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Chapter nine

Walking away

I left Tom on Monday. When he came home from work, I was waiting by the front door with my bags.

‘What are you doing’ Tom asked.

‘I’m leaving,’ I said quickly.

‘What do you mean, leaving?’

‘Leaving you.’

‘No,’ said Tom. ‘No, Nancy. You can’t. What will you do without me?’

This wasn’t easy. I didn’t love Tom anymore but I didn’t want to hurt him.

‘I’m sorry, Tom,’ I said. ‘Things are different now. I can’t stay with you.’

For a few seconds he just looked at me. Then in a very quiet voice, he asked, ‘Is there another man?’

I didn’t answer him. I felt afraid. Tom was already angry. I didn’t want to tell him about George.

‘Who is it? Tell me who it is!’ Tom was shouting at me.

‘I’m not going to tell you,’ I said.

‘Is it someone you met at that centre’ he asked. ‘Is it? Tell me, Nancy.’

‘Yes, it is,’ I said. ‘But I’m not leaving because of him. I’m leaving because I’m learning to think, Tom– to think for myself.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He’s called George,’ I said. ‘And I’m going to help him get asylum, so he can stay in this country.’

Tom stared at me.

‘He’s an asylum seeker?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you are going to live with him?’

‘No, Tom. I don’t know– perhaps one day.’

Tom laughed.

‘You are stupid, Nancy,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe how stupid you are. This asylum seeker just wants your money and your passport. You hear about people doing this all the time. You’ll come back to me, I know you will.’

‘No, Tom, never,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. But I’m never coming back to live with you.’

Then I took my bags and walked away.