MY OTHER LIFE(Christopher Long) The two bedroom terrace house was too small to accommodate the amount of people currently occupying it. Abbey, my fiancée, and I had often discussed moving to a bigger place but it was just wishful thinking. However, the doctor told us several weeks earlier that we were going to be parents. This had galvanised us into action but, after an extensive search, we had to admit that within our budget, which was limited, there was simply nothing available. So for the time being we were not going anywhere. Abbey, who was relentlessly optimistic, said: “Don’t worry Ben, something will come up.” But despite her confidence I had my suspicions that she was secretly as disappointed as I was.

The lounge, dining room and garden were full of men in dinner jackets and women in cocktail dresses. Some stood in groups deep in conversation, while others were wandering around with plates and drinks in their hands. Only the kitchen remained guests free. I stood at the draining board, trying to calm my nerves, looking at the wonderful food that Abbey and her team had prepared : fried brie, sea bass with asparagus, new potatoes and a crème brûlée for dessert. All waiting to be taken outside to the marquee which dominated our front lawn. Sounds of conversations, laughter and a pop party playlist could be heard. I took a deep breath, stopped a server who was carrying a tray of sausage rolls and said. “Let me take that Marco.” The medium sized man who was dressed in a white shirt, dark blue chinos and matching tweed waistcoat, nodded and relinquished his grip. I headed to the lounge. It was so packed I had to ask several guests to mind their backs. Eventually managing to gain access to the medium sized grey carpeted room, I headed straight to a low wooden table on which the hors d’oeuvre had been placed. I put the platter down, removed the cellophane, helped myself to a selection, then found a quiet corner of the room and ate my food. Large groups made me uncomfortable, especially these people whom I didn't know. They were all employees of Red Leaf, the biggest accountancy firm in the country, where I would soon be working.

This dinner party had been planned several weeks earlier by Abbey. We had discussed it while we were watching an episode of our favourite Swedish detective drama. Suddenly she grabbed the remote control, pressed pause and turned to me with a glint in her eye: “Ben, can I talk to you?” I looked at her with a worried expression. She laughed: “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” “Then, why did you pause the series? They are about to discover who the murderer is,” I moaned. “You know how your anxiety levels go through the roof when you are put in a situation where you have to meet new people?” I nodded. “Well, what if I told you your brilliant fiancée has come up with a way of taking all the pressure and worries away.” “How are you going to do that?” I asked. “We should host a dinner party!” she said excitedly. I looked at her: “Abbey, have you seen the size of this place?” “We have a perfectly charming garden and don’t forget that this is what I do!” “Do you have to use every opportunity as a way to promote your event planning business?” “Yes, but seriously, I think it will be very beneficial to you if we invite your future colleagues and their partners for dinner so you can meet them in a relaxed environment before you start the job.” “How are you going to organise it?” “Just leave that to ‘Dinner and Dips Catering’” she replied smiling. When I tried to protest further she said: “Oh please, let me do this for you. It will help, I promise and it would be very good for the visibility of my business,” she added. “Oh, OK, you win, again.” “Thank you,” she said, kissing me and turning the series back on. And that was it. When Abbey was in planning mode there was nothing you could do to stop her.

My thoughts were interrupted by my name being called. A red-haired woman wearing a sparkly green dress came towards me. ”Oh there you are, come on there's somebody I would like you to meet," said Abbey. She put her hand on my back and guided me through the crowd. As we walked she noticed the toast and pâté on my plate: “ Sweetheart, is that for me?” Before I could answer she picked it up and popped it into her mouth. At my disapproving look she asked innocently: “What? I am eating for two now, you know,” she patted her tummy. We stopped in front of three people. “Ben, I would like to introduce you to Eric Winter, the owner and CEO of Red Leaf, his wife Pamela and their daughter Ruby.” Mr Winter was a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a black dinner jacket, white shirt, matching trousers and a bow tie. His wife, a short lady wearing a black evening dress and a red fascinator in her silvery hair, was sipping champagne. Their daughter was a petite woman, who wore a velvety blue evening dress and a diamond necklace. I greeted them all and thanked Mr Winter for the opportunity. “Your fiancée has been praising your virtues for the last ten minutes. If you are as good as she claimed then we will be lucky to have you.” The Winter’s spoke in a refined manner which denoted their social class. After a while, we excused ourselves and went to the kitchen. Abbey checked with her staff that everything was ready then announced: “Dinner is served.” A steady stream of guests left the house and went to the marquee. We followed. It was the first time I had seen the finished interior. Its understated elegance was magnificent. Three rows of wooden tables had been set up covered with white table cloths. A simple floral decoration was in the centre of each. “It is beautiful,” I murmured as we took our seats. She kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hand gently. “Thank you," she whispered, then smiled at our guests: “Welcome to our home, thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy the food.” Abbey’s employees served the brie, poured the wine, warning everybody that the dishes were hot, then retreated silently. For the next few minutes all that could be heard was the sound of cutlery on plates. I nervously waited for the verdict on Abbey’s food which was unanimously declared delicious. Some guests even asked for the recipes. I was delighted for her.

