Natasha Never Imagined Her World Could Fall Apart: Her Husband, the Only Man She Had Ever Trusted, T…

Harriet could scarcely believe what was happening to her. Her husbandher own, her only, the man she thought was her greatest supporthad said just this morning, “I dont love you anymore.”

The shock left her frozen in a ridiculous pose, unmoving as he scurried about, packing bags and jangling keys. It was the last thing she needed. Only recently, her father had died suddenly, and despite her own grief, she had to care for her grey-haired mother and younger sisterpoor Susan, crippled since eighteen after a terrible head injury. They lived in the next town over. Her little boy, Edward, had just started his first year of school. In June, the factory she worked at shut down, leaving her jobless. And now, her husband was gone, too.

Harriet wrapped her arms around her head, sat down at the table, and wept bitterly.

“Oh Lord, what shall I do? How do I go on? Oh, Edward! I must dash to fetch him from school!”

The necessity of daily duty forced her to gather herself and keep moving.

“Mum, have you been crying?”

“No, Eddie. No.”

“Is it about granddad? Mum, I miss him so much!”

“I do too, darling. But we must be strong. Granddad was always bold and sturdy, you know. Hes at peace with the angels now, dont worry! Hes finally restingnever did, while he lived.”

“Wheres dad?”

“Dad? Off on another business trip, I expect. How was school?”

Life must go on. Doesnt love her? Well, nothing to be done. No use clinging to whats not there. Somewhere, tangled in lifes busyness, she missed the signs.

While Edward had his tea and played with his tin soldiers, Harriet found herself nosing about in the computer her husband had left behind. Shed never done it before. His email was easy to access, just a small icon in the top left. He hadnt even cleared the latest correspondence. He was mad with love for someone else. And sheshe was now the unloved. Ten years “my bright sunbeam,” and after eight years struggling to have a child, she had been “our dearest mum.” Now, all had changed, and she would have to get used to it.

First things first, she needed a job. Nobody cared about her advanced degree. The pittance you got from the Job Centre as unemployment benefit wouldnt even keep a cat in food.

What had happened? Why had her steady, thoughtful, dependably caring husband turned so utterly cold? The only explanation she could grasp was that hed lost his senses. The house theyd built together, brick by careful brick, lay unfinished. At least the roof was on, and one room fit to live in.

“Work, I need you so desperately,” Harriet would have cried again, if she had the time. She needed work more than anything.

Days went by in vain attempts. Edward being in his first year and her being on her own reduced her chances to almost nothing. Late one discouraging evening, Dick, her long-standing friend, called.

“Harriet, has he come back yet?”

“No.”

“Would you take a job as a storekeeper?”

“Youre serious?”

“I know things are grim for you since Jack up and left. Its part-time, with breaks, so you could run off to collect Edward or sort after-school care. The pays £25paltry, I know. But its better than nothing. Well bring you some potatoes, onions, and a chicken tomorrow.”

“Dick, I’ve got my own hens. They keep us goinglay lovely eggs!”

“Then let them do their job! Never eat the layers.”

“Thank you. And hows Helen?”

“Managing. Shes ace, you know her. Pulls through anything.”

He was ever like that. His wife, Helen, had undergone major surgery, was on rounds of chemo, but not once did he complain, even with everything on his shoulders. “Alls fine,” hed always say. Harriet sighed. There was still hope. Thank heaven for Dick.

The work was straightforward, and there were odd moments to gather her thoughts, to shed a few tears, to try and process what had happened.

Time strode forwarddays, weeks, and then months. After a year, Harriet found herself waking hungry, able to sleep, to laugh, to delight in Edwards little victories. Yet, the sting of her husbands betrayal flared each time he came by to fetch Edward for the weekends. She didnt stand in the waytheir troubles shouldnt weigh on the boy. She longed to ask what shed done wrong, even as she knew it was not her faultthe spark for another had overtaken her husband. She remembered a line from an old film: “Love lasts till the next bend in the roadthen life sets in.” For her, love and life could never be untwined. What of him?

That year, autumn dressed itself as summers echo: warm, leaves clinging green to their branches, the street alive with childrens laughter, and the garden aglow with asters and chrysanthemums. The day Michael caught her eye was much like any otherperhaps the sunshine brighter, a tune drifting cheerier from a neighbours window. Or perhaps it was simply time for two lost souls to meet by fates design.

“Madam, let me give you a hand. You shouldnt be carrying so much!”

“Im used to it.”

“Shame for someone so lovely to make a habit of lugging heavy bags.”

“You help all the ladies like this? Lurking by the shop?”

“Indeed, been waiting ages just to meet a lovely ladyand now Ive found one!”

She couldnt help but laugh, and they chuckled together until tears spilled.

“Michael,” he introduced himself, laughter still lingering in his eyes.

“Harriet,” she replied.

“‘Oh Harriet, oh Harriet, someone elses wife…’ You know that song?”

“No. But Im not someones wife anymore.”

“Well, fortune smiles at last! Here I meet a rare gem, and shes free. Everyone else must have gone batty or blind.”

“Clearly youve a sharp wit. But are you ever serious?”

“I can be. Harriet, would you go to the pictures with me? Just to talk, and get to know one another?”

“I cant, sadly. Must fetch my son from after-school club.”

“I can hardly credit it. You have a son? You look all of twenty, not old enough for school runs!”

