While Joss had his mid-morning nap I re-read Liam’s email. I also asked Dad whether he minded if I phoned Liam from time to time. Of course he said he didn’t mind at all, but in the long run he said it would be cheaper to communicate by email. I decided it was time to embrace the new technological age:
‘Dear Liam,
Dad helped me set up with an email account, but he doesn’t mind us using the phone from time to time. Emails are a good way for Amy to keep in touch with you, although if she actually spoke with you it would be better I think. What is the time difference? Are you five hours behind the UK? If so you would have to call at weekends I expect when you’re not at work and Amy is home.
Of course your dad can come and see Amy any time he likes. I don’t feel up to going out and visiting just yet, but he is welcome here. Amy started school today; she’s only there for mornings at the moment, but I expect will soon feel able to stay all day.
We both left many things unsaid, but I think it’s probably better that way. We are two different people to those of ten years ago, and there’s no way I would want to interfere with the life you have now.
Love and hugs back,
Beth x’
I watched the blue line going across the screen as the email was being sent, and wished I could have told Liam how much I loved him and how much the thought of seeing him again had kept me going through the dark days of imprisonment. I wished I could have told him that there would never be a man who could even begin to match up to him, and that losing him all over again to another woman had made me start to wonder whether life was really worth living after all.
Surprisingly within a few moments Liam had typed a reply. I checked my watch and it was 10:47am. Across the pond it was very early in the morning. Liam had always hated mornings:
‘My dear Beth,
I’m here in the office while Patty and Toby are still in bed. I’m not sleeping too well lately, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t wait to talk to you and hear your voice again. Perhaps we can make a regular time to talk?
More love and hugs, Liam. xxxxxx’
Wednesday 24th January – 11:54 am
It’s getting harder to come up with excuses not to walk with Mum when she takes Amy to school. It’s getting to the point where I don’t even want to open the front door to put the empty bottles out for the milkman. The sky seems vast and unforgiving. The wound from the caesarean is healing nicely and I’m not in so much pain now, but the thought of venturing outside into the great wide open sends me into a panic. Poor Amy has had so much to cope with in her short life, and to see her mother having a full-blown panic attack in the street would really freak her out I’m sure. I feel sweaty and shaky at the thought of having a panic attack in front of everybody. What if I can’t breathe? What if I’m sick?
I try and reason with myself that I’m just panicking about having a panic attack, but it’s no use. Mum’s getting suspicious that there might be something wrong with me. She wants me to make an appointment to see a GP at their practice just to get checked over, but I could no more go outside and walk to the surgery than I could walk to the school. I’m frightened. I think I’m losing my sanity.
The doorbell rings, but Mum and Dad have gone to pick up Amy. My heart thumps as I peer around the front door, and I try not to look up at the sky. The postman hands me a parcel and I close the door quickly. It’s the web-cam!
I send an email to Liam to let him know I read his message, but I assume he’ll be getting ready for work. I cuddle Joss and sigh, as the day stretches endlessly before me. I know I will have to wait until at least 11pm to receive a reply:
‘Darling Beth,
I can’t wait to speak to you again. I’m still sleeping really badly, and Patty is getting used to me walking about at night and getting up early. I want to call you from here in my office at 05:45 my time (10:45 your time) every morning before I go to work. Will you be at home then (I hope so!)?
How is Amy getting on at school? Is she staying for the whole day yet? Please could you email me some photos of yourself and Amy?
See you tomorrow.
Love, hugs, and more love than you could ever imagine. xxxx’
‘My dear Liam,
It’s late at night now for me. I’ve taken some photos of Amy in her school uniform today, and have attached them for you. She’s adapted so well that next week she’ll be staying at school all day. The headmistress told Mum that Amy is ahead of her classmates in maths, reading and science, but will need to catch up with German and classics (my two worst subjects at her age). It’s a wonderful school; last night she brought home a flute and played a little tune on it. She’s surprisingly musical, given that I don’t play any instrument and sing like a corncrake. It must come from your side of the family.
I am at home all the time at the moment as I’m having a few problems going outside. I haven’t mentioned it to Mum and Dad as I don’t want to worry them, but the thought of walking Amy to school brings me out in a cold sweat. I yearned for the day when I would be free, but now I am I find I’m still in a kind of prison of my own making. I am trying to reason with myself but it is just not working.
I’m so looking forward to talking to you on the phone. Of course I’ll be here to receive your call.
Lots of love,
Beth xxx’
Thursday 25th January 11:18am
An email has popped into my inbox.
