Storm

The call came at 10am that Friday.

On returning home the previous evening he had discovered H very distraught. She claimed she had found an unerased answerphone message from Coppelia. She confronted him. He confessed the truth. H became hysterical yet also fierce, making him feel dreadful for what he had done to her.

Then it came, the most devastating sound she had ever heard, disembodied words -

"I won't be seeing you again. I realise I don't love you anymore. I don't know if I ever did. I love H."

How could this be true? - these words must be for H's benefit, she was probably standing behind him as he spoke - Coppelia swayed in disbelief. Yet even if not true, how COULD he? How could the man she had trusted so very much, the man she had, only yesterday, heard say he could not imagine life without her, how COULD he do this to her?

Coppelia felt sick and faint and more afraid than she had ever felt before.
Her world out of control.

For the first time in her life she understood 'heartbreak'.
With those words a vice-like grip descended on her heart; a deep and relentless ache began which is still there today.

Feeling crushed as if gasping for air, she willed herself to remain calm, telling him he could not end it this way, he owed her a face to face explanation. She challenged him to look into her eyes and tell her he did not love her.

Sick at heart she lived through the remainder of that day as if she were half alive.
Sick at heart. Sick at heart and sicker. Sicker and sicker.
How can she write of this? She does not know how .There are no words for pain so deep.
There are no words.

A storm had raged suddenly upon her, she was in its eye, lost, in danger. She knew she was in danger.

Right and wrong

From time to time Coppelia asked herself whether they got what they deserved. Had they been foolish? Were they being unfair to H? They had now enjoyed ten months together - should they be satisfied with this? Should he, a man who had already enjoyed a long and happy marriage, have forgone this a second chance to enjoy some years of true love, at the end of his life? Should he have sacrificed his own happiness to keep H happy?

Were they wrong to have decieved her so long, perhaps it would have been better to announce the truth to H months ago. Yet Coppelia was convinced the path they chose was the kinder one. They could not avoid hurting H, but seeking to break the truth to her in stages would surely reduce her pain - how could that be wrong?

We can all find a way to justify our actions if we really want to, however wrong they are. Was that what they did? Dressing up their immoral behaviour with a false righteousness? How she wrestled with these things in the time that followed H's return from Germany. She could tell he was under great strain, seeing and hearing daily H's suffering as she tried to come to terms with his news. She began asking him if he 'had another woman' and he denied this, still wanting to wait...

Coppelia's fears grew and grew, as his guilt took hold. If they parted now, what kind of life would he have? How could he live at peace with H? They could not now undo what had happened and how they felt. For her part, she just had to share her life with this man - she did not want to die never knowing what this would be like.

What they had together was rare, and her resentment towards H grew each day. Why should Coppelia forego this chance, this chance that may never come her way again? H had been happily married for some years before meeting him. Coppelia had never experienced that. H was 80, Coppelia was 47. H was in fragile health, her years numbered - so if he left H now, she would not be missing much time with him. He, though very fit was now 78. To throw their love away would be a crime. Whichever way Coppelia studied it she reached the same conclusion: all should give way for their love. Their love could not be wrong - ever.

Wait. Time will do our work for us now. Wait. So they gradually grew into this new way of being, living with the strain which they convinced themselves would diminish over the coming months. H seemed to relax more after a week or two. A lightness returned to their times together. Days of joy and laughter kept their hope alive, their commitment to one another was a constant comfort. They would get through this. Parting was unthinkable.

It was just a normal conversation, when he rang her from Kings Cross station late that Thursday evening. They chatted and laughed about the day he had spent with his old friend, Ralph. The same friend he had been with when they first met ten months ago. The next time I see Ralph you must come too, he would love to meet you, he told her. Before he hung up to catch his train home, they had arranged to speak the next day and then meet the day after, Saturday July 7th, for a long walk by the river they loved.

That was the last night she would know peace for a very long time. She had no idea of the nightmare that had already begun crawling towards her as she slept.

"Always remember..."

Coppelia prayed for him that morning. He would be well prepared but nervous, he would dread the moment. Yet it had to be done. She wished she could save him from this ordeal. When he rang her later that day, he was subdued and clearly shaken. From relief, yes, but also because H had broken down and become inconsolable. They had wrongly believed his decision would be no great surprise to H, after all the two of them had grown more apart in recent years. Yet her reaction was one of shock, fear and almost hysteria.

