Terry opens the boot of the car and extracts Deanna’s bag. It’s pitch black. The moon hides behind thick cloud cover and not a single star shines in the night sky. It’s so peaceful at this time of the morning.
‘Thanks, Terry,’ says Deanna, taking the bag from him.
‘See you on Monday at eleven,’ he says.
‘Yes. Have a good weekend.’
‘You too,’ he replies.
Deanna approaches the house, which, apart from the porch light, is plunged in darkness. At two-thirty in the morning everyone will be asleep. She enters and stands for a moment in the quiet of the hallway. Home – her creation – and, yet, with everything that has happened during the past eight days, it doesn’t feel like home at all. Her job is not only demanding and all-consuming but also totally fulfilling. Thankfully, being organised is second nature to her. With the responsibility of ensuring performances go without a hitch, she’s coordinated rehearsals, managed the cast, the lighting and sound technicians, the props and costume department, as well as overseen set changes in between scenes while handling any problems as they arose. She’s met a multitude of fascinating and different characters, and feels her own personality is rapidly reshaping into something it was meant to be all those years ago. It’s so exciting and she hasn’t had a moment to reflect. But now, in the stillness of the sleeping household, she considers who she is. No longer is she simply the wife of Oliver Foxley and mother to his children. The former Deanna Harrington is becoming the woman she should always have been. She smiles to herself. Once her transformation is complete she will have the best of both worlds.
Deanna carries her bag upstairs and checks on her sons’ bedrooms, satisfying herself that the boys are all home. Continuing along the hall to the master bedroom at the far end, she opens the door quietly and peers into the darkness. From the light of the hallway she can see the bed is undisturbed. So, Oliver hasn’t changed rooms. She thought he might have chosen to move back in, ready for her return. She will surprise him in the guest room. After all, she wants him to benefit from her newly acquired sense of self too, which she hopes will put their relationship back on track.
Deanna switches on the bedroom light and enters the room. Placing her bag on the bed, she quickly unpacks. Then, slipping out of her clothes, she throws on her dressing gown and opens the door again. Silently, she crosses to the guest bedroom, glancing along the hallway as she does. The house is beautifully coordinated and she congratulates herself on her eye for detail. If she weren’t so intent on rebuilding her theatrical career she might have considered interior design. Deanna pushes down on the handle and opens the door to the guest suite. For a moment she doesn’t comprehend and a look of consternation settles on her face. This bed is also empty. Flicking on the light, she enters the room and strides to the wardrobes and, with hammering heart, throws open the doors. His clothes are still on the hangers. She frowns and turns to face the room again.
Where is he? She wants to celebrate her new-found sense of fulfilment with him!
Entering the en-suite, she notices his flannel is missing, as are his toothbrush and toothpaste. What’s her husband playing at?
‘For God’s sake, Oliver. Why do you always have to complicate things?’
Switching off the light, Deanna marches back to her bedroom and paces the floor. Where the hell is he? This is what infuriates her the most. Over the years she’s been the mastermind behind their life, but as soon as he’s left in charge he goes off at a tangent and disrupts all her plans. She never knows where she is with him. If she doesn’t keep tight control of the reins everything falls apart. Deanna angrily throws back the bedspread. It’s only then she sees his note as it sweeps onto the floor.
Dee,
Something came up and I had to go to Cornwall. Don’t worry, Charlie kept an eye on Seb and Jamie. I expect to be back Monday midday.
Hope the week went well. Will phone tomorrow to catch up on your news.
Oliver x
‘Bloody Cornwall…’ she screams.
Ripping off her dressing gown, which suddenly feels as constricting as a straitjacket, Deanna climbs into bed and sits with the covers up to her waist. Her eyes narrow. What came up in Cornwall? Something to do with that house he’s buying, or something else? Immediately, Deanna’s thoughts turn to Cara. The golden girl. There’s no denying it, she was stunning! But Oliver is often approached by beautiful women and over the years she’s had to train herself not to mind and simply allow these women their five minutes of fame with her husband. With this woman, however, it was different. When she first saw Cara she felt subservient and inadequate; unfamiliar feelings to her. It shocked her when she felt apologetic for not allowing her life to be stripped away. The only thing she believed gave her power over Cara was the fact that she’d given birth to Oliver’s children.
‘Sod you, Oliver!’
As the emotions of that summer flood back to her, Deanna stares unseeing into the room. It seems only yesterday she drove to Cornwall in a mad panic, on the verge of losing her husband and all that she’d created over the years. She took Jamie with her, even though he had a broken wrist, because she knew that whatever her husband planned to do he’d hesitate if he saw his youngest son was in trouble. They surprised him, turning up unannounced at his final performance at the Minack Theatre. But she, too, was surprised. He looked so different. In all the years she’s known him Oliver has battled his inner demons, but he seemed happy and relaxed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Unable to prevent her mind from travelling there, Deanna relives her shock at the realisation he looked whole. She remembers how deep instinct told her that Oliver and Cara belonged together. Deanna bites her lip. Not everyone ends up with the person they’re meant to be with. Oliver has a life with her and the children. Surely, he’s not going to jeopardise that now, having already returned to the family once? Yet again he has done something to reaffirm her reasons for building a life outside their marriage. She won’t allow him to make her feel inconsequential, but she knows it’s a fine juggling act that she’s trying to pull off.
Deanna glances at the alarm clock – 3:45 a.m. Where is her husband? What’s he doing now? Is he with the golden girl? Deanna hugs her knees. Life is changing and she must not allow her trademark strength and control to slip an inch. She has to keep moving forward.