After the last plate had been cleared and the bottles of wine emptied, Pamela raised her glass: “To our gracious hosts! You make such an adorable couple. I would love to hear the story of how you first met.” I looked at Abbey who said: “You tell the story, darling. You’re so good at it.” Their eyes turned towards me. This was the part of any social gathering I disliked the most: being the centre of attention. I was not confident. There was always a voice in my head telling me I could do better and the idea of regaling an audience with an anecdote filled me with dread. However, whether it was the alcohol I consumed, the smiling faces around the tables or the fact that the love of my life was by my side, I was more than happy to tell them how I met Abbey Roberts. “We attended the same university. When I first saw Abbey I thought that she was the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on. But I was too shy to actually talk to her. Eventually I found out through a mutual friend that she worked at ‘No Filter’, the campus café. I went there daily and did my course work at an old rickety wooden table, spending half my allowance on coffee, a beverage I don't even like, just so I had an excuse to have a conversation with her. When I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, to my surprise she said yes.” Abbey added: “He was weird ordering coffee he didn’t even drink. But he was cute, so I thought; why not?” This comment provoked laughter. The evening continued in this laid back atmosphere and by the time I closed the door behind the last guest all the anxiety had drained out of me.

I spent the weekend preparing and when I walked into the Red Leaf office, that Monday morning, I felt confident about my new role. The first couple of weeks passed uneventfully. I joined my colleagues in the canteen every lunch time and managed to get home at a decent hour. But, gradually, the workload increased. I had to work late and I could no longer afford the luxury of lunch breaks. Instead I grabbed sad looking sandwiches from the vending machine which I ate at my desk. When I asked my colleagues for assistance, they shook their heads and replied: “We would like to help you but we are all in the same boat.”

One lunchtime I heard a familiar voice: “A hardworking man like you deserves a proper meal.” I looked up. Ruby Winter stood in front of me. She wore a short sleeve red top, black trousers and held a red handbag. “I am going to lunch and wondered if you would like to join me?” “I would love to, but unfortunately I cannot,” I replied, gesturing at the piles of paper on my desk. “Oh, come on Mr Miller, I really hate dining alone.” Ruby insisted: “It would be my treat as a thank you for the dinner party.” When I remained motionless she turned away and sighed irritably: “Your work can wait, my offer can’t.” I should have refused but, I had to admit, I was hungry and fed up with sandwiches. Taking my coat from the back of my chair I inquired: “Where are we off to?” Turning back towards me Ruby smiled and replied: “I know a charming little place not far from here.”

