes, you should see my garden. It’s full to the brim with flowers. Pansies, roses, geraniums: all of them. But I have never seen a flower this exotic before.” Jack took her arm, and gently lead her to a bench nearby.

“Our mother loved plants, and this was her 25th wedding anniversary present. She never did see it bloom. They only bloom at night you know, or in the winter, a dawn”

“I know” Sally said, her voice full of excitement. “To see it bloom would simply be... extraordinary”

“You’re just like my sister.” Jack laughed. “She’s out here almost every night waiting to see it bloom. Only Vals’ hot cocoa coaxes her back inside.”

Sally smiled and remembered when her and Michael used to make hot cocoa together in the winter when Amy was still very small. She remembered having to put it in a baby bottle for her. She had a date to refuse, and if this refusal waited any longer Sally feared it may not come at all.

“Jack...”Sally urged herself to look into his eyes. His deep, blue eyes, eyes she could drown in. “ I... I can’t come tonight. It isn’t fair. I can’t give you what you are looking for. I’m married. You know my marriage is not ideal, but in a moment of weakness I must be strong. I hope you understand, I hope you won’t hate me. Michael is my husband. I MUST love him.”

She folded her arms as an excuse for hugging herself. Jack reached out a hand to hold her but she flinched back. Even being close to him made her heart throb.

“Please! Don’t!” Sally raised her voice. He looked so hurt.

“Sally” he said longingly. He ached to brush his fingers along her cheek as he had once before, but held his hands at his sides. It was time to do the right thing.

“I’m sorry. I should never have sent that card. It was rash, and embarrassing, both for me and for you. I’ve had no idea what you’d think of me, but I imagined it was something unpleasant. Ever since I left your home I’ve been beating myself up about it. I am more than certain it sent out a bad message. You probably thought I wanted to use you. It’s not true. And when you came today, I just forgot about everything.”

Jack wanted to say how happy she made him, how he tossed and turned in bed all night thinking about her reaction to the note. He wanted to say he loved her. But he couldn’t. Not after she decided she wanted to love her husband. He would be the biggest kind of jerk to tell her this after she so clearly made her choice. They sat for a little while in silence.

“Remember me kindly” Sally said quietly. Jack scoffed. How else could her remember her?

“Of course.”

“In which case, we can part as friends, can we not?” Sally asked, daring to put her hand on his.

“Nothing less” Jack said sadly.

In the car Sally adjusted her hat and make up. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes where little tears trickled every now and again. To think she could withstand family breakdown, an alcoholic husband and years of covering up his tracks and yet be reduced to tears by a simple boy with charming eyes. She just had to get a grip on herself and focus all her efforts on being the ideal wife and mother. It was a simple must. She knew she was doing the right thing. So why did it feel like burning a thanksgiving dinner?

6. Bringing Up The Past, Sabotaging Futures

The following Tuesday the promised meet up with Arlene and Richard occurred. The couple were the kind of people who thrived in the nightime, therefore at 8 o’clock sharp Sally and Michael awaited at their door. Sally was wearing her hair down in luscious, well controlled waves. She adorned her white dress with red lipstick and a stomach-quenching belt. She nervously checked her make up in a hand mirror one last time. Arlene’s beauty was certainly something to contend with, though Sally would never admit that she found it somewhat threatening. Michael rang the doorbell. Sally shot him a warning look.

“Don’t embarrass yourself” she said shortly.

“I...” Michael began to argue but the door was open by a maid.

“Mr. And Mrs White. Please come through” she said politely. Sally, glancing behind her noticed Michael’s raging face. She regretted her words- but only just slightly. Deciding to break things off with Jack put her in a terrible mood, an impatient one too, as Michael simply did not live up to Sally’s ideals. All her bitterness and fussing over the slightest wrongdoing on Michael’s part was of course due to Sally’s breaking heart. She felt she had missed her opportunity of happiness, and yet knew she couldn’t go back. She had to hold her family up.

“Sally! Michael!” Sally was snapped out of her mood by Arlene’s smooth voice. She hugged and kissed each one of them. Sally noticed with envy the softened look on Michael’s face.

“Darling, you look positively charming!” Arlene said, glancing at Sally’s outfit, who smiled politely at the compliment.

“As do you.” Sally absent mindedly returned the compliment.

“Oh really?” Arlene said in mock-disappointment. “I was going for murderously mysterious.”

