kce

CHAPTER
2
My nine-year-old daughter, Katrina, sat in the place where her father
used to
sit. I suddenly became aware of this, and I didn’t know
why it had
struck me. Then
it came to me: her
future might have
been the
same as
my
past if her Dad had stayed with us. In that moment, I realised thatt the
relationship between Andrew and
I had probably ended at just the right
time. Like her brothers, Katrina deserved a fresh start, in a home without
fighting, without the madness that had characterised the last days of
my
marriage to her father.
For about a year after Andrew left, the kids had a hard time of it.
They were not being destructive, but things, , ‘accidents’, just happened,
and
without their father’s presence they often adopted his role, reminding
me
of my obligations as a wife and mother. I imagine that, as bad as things
were, he still had his place in their
scheme of things. . Like losing an arm
or
a leg, I suppose you adjust and sometime, years later,
you might
occasionally forget. But there is inevitably a clumsy period, an
uncomfortable time in which things are not yet coordinated
and nothing
runs smoothly.
It had all been worth it, however. The peace, security
of
love, and trust that had developed
between the four of us was priceless.
‘Brian, come to the table . . .’
‘In a second, Mum. I’m showing Wendy something. Wendy! Look at
this!’
Brian was doing splits and cartwheelss in the dining room. No sooner
had the
kids been introduced to our visitor than they began
showing
off
their talents and
skills. I didn’t know wheree Brian got it from, or who had
been teaching him, but he
could do things you wouldn’t believe. At seven,
he didn’t seem to know what gravity was. . He jumped and landed in
the