My Policeman

by Bethan Roberts

Sylvie was already disappointed in her daughter.

I’d let Tom go, I told myself. I’d let him. And now I’d have to live with it.

“Men have such freedom. Even married ones.”

“Really, Marion. You have to open your eyes. You’re too bright not to. It’s such a waste.”

once lights are out, no other prisoner will ask you to deny your pain.

brought a drowned man back to life—and I said, “We should live here.” After just two days of the possibilities of Venice, I said, “We should live here.” And Tom’s answer was, “We should fly to the moon.” But he was smiling.

And suddenly her voice was not her own.

Not once did he say, Because I’m a married man.

“Oh, Marion. Tom’s my brother. I’ve always known, haven’t I? Although I hoped he’d changed, of course.

“You kept my little secret. Now I’ll keep yours.”

One with threadbare, stained tea towels.

“Patrick will never tell them about you. And I will never leave you.”

They are so obviously mismatched that I had to smile when I saw them together. I’ve always remembered that particular sentence. Your casual tone is what hurts the most. That, and the fact that you were right.

He’d gone, you see, from the house, and all that was left were these traces of him.

I did not want to lie to my husband’s back. I wanted to lie to his face.