‘My darling Beth,
It was so wonderful to talk to you just now. I couldn’t sleep at all last night and by all accounts should feel like shit now, but I’m still on a high. Patty must have woken up and wondered where I was. She came into the office and found me sitting at my desk at 05:20, patiently waiting for the right time to phone you.
Thanks so much for the photos of Amy. I still can’t believe I have a daughter; she’s so beautiful. Could you get Sally or Robert to take some photos of you and send them to me in your next email please?
I’m worried that you’re having trouble leaving the house. Maybe it’s post-natal depression? You know as well as I do that an anti-depressant will help. Do it for me; go to the doctor and get checked over.
I can hear Toby crying. I will say goodbye for now and will speak again tomorrow.
I love you,
Liam xxxxx’
My heart skips a beat at his declaration of love. I want to feel his arms around me, holding me close. However, I know this is never going to happen, and that I will just have to make do with seeing him on screen. Life is so unfair.
Mum comes into the office and asks if I would like to go with her to a jewellery party at a friend’s bungalow opposite. She says we can take Joss and go on from there to pick Amy up. I immediately start feeling panicky at the thought of going outside and crossing the road, let alone walking to the school. I shake my head and Mum knows there’s something going on. She gives me a hug and I cry as though my heart is breaking.
I tell Mum through my tears that I’m frightened to leave the house, and I find the confession brings me some small relief at getting the problem out in the open. Mum asks if I would like the GP to come and see me at home, and I nod. What’s left of the sensible part of me knows I have to try and fight these overwhelming feelings of fear and anxiety somehow, before they totally take over my personality and reduce me to a gibbering wreck confined to rocking backwards and forwards on the settee.
Dad appears and offers to phone the GP, and the doctor agrees to come to the house after his morning surgery. I feel dreadful at putting everyone to so much trouble, but Dad says I have been through a lot and it is going to take me a while to adapt to my new life. Both Mum and Dad are surprised at how well Amy has settled down, but I know that children quickly learn to adjust to new surroundings. I only wish that I could do the same.
Mum lets the doctor in on her way out to pick Amy up from school. I am grateful that she takes Joss with her in his pushchair. I tell the GP I’m sorry to bring him out, and start to c
ry again. He says it’s no trouble, and Dad fills him in on the recent events. After examining me the doctor says I’m recovering well from the birth, but am suffering from severe anxiety and depression. He prescribes 10mg of Citalopram to be taken at night, and says it will take a couple of weeks before it kicks in. I’m to let him know if there’s no improvement after a fortnight, and he will consider increasing the dose. He also says not to suddenly stop taking it if I feel better, but to stay on it for a few months and then gradually wean down.
Saturday 27th January 16:24pm
Amy was over the moon at being able to speak to her daddy. She played the tune on her flute to him that she’d been rehearsing all week while I held the phone up. He emailed a photo of himself, and I’ve printed it out and put it in a frame by Amy’s bed. She’s a different child; she’s adapted well to sleeping in her own room and only has occasional nightmares. She no longer constantly clutches the reading book that Evans gave her, and it now seems permanently consigned to one of the shelves in her bedroom.
When I spoke to Liam before he went to work yesterday I was aware that at one point Patty must have been in the room with him, as he stopped speaking and suddenly ended the call, and I had to wait a few minutes until he re-dialled. I asked if Patty had discovered him talking to me, and said that I didn’t want to cause any trouble between them. He replied that he wasn’t committing any crime, and who he talked to on the phone was none of Patty’s business.
I’ve just realised that I haven’t felt like crying at all today. I still don’t feel like going out to the shops or taking Amy to school, but apart from a bit of a dull headache I have not felt too badly all day. Perhaps the Citalopram is starting to work? I remember that many of my past patients were taking anti-depressants, and now so am I. I tell myself it’s nothing to be ashamed of.
I decide to send Liam an email later on that day:
‘My dear Liam,
Amy was so delighted to speak to you today. She now has the photo you sent in a frame by her bed. I think I’ll take another copy of it and do the same! I’m attaching one of me that Dad took today.
I’m not so weepy today on the Citalopram. I’m hoping that soon I’ll feel like going outside. I’d love to take Joss out in his pram, but I suppose I’m trying to run before I can walk. Joss is a very contented baby and I suppose I’m very lucky in that respect.
Just to be able to speak to you in the mornings is a real tonic for me, but please stop calling if Patty doesn’t like it. She mustn’t feel threatened by our past relationship. However, we have a child together and she must understand that you would want to keep in touch for that reason. The last thing I would want to do is break up the little family that you have now.
All my love,
Beth xx’
Sunday 28th January 07:19am
Liam must have stayed up late last night, as there is a reply to my email when I log in before breakfast:
‘Darling Beth,
Thanks so much for the photo. I’m glad to hear you’re feeling a little bit better. Depression creeps up on you and you don’t realise it until it’s got you in a firm grip.
