It was whistling.
Harry was in the shower whistling some merry tune, which was beginning to rub me up the wrong way. Just the simple act of him whistling made me realise that it was the day he was going to leave, and that’s when I made my final decision. Harry should have felt exactly how I felt. He should have been mortified that our marriage was ending or desperate to reconcile things. But he had made his decision, and he was giddy about it. I knew what I had to do, but I’d take no pleasure in it,
I opened the kitchen drawer and got my tablets out; I could feel the anxiety burning a hole in my chest. The blood started to rush up my neck, and it swelled under the pressure, closing my throat just enough for me to struggle with every breath. I swallowed the tablets and closed my eyes. He was never going to tell me about the affair. He wasn’t going to declare his love for me. A child wasn’t going to fix everything. That day would be the last day I ever saw him.
He was going to leave me.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
From the cupboard I then retrieved the pestle and mortar in which I put two of the tablets. I ground them down into a fine powder and then added two more in. I continued the process until I didn’t have any tablets left. I took the bottles of water I’d planned on packing for his trip and opened the caps carefully. I divided the powder between the two and replaced the caps. I was just placing them in the bag when Harry arrived from his shower, ready to leave.
“Not having any breakfast, Ames?” Harry asked, deceitfully shoving a fistful of toast into his mouth.
“I can’t. I feel sick,” I breathlessly replied.
“Amelia, whatever happens, we will deal with it,” Harry started, “do you not want to try the old-fashioned way one more time before I leave?”
Not a chance in hell.
“Funny. No, I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“I didn’t know I had that effect on you.”
“It’s just nerves about today.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to cancel? We can always go up together tomorrow. I don’t mind waiting.”
“No, it’s fine. I can’t bear to see Yvonne’s face if I robbed her of an extra day with her precious son.”
“What’s this?” Harry asked, pointing to the packed lunch I’d just prepared for him.
“Just a little survival kit in case you get hungry. A few drinks and snacks.”
“You really are the most amazing wife in the entire world, you know that?”
Why are you leaving me then? I thought. I knew that the right thing to do was to be vulnerable and talk to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to give him the satisfaction. Our marriage was broken beyond repair, and I knew that, but so did he. We were doing this little song and dance, both pretending to be happy but knowing the truth. He was positively bouncing around the kitchen like he didn’t have a care in the world. If I had been ignorant of the truth, I would have guessed it was because of Steve’s party or because he might have found out he was going to be a father. But I knew the truth. That day was the day he was going to leave me. I almost broke character but replaced my scowl with a smile before Harry caught on.
“I can’t have my man going hungry, can I? Or eating questionable service station sandwiches. When do you need to set off?”
“I thought I’d go now; the car is already packed. I’m going to try to avoid the morning rush. Is that okay?”
“Of course. I love you; I’ll see you tomorrow,” I smiled falsely, leaning in for a kiss.
“I love you, Ames. Let me know how it goes.”
Harry grabbed his bags, and I knew it would be the last time I ever saw him. There was enough Alprazolam in each of those bottles to kill anyone outright. If I got really lucky, Harry and his whore would both get thirsty at the same time, and they’d both be gone.
“Au revoir!” Harry shouted with his eyes crossed, lifting his top lip to expose his teeth.
I closed the door as he drove away and sat down at the kitchen island, contemplating what I’d just done. I didn’t know how to feel. I hadn’t twisted a knife through his heart or cracked his skull open with a blunt object, but I’d just murdered someone. Not someone, the love of my life. But love is meant to go both ways, isn’t it? I felt strange, mainly because of the lack of guilt. Maybe I wasn’t capable of feeling guilt anymore. I’d numbed myself with drugs and alcohol for so long that I didn’t even know how I should feel. I thought about Harry constantly and wondered if those water bottles were still untouched. I wondered if he took a few sips on the motorway, lost all his faculties, and crashed. Maybe he would make it to Filey, and he would just fade away in front of all his family and friends.
I started to panic. I’d lost control of it all, and I didn’t know what was going to happen or when. For all I knew, he could have discarded the bottles of water as soon as he left the house. I hadn’t even considered my own life in all this, and if someone had found out what I’d done, I would be going down for murder. Although what I’d done was premeditated and calculated, I’d largely acted on impulse regarding the timing. I ran upstairs and vomited in the toilet until there was nothing else left to come up, and I started crying uncontrollably.
After the purge, I convinced myself that it wasn’t my fault. None of it. Whoever Harry’s mistress was, she was to blame. If that venomous snake hadn’t slithered into our lives, Harry would still be breathing tomorrow. I was simply the delivery method of everything they deserved. I decided to try to put it out of my mind and pretend that it was just a normal day. I had an appointment to go to the clinic, and I should attend so as not to arouse suspicion. I didn’t know whether I wanted the result to be positive or negative.
The journey to the clinic was a haze. I could barely concentrate on anything other than wondering what was happening to Harry. I listened to the radio as intently as I could in case there was a report about a crash or an incident, but there wasn’t any. I parked up and looked at my phone, and he hadn’t been in contact. I checked in and sat in the waiting room in a trance. I was surrounded by optimistic couples desperately waiting for some good news, chatting amongst themselves. My name was called, and I walked through to the doctor’s office. I’d been in there many times with Harry, and I sat in my usual seat.
My attention is drawn to a small cut on his neck. It looked fairly recent but had scabbed over. It looked too large to be a shaving mishap, and I started to ponder what kind of implement would leave such a mark. My eyes lost focus for a second, and then I realised the doctor was speaking to me.
“Amelia?” he asked.
“Sorry, I was miles away,” I uttered.
“Like it said, it’s finally happened! The tests have confirmed you are pregnant. Congratulations!”
I didn’t respond to the doctor. I simply stood up and walked out of his office. He followed me out in confusion, shrugging at the receptionist, but I left without a further explanation. I stood outside the clinic in the busy Manchester streets and screamed as loudly as I could, much to the alarm of passersby.
Wave after wave of regret crashed violently into me, knocking me off my feet. I was drowning in guilt and remorse whilst I gasped for air on my hands and knees on the pavement. My clarity returned, and I couldn’t believe what I’d done. I’d killed Harry. He could be dead already for all I knew. I just wanted to scrub it all out and take it back, but I didn’t know if it was possible. I got my phone out as quickly as possible and started dialling Harry’s number.
“Hi, this is Harry. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message,” the phone played.
XIX
THE WORLD
HARRY - BEFORE