We walked a few blocks to the ‘Stars and Stripes Diner’. Once inside we avoided staff on roller skates carrying food and drinks balanced expertly on black circular trays, to clientele who sat in booths and at tables situated on one side of the room. Opposite was a stainless steel bar behind which a dark haired barman performed flair bartending. As we searched for an empty table there was a smattering of applause as the barman executed an impressive trick. The walls were decorated with film and Pop Art posters. We sat in a booth at the back. A few minutes later a petite blonde waitress came over, handed us paper menus and launched into a well rehearsed speech: “Welcome to ‘Stars and Stripes Diner’ where we pledge a legend to your taste buds. My name is Tracy, how may I help you today?” Ruby ordered the strawberry milkshake and I got a lemonade with ice. “Coming right up,” she smiled and rolled away. We studied the menu in silence. When the drinks arrived, Ruby sipped her milkshake, watching me intensely. This made me feel uncomfortable but I tried not to let it show. I ordered a steak with chips and bearnaise sauce and Ruby chose a salad with blue cheese dressing. When our meals arrived, Ruby asked me: “How is work, Mr Miller?” “It is ok. The people are really friendly but I am struggling with the work-load.” The honesty with which I answered surprised me, considering I had been hiding the truth of my difficulties from Abbey. With a baby on the way, I thought she had enough to deal with and yet, with this relative stranger, I had been sincere. “I am sorry to hear that. If there is anything I can do to help you out of your predicament. My father showed me the basics which has helped me in my job. I work part time, so I am free most of the days,” she said. “What do you do?” I enquired. “I am a curator at a local gallery. It is fascinating. Have you ever been to an art gallery, Mr Miller?” I shook my head: “My fiancée doesn’t really like art.” She rolled her eyes: “Maybe we can go to an exhibition together sometime.” After a few minutes of silence during which I finished my meal and Ruby picked at hers, she asked: “Are you looking forward to becoming a father?” “I think so, it is not as if they give you a manual telling you how to look after your first child. What if I am not good at it?” She leaned forward and replied softly: “I think you’ll make a brilliant father.” I smiled and looked at my watch: “It is late. I must get back to work. Thank you for lunch, Ms. Winter.” “Please, call me Ruby. May I call you Ben?” I nodded. We said our goodbyes and I left.

As I walked back, with a full stomach, I thought about Ruby’s offer for assistance. While I wanted to accept, I also worried how it would appear to my co-workers if I did. I would become part of the office gossip. Added to this was the uneasy feeling I had in her presence. However, by the time I reached the revolving doors of Red Leaf I realised that another emotion had surfaced during lunch: flattery.

I didn’t see Ruby for a few days, but the next time she asked me to accompany her I accepted without hesitation. Soon our lunches became regular occurrences and, before I realised what was happening, I fell in love. I accepted Ruby’s offer and with her help and guidance I became one of Red Leaf’s top employees.

Our social interactions were restricted to lunches and the occasional afternoon spent at the local arthouse cinema. However, on the odd weekends when Abbey was away visiting her university friends or her mother, I was invited into society. There I discovered a world of art, culture, horse racing, photography and magnificent literature. We ate in exclusive restaurants, savouring exquisite foods and drinking champagne. We mostly dine alone but on occasion Ruby's friends, who I found obnoxious, would join us. These gatherings extended late into the night and afterwards we were invariably asked whether we would like to stay the night at one of their houses. I was hesitant but Ruby always insisted it was rude to refuse such gracious invitations. I felt out of place in such opulent surroundings: massive rooms, expensive paintings on every wall, chandeliers, great sweeping staircases which led to countless luxurious bedrooms and libraries filled from floor to ceiling with books, both classic and contemporary, some of which Ruby encouraged me to read.

Initially it was so overwhelming that I could not wait to leave and pick Abbey up from the station. However, as time passed, I grew accustomed, even found myself warming to Ruby's friends and became reluctant to leave. On the journey home Abbey told me excitedly about her weekend and asked what I had done. I lied, at first feeling guilty, but before long I felt comfortable in my deceit. If Abbey had suspicions she never voiced them.

I lived a double life for months, each required me to play a distinct role. In one I was the loyal partner and a father to be. In the other I was the lover of a younger woman, living a life of unburdened luxury, free from responsibility. It was perfect until one night the smallest crack appeared. Ruby and I were walking by the river when she said: “I told my father I was seeing someone. I thought he would be happy but he got really angry and shouted that a woman of my age should concentrate on her career and not be distracted by such things. He gave me an ultimatum. Either I finish with this person or he will stop my allowance.” She turned and smiled weakly at my concerned expression and continued: “Oh, don't worry. My father never carries out his threats. He is quick tempered but always forgives. But I think it's best that he believes that I did as he asked. So, I have booked myself on a course at the Francesca Bianchi Institute of Fine Art, in Venice. I've heard a rumour that Ms Bianchi will be giving a series of lectures herself.” “When are you leaving?” “In a few days. I handed my notice at the gallery as I will be away for one year,” she replied. I felt as if I had been punched. “I was thinking that you could join me after a few days.” I shook my head sadly: “I can't, you know I can't. The baby is due soon and I have responsibilities.” “Oh! Now you remember you have a family! Maybe you should have thought about your commitments before becoming my lover,” she shouted, her voice echoing in the still night air: “Well, if you like being with your Abbey so much then go back to her.” She stormed off without another word. I watched Ruby go, her high heels clicking on the tarmac and as she receded into the night all the colour drained out of my world.