She posed, holding one arm in the air and the other on her hip. Her own description of herself certainly fitted much better. She was dressed in long black gloves that matched her satin black dress- sleeveless and tight fitting, accentuated by gold jewellery. Her red lips rivalled those of Sally’s.

“Oh you’ve certainly nailed the mysterious part darling.” Richard remarked as he came forward to greet the guests. He planted a kiss on Sally’s cheek and gave Michael a bear hug before embracing his wife.

“We’re so glad you could make it” Richard said. “It feels like I never see you anymore Michael.”

Only Sally noticed Michael flush a hot red, because only Sally knew the reason for why the two men drifted apart. Michael was too drunk to call up a friend. Richard and Michael have been friends since high school, yet as soon as Michael turned to drink he made a whole tonne of other friends down in the seediest bars around. Sally frowned. Those damn seedy bars.

“....work’s just been hectic, they brought in a new boss... so many policies are changing...” she half listened to Michael’s excuse, and couldn’t help but smile at Richard’s earnest smile, lapping up every word of the apology.

The party swiftly moved into the dining room, but Sally found herself unable to listen to Richard’s jokes and chit-chat. The house overwhelmed her. It was so grand and dark, with black marbled flooring and chocolate walls. She sat at the modern mahogany table- nothing like her tattered one at home. She always felt uneasy in the house, no matter how much she enjoyed spending time with Richard. And his wife of course. If this was Sally’s home, she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. The windows were so large and seemed to draw in more darkness, the reflection of the seated people the only thing visible through them. She wished for someone to comfort her. To hug her and make her feel at home. Tell her she’s wonderful and good enough. Sally followed this train of thought. No. She didn’t wish for just a someone. She wished for Jack. She bit her lip in frustration. She promised herself not to think about it. She lied to herself, telling herself the reason for that was because it was improper, and not because thinking about it would cause her too much pain. She gave herself a little shake and decided to focus on the evening. She was determined to enjoy it.

“Wine?” Richard offered.

“Don’t mind if I...” Sally begun but Michael cut her off.

“Yeah alright” He said looking straight at Sally. “No harm in it is there?”

She coughed.

“You need to be up for work tomorrow honey.”

“It’s just a drink Sally. Nothing to get embarrassed over.” He said as he took back his wine glass and tilted it to his lips. Sally flinched with hurt. Maybe what she said was a little out of line. But if it was then wasn’t this just proving her right?

“No. Of course it isn’t.” Sally said after a short pause. She turned to Arlene and Richard. “You know how it is. I just get so caught up in being a protective mother that I end up being a protective wife!” She said conjuring up a fake laugh.

“Oh I know entirely what you mean.” Arlene said. “The main issue is trust and detachment. I trust my sweet Richard, and he trusts me. So we feel no need to protect each other and spend every second with each other. It’s so refreshing this way. Us ladies know to leave a man to look after himself” She winked at Sally and glanced back at Richard and shot him a smouldering smile.

“We could certainly take a lesson out of their book huh honey?” Michael said in mock laughter and downed the rest of his wine.

“I suppose so. If that’s what you want” Sally said, hiding her anger. What did she leave Jack for? To help a man who didn’t want her help. She was furious. She had every right to tell him not to be embarrassing and every right to defend herself. Maybe Arlene was right: she should just leave Michael to fend for himself. But not only was she angry at this, she felt the familiar tingles of resignation of knowing Michael was drinking. Again. She tried to tell him. She couldn’t change him. She was done.

“Richard, tell us that story again.” Sally asked, keen to change the subject. “The one about the dog?”

She knew the story well. And so she let her mind drift for just a few moments. She studied Michael who sat opposite her, despising him more with every second. He didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy pouring himself another glass. Finally dinner arrived. Some soup in square bowls. On a normal day Sally would think “Square bowls? Who has square bowls?” but at that moment Arlene’s exquisite style, beauty and home making was the least of her concerns. Sally felt all the more agitated. She forgot about any idea of enjoying herself and simply focused on laughing and commenting at the right moment.

“...and so I shot the bugger” Richard finished his story, receiving laughs from all involved.

“Wonderful. Wonderful. Wonderful.” Michael said mumbling to himself, looking cheerful. Sally knew him well enough that this cheerfulness was ridden with mean spirit. “Today seems like the night for hearing Richard’s stories. Richard, why do you tell us how you met your beautiful wife?”