He had made it clear to H that, although he would be away much more, he would not desert her. They could still share a house and he would remain a reliable friend - but she had refused to accept the idea of their no longer being 'officially a couple' but two friends living independent lives. He had reminded her that, from the start, they had only ever been friends. Each with their own bedroom, each with their own bathroom, each spending much time with their own friends and activities. For, however hard she had wished it, theirs was not, nor ever had been, a relationship of romance or even love.

He told Coppelia how H had claimed to 'really love' him, and wanted them to grow closer.

"If she really loved you, she would want you to be happy, to be free to be the person you need to be," was her reply.

So the feeling of freedom and relief that could have been theirs, was tempered by his concern over H's reaction, and over the deterioration in her existing poor health that ensued during the coming weeks: H's blood pressure caused problems, she was often tearful and became withdrawn and quiet. When, in June, H was invited to visit her family in Germany for two weeks they hoped this may provide her with the space and support to help her come to terms with his decision.

On being giving so much time on their own, they didn't need to think twice - they returned to walk the hills and moors in Yorkshire, followed by a few days nearer home following the Nene Valley path in Northamptonshire.

Her heart began to darken in those days. Had they been naive? Had they misjudged so badly? She began to see that H's resistance to his news could yet forge them apart; this phantom now haunted the dreams they still shared, the plans they still talked of.

For, no matter how deep his love for Coppelia, one truth now seemed to be seeping like a poison into his consciousness - he had given H his word he would care for her and ensure she was content; he owed her. Now his actions were threatening H's life.

Guilt. Coppelia had once read that guilt had more power than love.

Certainly during those days they lived some warm and wonderful times, they made beautiful memories which she still treasures, yet a poison was, indeed, at work. She read it in his eyes, heard it in his words.

She assured him that H would adjust in time, he must remember what they said on reaching this decision - allow a year, it was bound to be hard at first, and important not to lose their nerve in the face of H's emotion. Keep their eyes on the long view. The worse part was over, now all they had to do was wait. He had done the right thing. When H was calmer and more self-sufficient, he could reveal that he had fallen in love. He would offer H the choice - remain living there whilst he moved to Norfolk with Coppelia, or buy her a place of her own. In either case he would still meet with her as a friend, provide for her and ensure her material needs were met.

Of course, he went along with all this, and promised Coppelia his commitment to her was unchanged.

One night during that week in North Yorkshire, she had cried when they had talked of these things. She couldn't help suddenly feeling insecure, she feared losing him. She had woken in the night, left him sleeping and sat alone on the end of the bed for a long time. Silently sobbing, silently praying, she watched him lying there and wished with all her heart they could stay where they were. Being with him, knowing he was there for her - so simple. Please, please, it can't go wrong. Not after all this time.This man, this man of many she had known, who brought her happiness she had always longed for, please don't let anything take him from me. He is old, our time is limited. Please don't let me lose him. I couldn't bear that.

For the first time she felt real anger towards H, who had shared his life for nine years. Now it was Coppelia's turn. How could H be so selfish as to deny him his freedom? They were not married, not in love. He had told her he needed space and independence - why could she not respect that? Coppelia knew she was being selfish but she couldnt help it. She needed him so much. She felt so afraid.

Her quiet sobbing disturbed him and he pulled her beside him. He then held her as she had never been held before, and has never been held since. The whole length of their bodies were pressed close, limbs wound tightly together, as if their lives depended on it. For some time they stayed as one, silent, clinging on in the darkness, streams of unspoken words coursing through the touching of their naked skin. No movement, no sound, almost breathing for each other. She had never felt closer to another human being.
The words came, softly spoken yet firm, his mouth was against her neck yet every one was heard

"I love you with my whole soul"

How she clung to that memory, long long after that night. Later he had told her he never knew he was capable of saying such a thing to anyone, let alone feeling that way. But it was true - she had reached the depths of him, she knew the deepest parts of him, that no one had ever known before. Not even his beloved wife. He asked her to always remember what he had said, whatever happened.

When she asked what he meant, he spoke of his being likely to die first. She laughed, pretending to believe him, not revealing the fear his comment had struck into her heart. They continued as if nothing had changed. Yet everything had changed.

She knew.