“Im thirty-five.”

“So am I! What a turn-up. But you truly do look ever so young.”

“And now?”

“NowIm taking it in. Every chap wants a son, and here you are, unwed wheres his father?”

“Id rather not get into that now.”

“Then lets not. Perhaps this weekend? Bring your son along; theres a childrens matinee on.”

“My ex-husband spends weekends with him now.”

“Harriet, I dont want to be a bother. But if you find an hour or two to spare, ring me. Heres my cardnumbers on there, and I am, believe it or not, a doctor. Paediatric haematologist.”

“Serious work, that.”

“No time for chasing pretty girls, either.”

“Thank you, Michael. I will call,” she said softly, earnestly.

“Ill wait.”

Oh, what an autumn that was! It seemed a gift, all golden sunshine and riotous, swirling leaves. Warm, placid days drew them out to every park in town. And tenderness, bursting through the old hurt, spun them together in a dance beneath the bright fall foliage. They grew close with such gentle care that even Harriet was surprised to find herself drawn to this remarkable man. Barely six weeks after theyd met, she shyly suggested, “Would you like to come in for tea?”

“Harriet, dont be cross, but I cant. This means a lot, whats happening now, and I need to handle it right. Do you trust me?”

The next weekend, they went to a nature reserve where Michael rented a quaint cottage like a miniature castle. Inside, it was spotless and snug, but Harriet saw only his deep brown eyes, and in his arms, she melted away. She hadnt known that what happened between a man and a woman could be so sweet.

“Michael, where am I? Whats happened to me? It feels like Im dyingI love you so! How did I ever live without you? Ive never felt so happy.”

“You are beautiful. Im the luckiest man alive!”

A few months passed, and parting grew harder each time.

“Dearest Harriet, will you marry me?”

“My divorce finalises at the months end.”

“And straight after, youll marry me. Before someone else steals away my girl.”

“Well, this girls not for just anyone. Shes found her love. But lets keep it simpleno fuss or frills. Lets just sign the book and go away, to the castle where I truly became your wife.”

“As you wish, my love. Whatever you say.”

Dick and Helen were their only witnesses at the registry office. Her mother and sister sent the warmest telegram of congratulations. Soon after, they moved to the flat Michael had leta tidy two-bed that they fixed up together, creating a welcoming home. Michael took particular care with Edwards new room. Though theyd met before, Edwardwho still thought of his parents as two halves of an applewas slow to warm to Michael.

“Harriet, please dont be alarmed, but lets check Edwards bloodwork. Hes too pale for my liking.”

“Oh Michael, dont start. Hes been through so muchhe still hoped wed reunite. Ive read that divorce can be worse for a child than the death of a parent.”

“Youre wise indeed. I, too, was a child when my parents splitit was like the sky fell in. But we must do the bloodwork, alright, lad?”

That day, Michael returned home, head lowered. Harriet knew at once something was wrong.

“Harriet, dont panicthere are worrying changes in Edwards blood. Sadly, my instincts were right. Ill take him to hospital tomorrow.”

It felt unjustmust happiness always come with a price? Especially such a steep one. Leukaemia. What a dreadful word!

A different life commenced. Harriet took unpaid leave; she couldnt imagine Edward enduring endless tests and drips alone. She sat with him, holding his hand, endlessly repeating, “Be strong, my boy! Youre my bravest friend, weve never left each others sides. Well always be together.”

When she flagged, Michael insisted she rest, sitting with Edward himself. Sometimes, she managed to sleep. More often, shed lie on her back, staring at the ceiling.

Her ex rang, demanding she remove herself from the half-built house.

“Ill mind my son myself. He can visit me in his true home.”

“You should visit him,” she replied.

“Cant. Off traveling for work.”

She told Michael, who squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

“Harriet, love, well sort out our own future. Dont cling to the past.”

“It just stings a bit, you know. I put my all into that house. And nowdoes any of it matter, when hes asking me to leave?”

“Forget it. Put all your thoughts into Edward. Ill manage everything else. I always dreamt of a familyGod knows that. He wont take you or Edward from me.”

“How are Edwards results?”

“Still trying, but not good yet.”

Harriet cried in silence. Edward mustnt see.

“Uncle Michael, whats wrong with my blood?”

“You see, in our blood there are red and white ships. Yours are having a fierce battle.”

“Whos winning?”

“Right now, the white.”

“What happens next?”

“You help the red ones win.”

“Mum, can you take me somewhere? Im so tired.”

“Harriet, I thought so too. Lets take Edward to the cottage. The weathers fine. Well walk the woods and rest.”

Spring dressed their hideaway in blossoms. The three wandered the forest, marvelled at every bloom, every blade of grass. Sometimes, Edward would pause, face intent.

“What is it, son? Are you alright?”

“Mum, dont bother meIm in a naval battle!”

A short holiday, and Edward looked betterrosy even.

“Mum, wheres dad?”

“Working, love.”

“As always? Oh well.”

Back at the clinic, more tests. The labs head herself came to find Michael.

“Dr. Evans, where did you take your boy?”

“Nearby, to the reserve. Why?”

“Well, his bloods much improvedhes in remission.”

Michael ran to the ward.

“Edward, what did you do? Youre getting better, son! Dont cry, Harriethes on the mend. Really, whats made you better?”

“Dad, remember you told me about the ships? Each battle, I made sure the red ones won.”