“Pfft, come on we all know this story.” Richard laughed and waved it off.

“Still, you put it so... neatly.” Michael insited.

“Weeelll... if you all want me too.”

“Oh yes darling. It is so romantic and funny.” Arlene said, stroking Richard on the shoulder while Sally busied herself with a mouthful of the newly arrived main course and wine. She did not want to hear that story. She knew it well. She knew Michael wanted Richard to say it, because it made Sally small and inferior and less important.

“Well it all started on a beautiful summer evening. Did it not my darling?” Richard said looking at his wife who nodded to every word.

“It happened on the very last night before I left for France to give Hitler the last kick up the backside. There was a summer ball, with many a fine ladies, but my eye was on just one. I came up to her, she was wearing a red polka dot dress and her hair was all done up on one side. I said to her” May I have this dance?” And she said “Only if you promise to kiss me”. So of course, that was a hell of a bargain. We danced and kissed all night. That was some of mine finest dancing you know. At the end of the night I told her I had to go and fight for my country. She asked “What will you remember me by? Where will you go when you come home.” So we wrote each other notes, little promises to see each other when I’m back, proclaiming our love. I kept it in my left breast pocket throughout the entirety of my service. Then when I get back, I find she’s with this jackass over here!” Richard said pointing at Michael receiving shriek’s of laughter from Arlene and Michael, and polite giggles from Sally.

“Naturally” Richard continued his story, “I was quite shook. I asked her: didn’t my promise mean anything? She said : The world! But I thought you were dead! We all did!” You see this happened back in ’48. I came from the war a few years late because I got caught up with all this nasty Berlin Blockade business and then having to go over to Israel and what with me getting moved around so much I never did get to write letters home. So anyways, I took out the note from my pocket and showed it to you Michael, and said “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding dear friend but I have here a ticket for this girl.” And Michael, the good natured boy that he was stepped back and let his childhood buddy get his dream girl. Michael, I raise a toast to you. Without you and your good nature, I wouldn’t have had any of the wonderful lifestyle I lead today.” Richard rose his glass as did everyone else, Sally and Michael taking long gulps of the wine. 1948 was the year Sally met Michael. 1948 was the year Sally and Michael married. Richard’s whole story put quite the dampener on the whole thing. And Michael purposefully brought it up to show Sally what an insignificant part she played in his life.

On the drive home the radio buzzed on and off depending on the signal. It began raining hard and Sally focused on driving rather than following little droplets of water down the windscreen. Michael dozed off pressed up against the side. She would get her revenge in her own way. How sad, she thought, it is that to do what makes her happy is to totally betray him. Oh well. The tires screeched on their driveway. Michael stumbled out.

“You’re not coming?” He mumbled.

“No. I’ve not intention of it. Try not to wake Amy and the babysitter up. I won’t be back till morning.”

She leant across the passenger seat and closed Michael’s door. She smirked to herself and drove off into the night. She didn’t know why she was smirking. She was totally split in emotions. Half ecstatic at finally doing what she wanted, half disgusted with herself for falling so quickly from her moral high ground. Half upset over Michael, half nervous over whether Jack will let her in. She ran a hand through her hair, brushing away tough hairspray, letting her hair rise up and down in a mess. What was she doing? She knew she shouldn’t. He had a sister in the house- if not a judgemental and wise maid. And yet she drove on. She was done feeling bad, feeling lonely and upset. Feeling sorry. She decided she wouldn’t park right on his driveway to avoid attention, and leave her car by a park, a short distance from him. She didn’t take rain into account. She was drenched as soon as she locked her car. She ran the short distance. She was in an unfamiliar state of euphoria where she was entirely uncertain whether she was at her happiest or darkest. Mostly she was just cold. She finally reached Jack’s door, he hair dripping with water, her dress pressing tightly to her undergarments. She knocked, bit her lip, and knocked again. The door opened, quickly, boldly. She saw Jack, bewildered, still dressed, the top few buttons of his shirt undone.

“I’m sorry for waking you.” Sally said quietly.

“I wasn’t asleep.” He said breathlessly, scooping Sally up inside.

