Chapter 1: Purgatory commences

It was six-thirty when I got back home. A cup of tea was my first priority then on with the paperwork. Another long day, and I wasn't finished yet. With the steaming mug of tea beside me I looked at the orders I had taken, about an hour I reckoned to get them all written and then the daily report, after that I could think about something to eat. I had picked up the post when I came in without looking at it, so it was getting on for eight-thirty after I had bolted down a micro-waved Curry, that I checked what post was there. You know you can tell what they are without even opening them. If they are addressed to 'the occupier' throw them in the bin, if the envelope says that you have six chances to win a quarter of a million pounds, throw them in the bin. Double glazing ... bin, money lenders ... bin, life insurance ... bin. Then came one with my name and address neatly printed and showing through the window. I turned it over and sure enough there was the name of the Solicitor. The hurried curry was now attempting to hurry back up. I knew this would not be good news. With a very uncomfortable stomach and a heavy sigh I opened it. It was there in neatly typed legal jargon, and a certificate attached to the back. I was divorced, dumped! And I still didn't know why. Irreconcilable differences. What did that mean? How could they be irreconcilable if I didn't know what the differences were in order to reconcile them? If she had talked to me then whatever it was, at least I would have a chance to change. But no. She had just walked out of my life without a word.

Jas and I had been married for three years. Jas (that was Jasmine, her mother had been a bit of a wild child in the sixties, and got into Eastern culture, you know, burning Joss sticks and hanging wind chimes in the house) was everything I could ask for in a wife. She wasn't classically beautiful, but had an open happy face, a pretty girl next door look. She was slim, ash-blonde, with a figure that looked good in Jeans, or a classy dress or anything in between, but especially when she had nothing on. Jas was a twenty-four year old walking dream. The most outstanding thing about her was her smile. It was a rival for Julia Robert's smile and could light up a room. When I saw her smile for the first time it was a done deal for me. Now I know all this was superficial, but the truth was that although her looks got to me, it was her personality that kept me. She was intelligent, I had to admit more than me, and had all that female savvy. She could argue her case, and make me think black was white, then when I was wilting under the weight of her case, she would smile that smile and tell me she was winding me up. She loved to do that, and I fell into her trap every time. Jas knew that but she was never cruel. Life together was simply great. We both worked and shared the cooking, household stuff and tending our little garden. There was always laughter. Our nights together were paradise, Jas was always eager to make love and was very uninhibited when we did, being very inventive at times. Having her in my bed was paradise. My work colleagues got pissed off with me as I wore a twenty-four hour smile. We had been married for three years when we starting to talk about having a baby. Jas was so excited and looked forward to being pregnant, which makes what happened so extraordinary.

I had been up to Stoke on Trent with my job. I had entertained a customer to Lunch and as misfortune would have it my car broke down late that afternoon. The Ford dealer could not get me on the road again until the next morning. I phoned Jas and told her what had happened, and that I would get myself a hotel room for the night. She seemed fine about it. My boss understood when I phoned him and agreed that the hotel account would be paid with my expenses.

I did get my car back about eleven in the morning and got on the road again, made some calls and eventually got home about five in the afternoon. The house was empty. This was not something to worry about, Jas often would not shop until late, usually after she had left work. By six-thirty I was getting worried. If she was doing something after work she would have called me, so I would not expect her home at the usual time, I checked my mobile just in case I had missed her call. No, no missed calls, no messages, no text. I called her mobile. "This number is no longer in service." said the automatic message. What? It had been yesterday when I called Jas. I called her parents. No they hadn't seen her or heard from her. I did the usual things, called Hospitals, best friends. Nobody would be at her work place so no point in calling there. No-one had seen her, nor spoken to her, although in the case of best friends they would of course have lied for her. I am sure mine would do the same for me. Hell, I would have lied for her if she asked me! I don't know what made me do it, but I went upstairs to our bedroom. It was as neat and tidy as Jas always kept it. I decided to hang up my Jacket which I had simply slung on the bed when I got home. I opened the wardrobe door and took a step back shocked to the core as rows of empty hangers mocked me, hanging beside the few that supported my clothes. The drawers told the same story, everything of hers had gone. I didn't need to check the bathroom, I knew it would be the same. I sat on the bed, numbly, and from the corner of my eye caught a glint of something. I turned my head to look at the dressing table. Two rings, a plain gold band and the silver one with the solitaire diamond were laying on the glass top. Jas's rings, the rings I had given her. Could there be any other explanation but one. Jas considered our marriage was over and had left me!

It was no solace that other men had gone through this, I just didn't care. What had happened to me was the most shattering experience. I cried, damn great sobs as tears poured down my face. I couldn't give a toss about third world starvation, nor about the fighting in Afghanistan at that moment, they were nothing compared with the pain I was suffering. I don't know how long I sat there on that bed. My tears stopped eventually, but I did nothing. Eventually, gradually, l subsided sideways, curling up into a foetal position with my head on Jas's pillow and slept, badly.

I kept waking through the night, every creak of the house would be interpreted by my mind as Jas trying her key in the lock. I would rush downstairs to welcome her back, only to be disappointed. I would climb the stairs slowly like an old man, with tears yet again staining my cheeks, and would slump back on the bed. Morning light slowly defined the window and wakened me, but could not inspire me to move. I hadn't reacted to the creaks for some time, I couldn't, the disappointment was too much. Inside I was empty, there were no priorities in my life anymore, no goals to achieve, no activities to pursue, no work to earn the money. Everything I had done was for Jas, and if there was no Jas, then there was little point. I slept again.

The ringing of the phone woke me in the morning. I stumbled my way slowly downstairs and answered the persistent ringing. It was my Sales Manager.

"Tim! What's the problem? You missed an appointment yesterday, and there has been no message from you. Not like you at all. What's going on? Are you ill?" It took me some time to get my head straight. An appointment? Yesterday? Gradually my mind cleared. I must have slept through twenty four hours!