of some physical contact after our years of famine. It was then I sensed someone else in the room. I looked over to the doorway and saw Harry standing there, staring at us both. I hadn’t realised the time and he’d returned home from work for his dinner. I can’t describe to you the look on his face . . . of disgust, hurt, devastation. Before I had a chance to say anything, he’d left. I can’t remember Bernie leaving, just my own scramble to get dressed and go after Harry and beg his forgiveness, make him understand why I’d ended up with Bernie like I had.
‘He was waiting for me downstairs. The back door was open, my coat and handbag were in his hand which he thrust at me. His eyes were lifeless when he said to me that I’d done the worst thing I could have in God’s eyes, committed adultery, and that my actions could be responsible for him being denied his own redemption and the chance to make amends to our son and unborn child, when the time came for him to be reunited with them in heaven. I lost my temper then, shouted at him that I was still alive and had needs that he seemed to have forgotten about in his misguided quest to ensure his own admission through the pearly gates. I asked him how God would view his breaking his marriage vows to love and cherish me, which was what he should be doing instead of turning his back on me.
‘He told me how selfish I was being, thinking purely of myself when a man’s wife, of all people, should be the one to cast her own needs aside in her duty to support her husband.
‘My anger really erupted when he said that. I’d stood by him and not complained once in ten years since he’d joined the church. I told him that this was the damned vicar talking, not him. That man had brainwashed him into thinking as he was, at a time when he knew Harry to be vulnerable. In my eyes he was nothing more than a home-wrecker. Well, I never got any further as Harry manhandled me out of the house then, telling me he wouldn’t have that saint of a man spoken about so disgustingly, and I was never to darken his door again. He locked it after me.
‘I decided it was best I give him some time to calm down before I tried to talk to him again and I went and sat in the park for a couple of hours. The door was still locked and bolted when I went back, so I knocked. It wasn’t Harry who opened it but the vicar. I knew he hadn’t any time for me once I’d refused to join his church. I swear there was triumph in his eyes when he told me that I had no place in this house any more after what I’d done, and the church was looking after its disciple in his great sorrow. That vile man then shut the door of my own home in my face.
‘She’s very old-fashioned and set in her ways is my mother. One of her favourite sayings is, “You’ve made your bed, now lie on it.” I knew she’d hit the roof if I went round to tell her what had gone off and ask her to let me stay there until I could sort things out with Harry, which I still felt I could do once he’d had time to think for himself when that vicar wasn’t poisoning his mind against me, so it was my eldest sister I went to see first. I thought I’d get her as my ally, she’d then get my younger sister on board, and we’d tackle Mother together. I’ve always got on with both my sisters and knew they must have wondered why I hadn’t turned up to meet them in town as usual that afternoon. They should both be back home by now, I thought. I couldn’t believe it when I walked into my elder sister’s house and there they were, the three of them, Mother and my two sisters, having a big pow-wow. That devil of a vicar had wasted no time and been to see my mother with the whole sordid story, even though she didn’t belong to his congregation.
‘All three of them looked at me like I was something they would scrape off their shoes when