Time passed painfully slowly. I tried to be happy and get on with life for the sake of those around me but I felt empty. Even the birth of our daughter Lucy barely alleviated my deep melancholy. Things I used to enjoy no longer thrilled me. Food prepared lovingly by Abbey, that I once thought creative and bursting with flavour, was bland compared to the magnificent cuisine Ruby had introduced me to. I thought I was destined to live in this state of numbness forever. Then I received a message.

It was a Saturday afternoon and we were getting ready to take Lucy to her baby and toddler group. I was standing in front of the bedroom mirror contemplating whether I should change my outfit, a stripy blue shirt and dark jeans, when my phone buzzed. I looked down and my heartbeat quickened: Ruby. My hand trembled slightly with anticipation as I read its content: “Ben, I really need to see you. Please come to ‘Stars and Strikes Diner’.” I walked out of the bedroom, descended the stairs trying to keep calm and told Abbey that I wouldn't be able to come to the ‘Little Explorers’ group today. “Why not? You know how much Lucy loves it when you are there.” “I know but something comes up at work.” “At the weekend?” she enquired. “I would get out of it if I could but it is mandatory to attend. I'm sorry.” “It's funny, this is the most enthusiastic I've seen you in a long time,” she replied. I ignored her. “I won’t be late,” I said as I closed the front door behind me.

When I arrived Ruby was sitting at a table drinking hot chocolate. My feeling of elation at seeing her turned to worry. Her face was puffy. She had been crying. I approached the table. When she saw me she smiled, running into my arms. “Thank you for coming. Can you ever forgive me? I have been so beastly to you.” “Of course,” I said. “Tell me what's wrong.” “I never thought he would actually do it…” “Who did what?” “My father. He stopped my allowance while I was away. I drained my accounts and my credit cards have been blocked. I don't have a penny. I need to ask him for everything, like a common beggar. Do you know how humiliating that is?” I shook my head. “I need to be financially independent. I can't live like this.” She burst into tears. I guided her back to her seat and handed her a serviette. She blew her nose and dried her eyes. “I'm such a mess, Ben. You're so sweet for coming.” “Of course, anything for you. How can I help?” Her expression changed and her eyes sparkled as she answered: “I want my money back.” She slid a folded white piece of paper across to me. “What is this?” I asked. “The account number and password of Red Leaf, the answers to security questions and the amount I want you to transfer to my account." “You are asking me to commit fraud.” “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. My father is a very wealthy man, he won't even notice if a small amount goes missing and then we can carry on exactly where we left off. Don't you want that, sweety?” “I do, more than anything.” “Then what's the problem?” “What if I get caught?” “You won't and I assure you that this will be a one off.”

It turned out that Ruby’s assurance was a lie. Each month I would transfer greater sums into her bank account. My eagerness to please her blinded me to the crime I was committing. To my surprise no alarms or red flags were raised, which made me feel invincible. For months I managed to keep my two lives separated. However, catastrophe was just around the corner.

Ruby and I had been at the opera watching Madame Butterfly and were sitting in a restaurant opposite the venue. We had just ordered when she said: “Darling, I saw a simply charming portrait today, which would look absolutely divine in my living room. But imagine my embarrassment when I realised I didn’t have the money to pay for it. I managed to put down a deposit and the gallerist would hold it for me till the end of the week. Be a dear, and transfer the money.” She slid the now familiar folded piece of paper over to me. I glanced at the amount and my eyes went wide: “No, this is too much,” I whispered. She sneered at me. “That’s never stopped you before,” she said between gritted teeth. “I got the feeling that one of these days my luck will run out,” I answered. “Look Ben, you either do this for me or I will tell Abbey where you have been spending your weekends and with whom.” “You wouldn’t,” I replied. “Try me.” Then her voice softened: “The money is more than enough to enable us to go far away from here and start a family of our own. We can go anywhere you want.” “Even Barbados? I always wanted to go there,” I asked wistfully. “If that's what you want, baby…” She leaned forward, took my hand and kissed it lightly. When I left the restaurant I had made up my mind to transfer the money and leave with Ruby, but before that I owed Abbey an explanation.

