Posted on Wednesday, 12 December 2007

Vanessa Willoughby (nee Gray), thought she had a comfortable and secure life. She had a dashingly handsome husband, a grand fortune thanks to her father, and too many friends and admirers to count. That was until that infamous day.

One Wednesday she walked into the billiard room to find John practising darts, rather viciously she thought.

“Why darling, whoever is your target?” she squealed.

“Oh no one dear,” her husband replied.

Vanessa was satisfied, and turned to leave the room. She had just shut the door when John cried “Damn you, Brandon!” and hit a bull’s eye. His wife, of course, heard nothing.

Later that night, Vanessa woke with a start. She did not quite register why at first. Then she heard a second roar of thunder, and understood. She sighed, and tried to go back to sleep. Then she heard her husband murmur. The words were too muffled and indistinct for her to understand their meaning. Then, as she became accustomed to his voice, she caught the words “Marianne… Marianne…” Then John rolled over and began to snore.

Vanessa sat up. What should she do? She had thought John’s attachment to Marianne Brandon (nee Dashwood) long since gone, it was seven years since John had married her; surely he now loved his wife far more than a temporary fling? But apparently not. Divorce was out of the question. Separation, although it might seem ideal, would invite far too many questions. Vanessa sighed again, and lay back down. But she could not sleep. So, instead, she closed her eyes and feigned rest. She heard the birds sing, and then her husband get up.

“Oh, how my heart aches!” cried Willoughby. “My wife is beautiful, but conventionally dull when compared to the spirit of Marianne”.

Clearly John still thought she was asleep. But his remark saddened her to her very heart, and a single tear trickled down her chin into the pillow.

The End