Their lips made immediate contact. Their kisses were quick, rash, breathless. Nothing like before. These kisses were not polite nor afraid. Sally clenched Jack’s shirt, bringing him closer to him. He lost his hands in the wet folds of her dress, bringing the hem all the way up to her waist. Sally felt an unusual emotion stirring in her shoulders and ribcage. Satisfaction. So this is what it felt like to get what you want. She had to admit she liked it. She pushed away all thoughts of guilt, though there were many. She ran her hands up an down Jack’s torso. This was hers to explore and to own. For now. She could do what she liked with it. She moved her hand down his back, all the way down to test her new found powers. She didn’t anticipate what came next. A low chuckle in the tiny space between their mouths and the thud of her dress on the floor. She gasped in shock.

Suddenly Jack’s warmth was drawn away. He stood pressed against the wall, actually scared.

“This is where we stand, right? What we want?”

Sally pressed herself against him. She kissed his neck tenderly.

“I don’t know.”

Hesitantly, Jack’s arms wrapped around her body again.

“I can’t lie to you or make promises.” Sally said, trying very hard to mix sense with the pleasure she felt at being able to cup her hand around Jack’s face.

“I’m a married housewife with a runaway heart.” She felt her eyes burn with tears. “It’s so bad, but I need this. I need you.”

He kissed the top of her head and stroked her head.

“I’m here.”

He put his arm around her and lead her to the living room, turning on a dim light. He sat her down on the sofa and kissed her nose.

“Now you stay right here.”

Sally nodded silently like a child and followed Jack with her gaze. How different this seemed to the passionately desperate mood just a few seconds ago. Jack returned in a few moments with a blanket and a mug of hot lemon tea. He wordlessly put it into Sally’s hands and she hugged it close to herself thankful for the heat it gave off. The room held less freshness by night, instead casting warm shadows from the lamp across the room. Jack bent over the fireplace, and began lighting it up.

“Really there’s no need” Sally paused him.

“No, but I want to. It’ll be so nice and...”Jack stopped as Sally shushed him.

“Come here. Now.” She said playfully. Jack obeyed and fell into her arms. Sally adjusted herself so that she was lying on the sofa her knees and feet entangling themselves with Jack’s. She no longer felt cold or exposed. With Jack on top of her she felt secure, protected and most of all content. They stayed like this for what seemed like an eternity, moving slowly in time with each other’s bodies but never quite reaching that peak of taking all their clothes off. They both liked it that way. It was safe, and easier to pretend it didn’t count. Of course, what counted more in that moment was their ever growing admiration for each other, which was beginning to get larger than actions could ever convey.

As laid awake in the early hours of the morning, with Jack passed out next to her, still clinging onto her, she couldn’t push away the nagging voice in her head: You’re cheating on your husband. You’re cheating on your husband. You’re cheating on your husband. You slut.

Eventually the voices got too loud. Sally sat up and made to move and put her damp dress back on. She felt the weight of the world crash into her. “Go on then. Go to your husband.” She told herself. She bargained with her feelings. What felt better? Faithfulness or desire?

7. Perspectives

The morning was peaceful in the way that Sally’s silent presence could never allow. Michael’s head throbbed a little, but it was next to nothing. He felt like he should be ashamed of himself, but instead he felt indifference. He smirked slightly when he remembered Sally’s bitter face seated in front of him at the table last night, but it didn’t give him the expected joy. She was so judgemental, he thought he’d show her just what he could do. But his performance was really rather average. Only half a bottle of wine is hardly enough to satisfy the thirst of someone like him. It gave him only a hint of what could be if he succumbed to the cravings. God, if only he could have another drop. What was he quitting for anyway? It sure as hell wasn’t Sally. She wasn’t the girl he married. Ok, so maybe he changed a little himself too, but wasn’t their relationship supposed to mature with age? Like good wine. He was thinking about wine again. True, it was morning but he could go to the store right now and buy all the booze he wanted. It was tempting. Very tempting. “Daddy?” A little creature stood by his bedroom door.

“Hey my little love bug!” Michael smiled, and reached his arms out to her. Immediately the little girl beamed and ran into his arms. Michael held her for a few moments before tickling her. Amy erupted in infectious giggles. Michael glanced at his watch.

“Come on or we’ll be late!”

They dressed quickly and Amy prepared her school books as Michael made breakfast.

“Here you go” He placed scambled eggs in front of her and watched her eat. He knew if only he could phrase the question correctly he could ask Amy what happened. This was a golden opportunity.

“Amy, sweetie. Do you remember what happened when you got this bandage?” he pointed to her head.

“Mummy took me to the doctors and he fixed it.” Amy smiled at him. Michael couldn’t help but return the smile.