I twisted the front door knob and went inside our house. Abbey was in the lounge, sitting on the sofa reading. She looked up at me, stretched and yawned, placing the book face down next to her. “Where have you been? I tried calling you. “I need to talk to you. It’s urgent,” I said. “What happened?” she asked with concern in her voice. I confessed everything. Abbey waited in silence until I had finished, then crossing the room, she opened a drawer of the sideboard and took out art gallery ticket stubs. “I was doing the laundry ages ago and found these when I was checking your pockets.” Before I could reply she hit my chest repeatedly with her fists. “How could you?” she screamed. “How could you? You stupid man! You idiot! I knew but I didn't want to believe it and didn't confront you because I thought you would end this foolishness and come back to me for the sake of our child.” While Abbey spoke she balled up the ticket stubs in her hand. “I have one question for you, Ben Miller. Why? Am I not good enough?” I opened my mouth to answer but she held up a hand for silence: “ Ruby is offering you a life that we, your family, could never give you. You are not part of her life and guess what? You don't belong in ours anymore. I'm taking Lucy and going to stay with my mother. If you try to follow me or contact me, I will call the police. Do you understand?” Her eyes filled with tears, Abbey wiped them away angrily, removed the engagement ring and threw it on the floor. “Those voices in your head telling you are inadequate, have you ever thought they might be right?” With these parting words she walked out the room slamming the door.

Abbey’s words hurt me more than a thousand bee stings. At that moment I realised I had made a terrible mistake. I rushed to the front door hoping to change her mind but all I saw was our car driving away. My legs gave out beneath me. I put my head in my hands and howled in anguish. When I finally stopped, dawn was breaking over the horizon turning the sky pink. Exhausted, I dragged myself upstairs, laid on the bed and tried to sleep. I couldn’t. The voices in my head were louder than ever. Eventually I slept. However, my dream quickly descended into a nightmare. I was fishing in a small wooden boat which was gently rocking with the current. Suddenly the sky grew dark and the water became turbulent. An enormous wave crushed against the side of my boat capsizing it. I tried to swim, but the current dragged me under. I was drowning.

I woke up gasping for air. Sunlight streamed through the window. I got up and went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, catching sight of my reflection. I looked awful. I was pale with dark circles under my red eyes. I was in agony. Abbey and Lucy were gone and it was all my fault. I made some breakfast, but I didn’t really feel like eating so I just pushed my scrambled eggs around the plate. There must be something I could do to undo this and make everything go back to the way it was. A face flashed in my mind: Ruby Winter. If it wasn’t for her, I would be happy and have a family. My mind clouded and I became consumed by revenge. I checked my phone, it was Monday. I had spent the entire weekend feeling sorry for myself. I have been manipulated for so long and Ruby was the puppet master. It was time to cut the strings.

I went to work as usual, handed in my resignation effective immediately, transferred the money to Ruby’s account and then I went home. I called my lover and asked her to come over. She was surprised but when I told her that Abbey was away for the week and the house would be ours, she agreed. Lastly, I phoned the police and confessed everything. When Ruby arrived she exclaimed: “You look awful, darling. What happened?” “I have not been sleeping recently, I was too excited to tell you.” “Tell me what?” she asked. “I did it. I left Abbey and transferred the money you asked for. We can finally be together. I just need to pack.” She smiled and kissed me: “Thank you, baby.” Ruby took out her phone and checked her account. She turned pale. “What is it?” I enquired. “This is too much, I gave you a specific amount. You should have stuck to it. This is sure to raise red flags.” I looked bewildered: “But I did it for us! We are free and can go anywhere.” She started laughing hysterically. “Do you really think I would leave with you? You repulse me. I'm sorry to break it to you, darling, but it was all pretend. I have to admit I was drawn to you at first, but only in the way a scientist is to a new species of insect. I was amazed how easy you were to manipulate. All I had to do was give you a glimpse at a better life and you committed a crime for me. Do you really think my father even cares who I am seeing? You were like a lost puppy when I left for Italy. My father doesn’t employ criminals in his company, Ben. He values the principles of honesty and integrity above all else. When I tell him what you have done, you will be fired and go to prison.”

