13- A Simple Affair

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My mother suffered from a progressive type of mental illness, Paranoid Schizophrenia, she had the whole works and sometimes voices spoke to her, telling her what to do.

It didn't matter if you did everything to show her that the world was not as she saw it, my mother only saw one reality, the one she saw through her own eyes that was different to everybody else. This had serious repercussions for all of us around her.

I believe my father loved my mother. He held out longer than most would in the circumstances presented to him. He believed in marriage for life due to his upbringing and he was unsure of what to do when he was faced with the scenarios my mother presented.

One of our neighbours was some sort of policeman. He worked long hours and was rarely home. He was happily married with two children I socialised with.

The husband was the only man down our street who was around my parents' ages, so maybe that was why my mother's fixation fell on him. I guess we will never know. Or maybe his exact posting, which was a little hush hush, sounded exciting to her?

If I had witnessed them speaking socially more than twice, I would be surprised. He was absolutely devoted to his wife and family but this did not stop my mother believing he was in love with her. She wrote love letters, that made little sense and posted them through their letterbox. His wife jumped every time the letterbox slammed shut, as she scrambled to pick up the latest ramblings before her children did.

Day in, day out, the letters kept appearing on the neighbours door mat.

No matter what we told her,she was convinced he had a gun ready to protect her and that they would run away together.

The husband turned up one day to speak to my father, his hair in disarray. His wife was in a terrible state but believed him when declared his innocence.

My father, suggested they went somewhere quiet to talk and they both waked down to the garden shed and sat for a while in solidarity of their difficult situations. A hour or so later, I could smell the drink on them as they walked out the house, both eyes dark with sullen expressions.

My father told my mother the doctor was on his way. She turned and looked at us both. She reminded me of that certain smile, in the film The Shining. You know the one; the one that unnerves and sends shivers down your spine.

My mother went upstairs and got herself dressed. She hadn't washed for days. She floated downstairs like a different person. Groomed, clean and eyes clear and welcoming.

The doctor appeared. She made him a cup of tea, winked at my father and shut the door in our faces.

Ten minutes later the door opened. The doctor looked annoyed at my Dad. "Please don't call me out again to see your wife, unless there is a good reason and it's obvious to see she's fine," he said gruffly, muttering as he walked out.   My mother in certain guises was able to manipulate anyone, even a trained professional for a limited time.

We looked dumbstruck. Who was this woman before us.

My mother turned jubilant towards us, that strange smile reappearing. "Don't fuck with me. You won't win," she said, slamming the door again in our faces and barricading the lounge door. with the sofa single handedly. When my mother was fired up, she seemed to have the strength of an ox.

Who would believe us if we told them what had just occurred. We found it hard to believe ourselves. It was as if someone had turned on a switch and she transformed into a different person.

I followed my father down to the shed at the end of the garden. He poured us both out a glass of wine. We chinked the glasses together in a pact.

We were unsure of what would happen next or what to do.

The notes appeared at the neighbours with increased vigour.   Their house went up for sale and they moved away. The good days grew further between the bad days.

We were between a rock and a hard place, that was for sure.  

If you liked this chapter please do vote (please hit the star) and if you have time to comment that would mean so much to me, as your feedback inspires me and I thrive on feedback.

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Many thanks, Kimberley S B Lieb

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