There was no other money. I had no insurance policies that could be cashed in without Stephen’s knowledge. I would have to accept what I had, take what I could, and simply hope that it worked out. I made lists of things I would need: pots and pans, food, fuses, paint, furniture, curtains, towels, toothpaste — everything I could think of. Much of it I would buy in the little town near the place; basic things to get me started I would take from here.

I burned the budgets in the fireplace.

The memories are clear in me now. Everything that day was very sharp, and I was deadly calm. I knew exactly what I was doing; I knew I needed to be at that place I had seen, it was urgent and necessary, and I did what I had to.

The children came home from school; Mr. Chapman still hadn’t called back, but I was not concerned. I knew nothing would go wrong, not now. It was something inevitable, there was not a question about it.

Katie and Elliott were not hazy now, as they had been earlier. But still I was far away, I could see them and they were sharp and distinct, but at a great distance. I watched them, assessed with absolute detachment what I was doing. I was their mother and I was deserting them. I was taking the money that would have been theirs. There were no justifications, no reasonings, and no guilt; they failed to move me.

I carried on normally. I let them help me prepare dinner. I promised that later we would make cookies. When the telephone rang we were all in the kitchen, and I warned them to stay away from the stove while I was out of the room. I did not wonder who would warn them after I was gone.

“Mrs. Phillips?” The voice was Mr. Chapman’s, and it sounded relieved, as if the decision had come clear for him also. “I’ve decided to go pretty well for your cash offer. Except that I don’t want to drop quite that far. I’ll take thirty-seven cash, but I can’t go any lower.”

The bargaining was over, and we were both satisfied. “Fine,” I said briskly. “How soon can you draw up a sale agreement?”

“Actually,” he said sheepishly, “I thought you’d probably go for it, so I talked to my lawyer today. I hope you don’t mind. I can call him at home tonight so he can get it finished. I just wanted to be clear that you and your husband want it in your name, not joint.”

“That’s right. It’s to be in my name only. Tax reasons. Can we get together to sign the papers and turn over the money tomorrow?”