As if on cue, sirens and slamming doors could be heard from outside. Then we heard a loud persistent knocking on the front door. When I opened, uniformed police officers entered. Ruby smiled but it faded when we were read our rights. I took my phone out of my pocket, pressed stop on the recording and winked at Ruby: “Got you, baby,” I said before we were both handcuffed. Ruby protested loudly: “Do you know who my father is? He will never let me go to prison. I'm innocent! You are making a huge mistake. I'm the victim, it was all Ben Miller's idea.” The police took no notice. Few weeks later, we were both sentenced.

When I was incarcerated, I harboured a deep resentment primarily towards the woman who had destroyed my life, but also at myself for not being strong enough to resist her charms. However, as time passed, my attitude toward Ruby changed. I gradually realised that our years spent together were not a total waste. She had introduced me to and fostered in me a love of literature. The prison had an extensive library which I took full advantage of, it became my refuge. I selected books and within their pages mentally travelled far from the confines of my cell drinking tea with the Bennett sisters, setting sail in search of treasure with Jim Hawkins or even being part of an uprising on Mars. The authors of these stories so inspired me that I decided to write some of my own. With every word I wrote and draft I completed, I felt my self esteem increasing and the negative voices in my head, which had plagued me all my life, grew quieter. One day they fell silent and never returned. When I was released, four years later, I hardly recognized myself. I was confident, driven, focused and I had written a collection of ten short stories entitled ‘On The Black Sea’, which I was hoping to get published.

Today, I am standing at the entrance of a local park, hoping that the text I sent a few days ago would have the desired effect. My eyes scan the park, nothing. I am beginning to lose hope when, suddenly, I see a red haired woman watching a child play in the grass. My heart beats accelerate. I can't believe she came, after everything I put her through. I take a deep breath and walk towards her. When Abbey sees me she waves: “Hi Ben, how are you?” We hug briefly, it feels so good. “I am fine, thanks for coming. I didn't think you would.” “I was not going to but then I thought Lucy needs her father and, maybe somewhere deep down, I need you too.” “Does this mean I am forgiven?” “I don't know, I haven’t decided yet. You really hurt me.” “I was an idiot, a selfish fool and I took you for granted. I'm sorry, so sorry and know that I have no right to expect anything from you.” “What do you want Ben?” she interrupts abruptly. “To put the past behind us and find a way to move forward.” “How do you propose we do that?” I go silent for a while, eventually offering my hand for Abbey to shake: “Hi, my name is Ben Miller.” She doesn’t respond, standing with her hands on her hips and continues watching Lucy who is pulling up daisies and singing softly to herself. The silence between us makes me feel uncomfortable. Then, after what seems like an eternity, Abbey turns slowly towards me offering her hand to shake saying: “Hi Ben Miller, my name is Abbey Roberts.” “It’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” I reply. “Nice to meet you too. What do you do for work?” “I am an author, well at least I hope to be. I also work at the local supermarket.” Abbey raises an eyebrow: “A writer, how interesting. Well good luck, I hope you will let me read the fruit of your labour one day.” “What about you,” I ask. “I run a successful catering company.” “You must be a very good cook.” “I like to think so,” she smiles. Before we can converse further, she walks towards the girl, crouches down and asks: “Honey, would you like to go for a walk.” “Yes please!” replies Lucy clapping her hands in excitement. Abbey gets up, walks a few steps, holds out her hand and says: “Come on then!” The girl drops the daisies, runs to her mother. They walk towards me. “This little cutie pie is Lucy. Sweetie, I would like you to meet Ben, a friend of mine. He has been away travelling for a long time but now he is back for good, I hope.” Lucy waves at me, I wave back and say: “It is very nice to meet you, Lucy, last time I saw you you looked like a doll.” She giggles. “Would you like to join us for a stroll?” “Yes, Abbey, I would like that“.

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