The day began as a normal spring day. Clear motionless skies. A solitary cloud trapped by the surrounding hills faded under the sun’s scrutiny. Flowers sprouted from the earth amid luxurious banks of verdant grass. The air hung with the scent of new life.

I performed the school run up the steepening hill. Despite the sun, my knuckles reddened as I forced the buggy up the incline to the summit. Faint whispers of breath hung close to my skin.

The usual faces were out, the ‘Polylop’ lady who helped to cross the road, my eldest son’s mispronunciation is an enduring treasure I keep in my imaginary happy box. People rush by as I lean into the gradient, straining at every step. The sound of babbling chatter grew louder as we approached the school gates. Mums with children clinging to their legs, leaned in to conspire and gossip. Others wove through cars parked at awkward angles, obstructing the pavement, forcing mothers and children out into the open road.

The playground was, as it always was, buzzing with giggles and delighted squeals. A voice in one corner, we all knew who, admonished a child in shrill tones between drags on a cigarette. Rosy-cheeked children chase through the forest of legs wrapped in slacks and jogging bottoms. Gossip intensified as the bell drew near, opinions shared through squinted half-glances and tight-lipped smiles.

I risk closing my eyes in the comforting fold of the green leather armchair, seeing nothing except darkness …

The bell rings. Children were kissed goodbye in haste, and vanish through the portal into the corridors of learning. I nod and wave at lingering mums and the one single dad. Time to seek solitude, a place where no one sees you cry.

Meltdowns were common, striking without provocation. Were they a punishment for happy thoughts? Time loses all meaning in a whirring mind. Living with someone lost in post-natal depression was like sharing your life with random strangers who all look like the one you love. How do you respond to the anger, to the tears, when you were not seen as a person, more an obstacle to be overcome?

The day greyed by and the reverse school run was on. I hefted the buggy out the door and began the ascent.

The children were happy, bordering on insane. 

My only reprieve was house group, a church thing where a few of us gathered together for a social time, perhaps some prayer to keep hope alive. By seven o’clock, the children were all in bed pretending to sleep.

I risk closing my eyes in the comforting fold of the green leather armchair, seeing nothing except darkness, the kind enveloped in terror. Too scared to open my eyes, too scared not too. When I did, she was there, beautiful as ever, just absent on the inside.

‘You going?’

‘Yeah.’ I force the word out, it sounds nothing like me. Taking the proffered coat, I checked my pockets for keys and drifted across town

In truth, I remember nothing beyond the clunk of the door closing behind me and reopening it hours later.

The house was dark. A sick green light glowed from the oven clock, there were no other signs of life. I turned on the lounge light.

‘Hey, I’m back.’ Hooking my coat on a peg by the door, I went in search of company.

One bedroom was empty, the second was too, and the third. For some forsaken reason, I searched the garden and the street out front. Had there been an accident? Had she taken the kids to the hospital with her? Fishing out my mobile phone, I called my wife for an update.

‘Where are you? What’s happened?’ I took an expectant breath.

‘Birmingham.’

Processing; that was ninety miles away!

‘Birmingham?’Still processing, I rubbed my fingers across my furrowed brow.

‘I’ve taken the kids, I’m leaving you.’ Ends. The line went dead.

Hollow, I was hollow. I was desperate to speak. I opened my mouth and howled out the pain. All I could think was ‘God, forgive me for breaking her’.

Morning was awful. Everything was empty; myself, the sky, life. Empty. All thoughts ended at why? There had been no indication this was coming, was there? Had I missed it? What clues did I not see? Sure, there was anger, abusive threats, and the time she called the police to remove me from the house. Instead, she left with three small children under six years old in the dead of night.

I went through the house, sifting memories in each room in turn, attempting to put things in order. Tidying toys, folding tiny clothes. I prepared the school uniforms, dusted and hoovered throughout. Nothing could fill the space left inside. There was no money, she had taken that too. I hoped they were all safe, and she got to wherever she needed to be. 

I was back on the sofa, a mug of cold tea clasped in my hands, it ceased warming me long ago. The sky faded until the evening bruised it purple. I waited for the night to bring me comfort.