I stayed there for a long time before the old part emerged again, the practical one that reminded me that someone was waiting, that I had to make a decision, had to get home. Except that it wasn’t home, and why did I have to go there? Because the children would be getting back from school, and Stephen would be coming from work, but it seemed like another lifetime, someone else’s life that involved all those people, and why shouldn’t I stay here when this was mine? But no, of course I couldn’t, I had to go back; so I stood and walked again through the kitchen to the door, and opened it and held the padlock. I looked around and it was all still there. “I’m coming back,” I whispered, a secret, and then shut the lock, turned away and walked strongly down the lane.

The confusion came on the way home. As we drove away from it, the cabin and what had happened there became less real — less good? I felt unhappy now, torn, and worried too by the effect the place had had. It hadn’t frightened me then but now it did, and I thought, “I mustn’t ever go back.” It was terrifying that it had been so vivid.

But returning to the city repulsed me. Suddenly I was hating, really violently hating, the idea of seeing Elliott and Katie, of greeting Stephen, of being what they wanted, of having to hug and comfort and listen to them; and then I was feeling faint, I couldn’t make any of it fit together, something had happened and I couldn’t put it in its place. Something radical had broken, and I could not get back to the old way.

I was chilled, shivering when that came. I could not get back to the old way, and what did that mean? It meant it was over; there had been no decision. We stopped in front of the house and I looked at it and could not bear it. “Well?” said Mr. Chapman. “What do you think?”

“Please,” I said, turning to him, begging, “let me call you tomorrow. Please don’t show it to anybody else. I just want a chance to sort things out, if I can call you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll be at work. You’ve got the number.” He smiled. “Nobody’s going to see it before tomorrow, that’s for sure. That’s a long drive, and I don’t think I’m up to a return trip that quick. You just talk it over with your husband, see what he thinks, and give me a call. If he wants to look at it, I’ll see you get a key so you can go up on your own. I hope you take it, I’d like to get it off my mind.”