The h2g2 Serial
Created | Updated Jun 21, 2003
A Devil You Know
Written by Joseph Geldart
SCENE 2 (Prison cell)
TOM is dancing with himself around the cell
TOM
I still love my wife. I still dream about her soft face, her golden hair, her crystal blue eyes with indigo flecks. It was the eyes which captivated me most at first. They seemed to look straight into my soul, read me and knew who I was. I first met her at a party thrown by some mutual friends. We were listening to some convoluted anecdote being told by someone so drunk they could hardly see, let alone tell a complicated tale. Despite that everyone was captivated and the poor, sodden man was using his time in the limelight to great effect. Even then I had a view from outside the System and was amused by the way they were listening. I looked up at that point into the most intelligent eyes I have ever seen. A shock went through me as she smiled, such a warm beautiful smile! I fell for that smile, those beautiful eyes and her rounded features. She was perfect, untouchable, not mine.
TOM smiles to himself
I tried to spend as much time as possible with her, tried to be her in a way. I was the one who noticed she always smiled at some large joke only she knew the punch-line for. It was that which made me nickname her Smiley. The name never really stuck but it was fun for a while. We became known as a double-act, always one knowing what the other was thinking. Glances communicating novels of information. People asked me where she was and vice-versa. I think we were as close as lovers in some ways before we even knew we were in love. I admitted it to myself long before she did. I could see it in her eyes, it was only that which kept me going. Guilty glances over to me which I caught, secret messages and jokes only we knew.
She was beautiful even when embarrassed or angry. She was so much more real than anyone else I knew, so much more true. She hid her feelings though. Buried them as if she were ashamed. Looking back, I would say the fear was one of losing people. She was afraid that the truth would scare people, friends, her family maybe, away. She never felt she was good enough. She had never had a boyfriend in all the time since I'd met her. She secretly wanted me to make the first move. So I did and my reward for doing so was nearly losing her. That was the worst week of my life, worse than the week of my court case, worse than the most evil torture. I withdrew, couldn't cope with not having her near to talk to, to laugh with. I was lost without her.
Even now, so many years later, I feel empty. She isn't here, I can't hold her. I don't have a partner to share with, someone to joke with, a friend to be with. She took a part of me I can never replace. She made me feel human, not a set of conditions, not a collection of academic grades. She made me a person. Up until the end my heart skipped when I saw her. The smell she left on her things made me want to jump for joy. It took almost a year for us to first admit some of our feelings for each other. One of the happiest days of my life.
Our wedding was perfect, a sweet scented day in June. It was warm, but not overly so. Even our usual hayfever, and hers was particularly bad, held off without the use of drugs. That moment, that crystal edged moment, is etched forever in my memory. That moment when we kissed and sealed our vows will never be forgotten.
The reception afterwards had the usual assortments of toasts from friends and family, the usual glut of bad music and worse dancing. We relaxed in each other's company knowing that we were one.
TOM sighs
We stayed in the corner of the dance floor chatting with our friends for a couple of hours. I felt safe and secure, loved and whole. We felt no rush to move, we just unwound until they played our song. It sounds soppy and hopelessly lovesick but this is how it happened to me. This is how it has been preserved in my memory, photographic as it is.
We stood and I led her onto the floor. I pulled her close and I could have sworn that she twinkled as she spun. We held each other as we stepped in perfect rhythm to the music. We knew what the other was going to do before the move was made. We felt each other's heartbeat and we kissed softly, sensuously, perfectly. I was happy, absolutely happy, at last.
The honeymoon was in South Germany. Not the most obvious of places to visit for romance but that is only if you have never been there. The views over mountain valleys are spectacular and awe-inspiring. I used to visit there to write when I ran out of inspiration at home. We stayed in a beautiful hotel in Freiberg overlooking the Münster in the main square. Water ran in channels in the streets, cooling the warm air and catching the light. The sound was soothing and acted to damp the noise of a busy city. What always stuck in my mind about Freiberg was that even with the bustling, it was a peaceful city. The main public transport was the trams which were clean and regular. A perfect place to begin your life with someone.
We made trips around the area in a rented car. We visited places such as Villingan and Konstanz. At one point we even made the trip to Zürich, passports clutched in hand, and spent a night there, enjoying the local 'colour'.
TOM smiles again
A perfect honeymoon for a perfect woman. Even today, in this cell, I think about her. It makes me feel warm and loved. I just wish things could have gone differently.
We were married for such a short time though, such a short time. I still remember the last time I saw her face as the sheet was pulled over her head. It felt wrong, like I wasn't there. That it was a dream I would wake up from. A twisted nightmare. I couldn't do anything but sob and cry her name for three days. I felt torn, I wanted revenge on the b*****d who had done it. I wanted justice! My Smiley, sweet Smiley was gone forever. The man who had run into her with his van caused it! He had run himself off the road as soon as letting her roll off his bonnet, limply like a rag-doll. He crashed into a wall and was in intensive care. I prayed that he would survive so that he could see justice for taking away my future, for killing my hope, my laughter, my smile, my soul. It wasn't to be though. Three days after the 'accident' he died. I still remember the minute when my hope of vindication was crushed and I died; 2 am and 36 minutes. His face haunted me for a long time.
The funeral was held on a Tuesday morning. The weather was miserable. Cold with a driving rain that stung your face as you walked. All I could think of was that she was really gone, never to return. The grief was numbing. I felt as if my heart was refusing to beat, dying in a cocoon of pain and loss. Darkness was closing in around my mind leaving me alone. They couldn't even get the funeral right. Not even the funeral could be made to go well!! The coffin slipped and hit the ground with a sodden 'thunk'. The vicar holding the service dropped his book into the grave and then lost his footing and rapidly followed. The... parody, that cosmic parody were what started the change. My grief and pain flared white into twisted anger and thirst for revenge. No more was I about to endure these humiliation, this disrespect for my wife's name. No more.
Lights dim
