Free Capcir Spring by Jean de Beurre

herself be driven across London. She couldn't imagine much really. After even such a short spell in hospital the streets looked strange, bustling with thousands of people going about their lives, unaware of what had happened to her. And they would never know. She had only been in the safe sterile ward for two nights and yet she was feeling estranged and distant from the familiar streets.
     
    Parking was difficult near the house as usual but eventually her mother found a space a couple of hundred yards up the road from the front door. Everything was so quiet, so normal. It had been different last time she was on this street. The sky overhead was clear and the sun was shining, the weak orange glow of autumn. The street was empty.
     
    It was all so normal. Up the old stone steps and open the lock. The double lock was securely fastened this time. Push the door wide open and then gasp. Everything was a mess. Pictures had been pulled off the walls and smashed onto the floor. They went through into the lounge and the furniture looked as if it had been slashed with a knife. Porcelain figurines from the china cabinet were on the floor in pieces. Feathers fluttered everywhere from cushions that had been burst.
     
    They exited quickly and in silence went through into the kitchen. All the jars of currants, pasta, spices, herbs and one hundred and one ordinary things had been smashed on the floor. The smell was something between an oriental bazaar and a compost heap. The chairs were overturned. Jars of jam had been smashed onto the mess. Eggs had been thrown at the wall and had run down the wallpaper leaving a now putrid slime.
     
    She reached down, picked up one of the kitchen chairs an sat down and wept. Her mother stood beside her, knowing that she had brought a pocket full of tissues as she thought this might happen, and rested her hand gently on Mary's shoulder. At length Mary recovered to ask,
     
    "What do they think happened?"
     
    "It was like this when the police called to interview James after the er.... incident. At that time they didn't know it was him who had attacked you. They came in and found James crashing round like a demented creature, smashing and destroying all he could get hold of. Apparently he was wild. It took four to hold onto him, and get the knife away from him. And all the while he was babbling on about getting rid of the bad bits where ever they were to be found."
     
    "Fortunately it seems that he didn't go upstairs. All your clothes and bedroom are untouched."
     
    "And what of James"
     
    "I knew you would ask me that so I phoned the police station this morning before I left for the hospital to collect you. He has been taken to a special hospital, down in rural Surrey. The officer's words to me were that he needed help. They will be wanting to see you to firm up the statement you made in hospital and to see if you are going to press charges. His personal opinion is that he won't be deemed fit to plead"
     
    "I couldn't press charges. He is my husband. I love him." She paused, "At least I did until two days ago. Now I don't know. I just don't know."
     
    Mary hung her head in her hands and sat for a while in silence.
     
    "I feel, how can I explain, empty inside. I feel as if a part of me has been removed. I suppose it is like when someone you love dies. Actually that is what has happened. The James I loved has died. I will perhaps get him back again but after what happened could I ever feel that I really know him again? Could I ever trust him again? Even if they tell me he is better?"
     
    They talked and Mary agreed to pack up a few things and go and stay with her mother for a few days before she felt like coming back and sorting out all that had to be attended to. She was still feeling very weak and feeble from her injuries, the shock and her time in hospital.
     
    Going to stay with her mother wasn't an easy option for Mary as they had never really got on as well as mothers and daughters are