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Without You

By : Tanay Kumar Das ( Posted on :13 Apr, 2006 )

Total Views : 716 | Previous | Next

"I can't believe it, I left my glasses downstairs again."

Sheila looked at him exasperated. He must be getting senile, she thought, although at only 35 that was worrying.

"Do you want me to go & get them?" she asked, but even as she did so she snuggled further under the duvet, knowing he'd never be so cruel as say yes.

"No", he smiled, "You look so cosy. Anyway its my fault for leaving them."

He got up & walked to the wardrobe to grab his dressing gown. The house was freezing this time of year, but they both tried not to put the heating on after 6.00 each evening. It was a throwback to when they were first married & struggling for every penny. Then they'd had to be frugal with such things as the heating, and old habits die hard.

Sheila looked at him as he tied the cord around his waist. He was looking tired. Work was stressful for him at the moment. Even now he was just about to start reading paperwork in bed again. She knew his manager was giving him hard time too, and Jim was the type to take it to heart. He might not say something but the constant worried look on his face was hard to miss.

"Have you got to read these papers tonight?" she asked. "Yes, unfortunately, there's a meeting first thing in the morning," he replied, on his way to the door. "But if the light's going to bother you then I'll work downstairs."

"No, it won't bother me", she answered.

In fact just the opposite. Sheila always felt slightly scared at night-childhood fears of the dark invariably came back to haunt her when the light was turned off. Ridiculous given the fact she was 34. Knowing that Jim was sat up in bed beside her, the soft glow of the lamp gently lighting the room, always soothed her, and lulled her off into sleep.

"Okay I won't be a second," said Jim, opening the door. Then as an afterthought he walked back to her & leaning over, kissed her firmly on the lips.
"I love you Sheila", he said gently.
"I love you too Jim", she replied, "Hurry up though, the bed's getting cold."

He smiled and opened the door, venturing out onto the cold landing. He shut the door quietly behind him.

Sheila opened her eyes & looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was 2.05 am. Why was the light on? She looked over to her left & saw Jim's papers still out, his lamp still on. His side of the bed was empty. Puzzled she rubbed her eyes. She must have fallen asleep. She looked again at the papers. They were exactly where they had been before Jim went downstairs to get his glasses. Where was he?

She quickly got out of bed and ran to the bedroom door. Oh God-he'd had a heart attack, she suddenly thought.

Out on the landing there was total darkness. She flicked on the light switch. Moving quickly she ran to the bathroom. She imagined him lying dead on the cold tiles. Terrified she pulled the light switch and looked around. Nothing. There was no sign of him. She left the bathroom & looked across the landing at the closed doors of the spare rooms. He wouldn't be there, surely? She ran down the stairs, panic overwhelming her.

"Jim! Jim!" she called, her voice echoing in the dark, cold house.

She ran into the living room & again turned on the lights. No Jim. However, looking around she noticed his glasses on the coffee table, untouched.

Heart hammering furiously she ran into the kitchen. Turning the light on she saw it too was empty.

Where was he? Out to the back garden she ran, freezing in her nightshirt. She looked around the garden, the grass shone silver in the moonlight. "Jim!" she called, desperation in her voice. There was no answer.

...........

"Well we'll do what we can Mrs Porter", said the policeman, draining his cup. "But generally it takes 24 hours before we officially declare a person missing."

"I know," said Sheila dully, "But something must have happened. I need you to help me please."

The policeman looked at her sympathetically.
"Have you called all your friends & neighbours, sometimes after arguments husbands, well you know....?" "But I've told you," said Sheila, exasperated, "We didn't argue. He was just getting his glasses. Something is wrong."

"Well Mrs Porter there's no sign of a break-in, so it seems unlikely he was kidnapped. We've also checked the hospitals in the area, no one matching your husband's description has turned up. I'm sure he'll be back in an hour or two-perhaps he popped out for ice cream or something."

Sheila looked away from the officer. She saw Jim's coat hanging on the door peg. She put her head into her hands. Where was he?

......

Sheila would hardly remember the next few days & weeks, years later when she came to think back on them. They were a blur. Vaguely she could remember being interviewed by TV reporters & newspaper journalists. The story of the man who went to get his glasses but never came back was headline news for a while-with wild speculation filling column inches. Sheila would dully repeat the story for the every journalist set before her. Her heart ached though, ached with a pain she had never felt before. Every phone call terrified her. Approaching the telephone she would know with cold certainty that it was going to be the police telling her he'd been found dead in some alley, left for dead by whoever'd kidnapped him. But the phone call never came.

Then she started to wonder. Could he have had a breakdown because of work & just left? But that wasn't Jim. That wasn't her husband. He loved her. If there was one thing that was certain it was that. What then...where was he?

Family & friends were no comfort. She could see in their faces that they thought he'd done a runner-fled to take up a new identity with some floozy. They obviously didn't know Jim like she did. Slowly she began refusing to answer their telephone calls and their knocks on the door. What was the point? They weren't Jim.

............

One month later she awoke with a start in her chair. She looked down. She was holding her wedding album in her lap. She looked at Jim's face, beaming in one of the photos. The album was wet. She realised it was from her tears. Turning away she buried her face into the side of the chair. Her shoulders shook as more tears wracked her body.

