Three days ago, Coppelia returned from a week away by the sea. She last saw him two weeks ago, on Wednesday May 13th. She knew how hard she would find this long separation, so the following Saturday, she joined her daughter in a cottage overlooking the waves, and has spent days walking for miles in sunshine, through woods, reedbeds, along the estuary, over the dunes... sleeping to the sound of the sea just outside.She cannot remember the last time they were apart so long. Probably summer 2007. Today, the ache for him - just to look at him, to touch his hand - hurts more than ever, even though she knows she will see him again in two days. Today, his prolonged absence suddenly feels like a lifetime.
The pain of this particular separation is made worse because she knows that, not so long ago when he still loved her, it would not have happened. Their planned day together last week would have gone ahead.
But, when invited to join a Probus club golf tour for five days in Wiltshire, even though he knew this would mean they would lose their one day together, he said yes, he would go. Before, only family commitments or commitments with H he just couldn't get out of, would have prevented him taking that one weekly chance of being with Coppelia.
"My lovely girl, I can play golf any time I like, but we have so few chances to be together so given a choice, it will always be you," he used to say.
So his choice to go had cut Coppelia deeply. She could have had no surer sign of much less she now meant to him. She knew it was pathetic, but she gathered some things from their last day together, something permanent, something to hold. She had worn her new purple suede gloves in the cool drizzle as they had parted in the car park. On leaving the hotel room, she slipped a small packet of biscuits into her pocket. Why? She just needed to. She bought a small bottle of his after shave and used it. Why? She just needed to. They had played with one of his golf balls and she carried this in her bag. Why? She so needed something of him. Anything.
He told her the time would fly by, they would soon be together again. He pressed her so close to him as they parted, she could hardly breathe. He kissed her so long, and so tenderly, she wondered how a man not in love could kiss that way. Was he trying to accustom himself to being without her for longer, in case one day he may have no choice?
Coppelia decided to do all she could to get herself through those two weeks. Work. Holiday. His phone calls. Embarking on some room refurbishment now she is back home - making changes to daughters' rooms.
One evening at dusk she had wandered along the promenade in the still, warm air sweetly scented by wild flowers growing on the cliffs. The shush-shush of the waves was hypnotic, a constantly soft brushing around the hard edges of her stinging memories. They had not spoken for four days. Today would have been their day together, yet he had chosen to play golf instead, he had chosen not to see her for two weeks and a day. Not to hold her, talk with her, be with her.
That evening it seemed so many couples were quietly strolling, sitting, holding hands. It was about 10.30pm, she would soon go back to her empty bed. She couldn't even talk to him. These couples would have each other. She wanted to go up to every single one, and shout 'do you realise how lucky you are? I hope you really really know how much it means to be together right now, by this sea, on this night!' She wrote...
What are you doing right now?
I cannot reach you
I want you so badly
a couple stand watching the sea
wrapped around each other
I watch
and imagine your arms around me, like that
I imagine they are us
I imagine your voice
and for just a second
I'm sure I can feel your breath on my neck
your kiss on my mouth
the couple wander off
the sea at night is so beautiful
would be ten times as beautiful
with you beside me
I need you so badly
