Something from deep within her stilled the utterly devastating impact of this news. How angry she was! How dare he bring H? Later she learned how he had tried to slip away from H that morning, as he left home to meet her, but H had insisted on coming. Of course she dare not risk Coppelia convincing him to stay! - H was going to fight for this man.
The disappointment and anger flooding Coppelia were channelled into a determination not to allow emotion to destroy this encounter. In the few seconds she had to adjust to H's prescence she knew that love itself was the only power available to her. Love not only for him, but, as far as possible, love for H. Coppelia must act justly and lovingly towards H - somehow.
The market square car park was full. The day had grown hotter. Saturday morning shoppers were everywhere. Wedding bells played a cheerful overture to the little scene of three people seriously, intently talking as they leaned against his car in the middle of a sea of cars, where people constantly came and went, busy with their own lives, their own crises, all unware of the drama unfolding in what appeared a civilised, measured conversation.
On Coppelia's insistence he did, indeed, look her in the eyes and tell her he loved her, at the same time casting a furtive glance towards H, and saying "but I also love H, in a different way."
She pitied him, his troubled and fearful face betrayed confusion, sadness, and such anxiety that she began to feel guilty for focussing so much on her own suffering.
Clearly, H disbelieved two people so far apart in age could actually be 'in love'. She accused Coppelia of infatuation, told her to 'go find someone your own age' . She asserted that it must be lust, not love, that kept him seeing Coppelia, and launched into a barrage of criticism against him, how lazy he was, how he would drink, how he had not looked after his wife - and many other things. Coppelia apologised for the trouble she had caused, said how she had never intended to hurt H, how they had tried so hard to plan things to protect her as much as they could.
Coppelia held onto her love for him as she had intended. Can you understand the act of will needed to overcome the intense need she felt to just scream, cry, lash out, break down.. whatever was said, claimed, asked, she would revive her only concern - will that make him happy? Will this make him happy? If he had been happy, why did our relationship occur? All that matters to me is to make him happy. How can you make him happy, H? Do you really want him to be happy? Oh, how hard she worked not to criticise H, accuse her, to be respectful, fair - and how far this effort was from her true feelings!
They went around in circles, H insisting Coppelia would never stay with him due to his age, insisting that only she could make him happy as they 'had so much in common, had been through all these years together' , he standing there looking more perplexed and numb with every dreadful minute.
Coppelia slowly unravelled, as she realised he was not going to change his mind. He just stood and let H do the talking. "Do you really believe H can make you happy?" Coppelia cried, by now sobbing and feeling she would erupt any minute. "I cannot hurt her," he replied.
Coppelia's face flooded with hot, angry tears. "What about ME?" and she ran off, through the cars, to the road, across the road, where a car screeched to a halt as he, following her, grabbed her and pulled her back. She swung around and slapped his face, knocking off his glasses.
They stumbled back to the car, her struggling in his grip. By now H too was weeping. Coppelia slid down against the side of his car, sobbing in a heap on the ground. A shopper came over, kindly asking if they needed help. " What's happened, is everything alright? " The woman looked from H to him, and asked "is this your daughter?"
To which, Coppelia instantly shot upright and darted a reply directly at the woman -
"no, he's my lover!"
The disappointment and anger flooding Coppelia were channelled into a determination not to allow emotion to destroy this encounter. In the few seconds she had to adjust to H's prescence she knew that love itself was the only power available to her. Love not only for him, but, as far as possible, love for H. Coppelia must act justly and lovingly towards H - somehow.
The market square car park was full. The day had grown hotter. Saturday morning shoppers were everywhere. Wedding bells played a cheerful overture to the little scene of three people seriously, intently talking as they leaned against his car in the middle of a sea of cars, where people constantly came and went, busy with their own lives, their own crises, all unware of the drama unfolding in what appeared a civilised, measured conversation.
On Coppelia's insistence he did, indeed, look her in the eyes and tell her he loved her, at the same time casting a furtive glance towards H, and saying "but I also love H, in a different way."
She pitied him, his troubled and fearful face betrayed confusion, sadness, and such anxiety that she began to feel guilty for focussing so much on her own suffering.
Clearly, H disbelieved two people so far apart in age could actually be 'in love'. She accused Coppelia of infatuation, told her to 'go find someone your own age' . She asserted that it must be lust, not love, that kept him seeing Coppelia, and launched into a barrage of criticism against him, how lazy he was, how he would drink, how he had not looked after his wife - and many other things. Coppelia apologised for the trouble she had caused, said how she had never intended to hurt H, how they had tried so hard to plan things to protect her as much as they could.
Coppelia held onto her love for him as she had intended. Can you understand the act of will needed to overcome the intense need she felt to just scream, cry, lash out, break down.. whatever was said, claimed, asked, she would revive her only concern - will that make him happy? Will this make him happy? If he had been happy, why did our relationship occur? All that matters to me is to make him happy. How can you make him happy, H? Do you really want him to be happy? Oh, how hard she worked not to criticise H, accuse her, to be respectful, fair - and how far this effort was from her true feelings!
They went around in circles, H insisting Coppelia would never stay with him due to his age, insisting that only she could make him happy as they 'had so much in common, had been through all these years together' , he standing there looking more perplexed and numb with every dreadful minute.
Coppelia slowly unravelled, as she realised he was not going to change his mind. He just stood and let H do the talking. "Do you really believe H can make you happy?" Coppelia cried, by now sobbing and feeling she would erupt any minute. "I cannot hurt her," he replied.
Coppelia's face flooded with hot, angry tears. "What about ME?" and she ran off, through the cars, to the road, across the road, where a car screeched to a halt as he, following her, grabbed her and pulled her back. She swung around and slapped his face, knocking off his glasses.
They stumbled back to the car, her struggling in his grip. By now H too was weeping. Coppelia slid down against the side of his car, sobbing in a heap on the ground. A shopper came over, kindly asking if they needed help. " What's happened, is everything alright? " The woman looked from H to him, and asked "is this your daughter?"
To which, Coppelia instantly shot upright and darted a reply directly at the woman -
"no, he's my lover!"
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