.....

How to go on? How to live? These were the questions Sheila asked herself each morning in the months & years that followed. Wake, wash eat, work, maybe eat again, repeat, repeat, until the pain went away. It never did.

......

The police closed the case. There was no sign of Mr Porter. It was just another missing person, some middle-aged guy suddenly decides he hates his life & moves on. Happened all the time.

.......

The house was cold Sheila realised. Best put the heating on. Walking up the stairs she suddenly realised it was almost five years since...She reached out with her mind as she sometimes did, trying to sense Jim somewhere in the world. But nothing. She sighed and continued up the stairs.

.....

It was a beautiful winter's day. The sun was shining on the frost, the sparkle dazzled her eyes. She pulled her cardigan around her tightly and carried on walking. She didn't know why but she felt happy today, a strange optimism was filling her, such as she'd not felt in years. Gareth, her colleague at work, had complimented her only yesterday. Said he'd never seen her looking so well. She felt herself blushing. She felt happy.

She was walking past the park. It too looked beautiful in the winter sunshine. A number of families had obviously decided to take advantage of the weather & were out for the day.

"Daddy throw it!", yelled one excitable little girl. Sheila smiled, watching over the gate as the father gathered up the ball. She stopped. Her heart was suddenly loud in her ears, her blood was pumping furiously. It was Jim.

She watched him throw the ball at the little girl. The girl couldn't have been more than four. He laughed as the girl stumbled running to pick it up. It was Jim. He had a child.

Sheila was shaking. She grabbed the park fence in her hands, ignoring the cold of the metal as she gripped tightly. Jim. How could it be?

Suddenly, as if sensing her, he looked in her direction. She saw his face drain of colour.

"Emily", he called, without taking his eyes off Sheila, "Go to your mother now."

Slowly he began to walk towards her. His face looked sick. Sheila stared at him, unable to believe that she was seeing him. She felt something odd flow through her. She realised it was anger.

He was a foot away from her, the fence between them.

"Sheila", he said, "How can..how...?"

She found her voice.

"What are you trying to say Jim? How could I have found you? How could I have discovered your hiding place? How stupid are you? You've set up your secret life in the same city? How did the police not find out?

"What...what?" He tried again, "What do you mean? Sheila...is that you?"

"Yes of course its me!" She realised she was shouting, and tried to lower her tone. "How could you do this to me Jim, why?"

"I ...I ..". It was no good. He couldn't seem to speak.

"Do you realise how long I've been looking for you Jim!" she cried. "How long I waited for you."

"Sheila...", he came nearer the fence and grabbed her arm. "Sheila."

"Jim!" she yelled, "It wasn't me who left. I've always been here. Where were you?"

His face changed. A sudden realisation seemed to pass over it. She didn't know what it meant.

"You have to come with me ,"he said, "Meet me at the park entrance." He began to run in the direction of his daughter and the woman, obviously the mother, who stood watching. He whispered something to them and they looked over. Sheila began to walk towards the entrance.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To my home," he replied, looking at her strangely.

She looked back at him. But suddenly she felt tired, too tired even to speak.They drove on in silence.His home was a modern bungalow in the newer area of town. It looked more expensive than their home had been. He must be doing well for himself now, she thought bitterly. She remembered scrimping & saving for the deposit on their house when they first got married. But they hadn't minded, they'd been so close, so strong. She looked at him as he unlocked the front door. His hand was shaking. He looked back at her. His face had not regained its colour. She suddenly realised what the strange look in his eyes was...it was terror.

He took her into the living room. It was very well furnished. A plush white leather sofa dominated the room. Totally impractical for children, she thought. But then again what would she know, she reminded herself. She'd never had any.

"Wait there, please, don't leave," he said, as he ran from the room.

Minutes passed. Something somewhere ticked. Then he was back. Holding a sheaf of papers in his hand. He sat down beside her on the sofa.

"Are you now going to explain?" she asked, Are you now going to tell me where you've been for five years?" She heard her voice shake. Suddenly tears were running down her face.

"I loved you Jim, why did you go?"

She looked at him for his answer. She saw that tears were also running down his face.

"Sheila, I never left you. I never would. Sheila look at these please."

He was thrusting the paperwork into her hands. She looked down at first not understanding, and then slowly the words sunk in. The papers were a coroner's report. The top sheet detailed how she had probably died from coronary failure, at approximately 2.05am five years ago, the night when...

She looked up at Jim.

"I died," she whispered.

He nodded slowly his face filled with sadness and grief.

"I thought you'd left me", she said, her voice sounding amazed.

"I never would," he said, taking her into his arms. Weeping she allowed herself to be held by him. She felt his own tears falling into her hair. Their life together flashed before her eyes. Suddenly she remembered him kissing her the night he..., just before he left to get his glasses. She had felt cold. For the first time she remembered the pain in her chest that had seized her later that night, as she lay in the dark. She was always so scared in the dark. Always felt so alone.

"I died," she whispered. "You didn't leave me." She smiled slowly, feeling warm & comforted once more. Jim felt the weight in his arms shift. He looked down. She was gone.

Written By : Tanay Kumar Das

Visit personal website of Tanay Kumar Das

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