What she might be thinking.

February 2003

That night I wrote, ‘I am much happier now that we have sorted things out, and that you will be able to get enough sleep. I really don’t want to be the cause of you being ill. I hope you know that’

The following evening, just as we were saying goodbye, after a fairly ordinary conversation, in which I tried to put a just a small hint of unhappiness into my voice. I said ‘I can’t do it now, but I have something I need to talk to you about. I felt quite upset about it’

‘We can talk now honey, its ok’
‘No, I have a meeting soon, and you will be tired’
‘Not that tired, it is ok’
‘But I do have a meeting’
‘Honey!’
‘Don’t worry babe, we will talk tomorrow’

It was after four, and I had little motivation to do any work, so I left early and drove home.

The next day, I was due to travel north. My flight was at 8.20am. I would stay at the usual hotel, a very grand old country house, in the middle of the Yorkshire countryside. It was always a restful evening.

I called Maggie in the afternoon, deliberately avoiding any mention of the subject I had alluded to the night before. I told Maggie all about the hotel, saying that she must come and stay when she eventually came to the UK.

‘Do you want me to come?’ she asked
‘Of course’ I said ‘another month and the weather will start to improve’
‘Tell me honey, is there any reason why you don’t want me to come to UK?’
‘No. Like what?’
‘Nothing. I just wanted to ask you’
‘Something on your mind?’ I asked.
‘No. But no harm to ask, right?’
‘I suppose’

I spent the evening wondering what she might be thinking.