“But do you remember what happened before that? Why did you need to go there?”

Amy took another mouthful of eggs and drank some orange juice, not even lifting the large glass off the table, rather just tipping it into her mouth.

“You feel over daddy, and you smashed your glass, so I ran over to help you and to clean the glass up. Mummy always says it’s very dangerous to have glass on the floor because it can cut you so I picked it all up in my hands and put it in the bin. It hurt my hands a bit. And they started bleeding a little.”

“Amy, that’s because glass is sharp. It can cut you when you pick it up, even if it isn’t on the floor anymore.”

“Oh! Ok!” Amy smiled.

“So what happened then?” Michael asked. “How did you get this bandage?”

Amy made a weird face and shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Was it me? Did daddy do something to hurt your head?” Michael asked eagerly. Amy laughed.

“Don’t be silly daddy you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

“No, of course not” Michael stuttered, sweat dripping off his brow. He was safe! It wasn’t him!

“Daddy can you brush my hair?” Amy said getting up from the table.

“Of course darling.”

Amy loved getting her hair brushed. She liked it when her mum brushed it- quickly, expertly, forcefully, making blood rush to her head. She liked it when her dad fidgeted gently with knots and tangles desperately avoiding pulling her hair too tightly. She couldn’t enjoy it today. Today she lied. She was a bad girl, a naughty girl. She did remember what happened, but she lied and said she didn’t. Amy’s mummy never let her jump on the furniture, and climb like jungle girl from a comic daddy would read to her. Mummy didn’t even like it when daddy read it to her. When her daddy fell over Amy thought it was the perfect time to climb, and run and jump and roll like jungle girl. She remembered wiping her bloody hands on her face to make war paint marks on her face- just like jungle girl. She jumped from the 5th step to the ground floor, and slid down the banister. She did the wild jungle girl dance on the table, and pretended the chairs were rocks in the middle of the river. She climbed on the kitchen counter to get to the golden tree (the fridge) and get the healing fruit for her hurting monkey. She swung from a vine (the fridge handle) back towards the safety of her table raft. She swam and swam in the rivers- she had to save all the animals from the bad animal-catchers. She jumped on a chair, fell and hit her head. After that the game was no fun anymore. Amy’s head really hurt and dizzily she made her way towards her dad. He wasn’t responding. Amy yelled at him to get up to help her, she thought he died. Amy cowered in a corner and cried until her mum found her. Mummy didn’t ask any questions, and once Amy was back at home and in the safety of knowing daddy wasn’t dead Amy felt quite embarrassed at causing the whole escapade. What’s more she felt scared of getting into trouble. So she didn’t tell anyone what happened. Not even daddy. If daddy found out she was pretending to be jungle girl in the house he’d stop reading jungle girl comics to her. And Amy was not prepared for that to happen.

Sally awoke to a face prodding her gently on the nose. Hazel. Sally gasped in surprise and Hazel shot her a big smile.

“Good morning!” she yelled. In the background Jack was preparing breakfast.

“Hazel stop bothering Mrs White!” his voice came from the kitchen.

“Sorry! I forgot I mustn’t wake people up like that- Jack hates it. Here’s a dressing gown. And your ress is over there by the heater” The girl said without asking any questions as to the reasons why she was here. Sally assumed Jack told her something. Her head spun a little, confusion clouding her mind. What exactly happened last night? Hazel skipped off happily, so Sally dared to rise and put on the appointed dressing gown. She met Jack in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but pyjama bottoms and an apron. The sight made her smile in that affectionate, heart-softening kind of way.

“Morning” He smiled and placing his hand on the base of her neck, kissed her gently. Sally reacted with startling surprise. How long was it since a man kissed her in the morning? How long was it since a man didn’t have to be stupidly drunk to even want her? How long was it since a man wanted her and not simply wanted a woman? Sally replied to Jack’s kiss by running her hands down his sides. His body felt warm and soft against her fingers. They rested lightly on the waistband of his pyjamas.

“Morning” she smiled up at him.

“I made breakfast.” He said indicating a pan of frying eggs.

“Thank you but I must go and take my daughter to school” Sally said, remembering her life that seemed so far away now.

“Hazel is just about to leave right now. You won’t make it in time. I’m sure your husband can manage it”

Sally watched his lips in fascination as they smoothly glided over the word “husband”. As if it didn’t matter at all.

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