I will continue to talk to you every morning before I go to work as long as you’re agreeable. I can’t start my day now without hearing your voice. I can’t help my feelings for you. I loved you long before I met Patty, and I will continue to love you until the day I die. I will never stop loving you.
Patty is my partner and the mother of my son, and I love him with all my heart. My conflicting emotions are tearing me up. I will never love Patty as much as I love you, and there is absolutely nothing I will ever be able to do about it. Sometimes I just want to jump into a plane and take up where we left off, but to hear Toby call me daddy as he reaches out his arms for me is just the most wonderful thing in the world. He is relying on me to love and provide for him, and I cannot let him down. I only wish I could have got to know Amy sooner. I feel I ought to be there for her as well, but cannot be in two places at once. I have set up a direct debit so that every month you will receive enough money to cover her school fees and whatever else she needs. I’m so sorry but that’s all I can do, apart from hopefully seeing her in the school holidays if she (and you) would like that.
Yours forever,
Liam xxxx’
I put my head in my hands after I read the email. My love for Liam was like a deep ache that wouldn’t go away. I wanted him so badly at that moment that it was like a physical pain, and I knew the only way to remove the agony was to be held in his arms. I just had to reply with a message of my own:
‘My darling Liam,
Thank you so much for the direct debit. Of course you can see Amy whenever you want to. She is so very happy to have found her real daddy at last.
The love we had was a beautiful thing. The wonderful memories I had of you have stayed in my mind all throughout the last ten years. I cannot expunge you from my memory no matter how hard I try. I ache to be with you; it is a gnawing ache that will not go away. However, the love you and your son have for each other cannot be tarnished in any way; I do not want to break up your family. We have to be content with talking to each other on the phone, and I look forward to this every day. I know Amy is counting the hours until she can speak to you later on.
You will stay forever in my heart,
Beth xxxx’
Within a short time an email comes back:
‘My darling Beth,
I can’t sleep for thinking about you. It 2:30am here and I’ve already told Patty I’m coming back to bed. She’s not happy that I’m sitting here in the office sending emails in the dead of night. She heard us talking on the phone last week, and I think she’s going to make it very difficult for me to actually be able to get some free time to talk to you. She’s starting to appear in the office whenever I’m in here, so for the next few weeks or so I’ll email you from work. That doesn’t mean I’ll not be able to speak to Amy; she’s ok with that, but she’s not happy that I’m spending so much time speaking to you.
I have to go now. Love you. xxxxxx’
Wednesday 31st January 09:31
Today I managed to walk with Mum, Amy and Joss to the top of the road without breaking into a cold sweat. Mum carried on taking Amy to school, and I walked back to the bungalow with Joss in his pushchair. I took a little plastic bag in case I panicked and felt sick, but I was surprised to feel quite normal in that I didn’t feel short of breath and my heart wasn’t thumping away. I was so pleased with myself! There’s a downside to taking the anti-depressants though; I seem to be permanently hungry. It’s too easy to sit and eat all the wrong foods; I must be very careful not to put on too much weight.
I’ve just logged in to see there’s an email from Liam:
‘Darling,
I’ve been so busy at work and had to wait until the end of the day to send you an email to say that I love you more than life itself. I’m so sorry not to be able to speak to you in the mornings now, but I know Patty would make a point of being around if we did.
I think Patty might have been reading our emails while I’ve been at work. I’ve now put a password on the computer so that she can’t access them anymore, but things are quite bad at home at the moment. She’s accusing me of not loving her. All I can say to you is that I did love her once, but I love you more. It’s not something I have any control over. I haven’t said anything to her of my feelings for you because my son is so important to me, and I feel I must stay with Patty for his sake. He needs the constant presence of his daddy who loves him, so that he can develop into a loving, caring human being.
My life is such a mess. I need you like I need to breathe.
L. xxxx’
My arms ached to reach out across the miles and hold him. He was doing right by his son in being there for him, but if his partner was convinced he loved another woman then there was the possibility she could leave and take his son away from him. I didn’t want to be the cause of him losing his son, so I decided not to a
nswer any more of his emails. Amy could still speak to him at weekends, but I thought it might be best if I kept out of the way.
PART 7 – LIAM
CHAPTER 35
He logged in and looked forward to speaking to his daughter. Amy seemed a bright little thing; she was enjoying school and doing well. He scanned his inbox, but there were no emails from Beth. He sighed as he checked again; why was she not answering his messages?
“How long will you be? I thought we were going to take Toby out to the park?” Patty sounded petulant and moody.