Free The Man Who Built the World by Chris Ward

her decision.
    Matt’s forced absence had given her a little breathing space, enough to structure everything in her mind, to begin to understand the calamitous situation into which their marriage had fallen. She had had a chance to look at their lives from an exterior perspective, view the changing emotional structure of their marriage and track its degradation. She saw the love turn bad like a rotting apple, saw the arguments increase, the coherent conversations become rarer. She saw their income fall as Matt’s books struggled to sell, saw his drinking increase, her own anxieties grow, constant rows and then that fateful night when he had hit her. The bruise had all but gone but the memory of the occasion remained fresh in her mind, especially the look on Matt’s face. That terrifying power, the dominance in his eyes, and the way the smirk at the side of his mouth told her just how much he had enjoyed it.
    But most terrifyingly of all, she thought, as she stroked Sarah’s soft mousy hair while her daughter slept, her new view point came from far too close at hand. From the eyes of her own children.
    She had already packed their cases. As she threw a last couple of tops into her own, she knew the time approached.
    Time to go.
    Earlier, a quick phone call to her mother had found her a place to stay. Indefinitely, if she chose, though she wanted to be out of her parents’ way as soon as she could. She didn’t want to impose, not with the kids as well, no matter how many times her mother insisted they were welcome.
    She didn’t want to go, but reason had swayed her. Follow your heart , her mother had told her earlier, which had got Rachel thinking. Was she? Did her heart have any bearing in this decision?
    The kids. The kids mattered most of all. No matter what might happen to her, she could not put the kids at risk.
    Matt had gone home to see his father. Rachel knew only that they hadn’t spoken for fourteen years. Matt had never divulged the circumstances that surrounded his running away at seventeen, and although she had asked many times he had always refused to talk about it. He hadn’t killed anyone, (at least as far as she gathered), no one was after him and he hadn’t stolen any money. A family feud, she assumed. Matt could be incredibly stubborn and clearly held a grudge, but anything that separated you from your family for fourteen years had to be serious, more than a simple falling out.
    He hadn’t been emotionally well for a long time, and his sister’s sudden death would have done nothing to help him. His emotional state was bad now, so she dreaded to think what it would be like upon his return. She feared his return, though hated herself for thinking that, and didn’t want the kids around just in case. She knew how much he loved them, how he could never hurt them. But she had once thought that about herself.
    Perhaps, after a few days they might be able to talk, on neutral ground, resolve a few things. Their leaving might just be the shock that would pull him out of his self–imposed quagmire, get him thinking clearly. In time they might resolve their problems and become a family again. A proper family, like they had used to be.
    She flipped down the lid of the case and zipped it up. She was leaving a lot behind. Most of her life, in fact. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she brushed it away, annoyed that she felt like this when Matt hardly deserved her sympathy.
    She turned towards the hallway and shouted. ‘Are you ready, kids? Sarah? Luke?’
    Two distant voices murmured their assent.
    Rachel hauled her case up off the bed and made her way downstairs. The kids waited in the hall, already kitted out in their cold weather gear. She couldn’t help but smile; they looked like two miniature Arctic explorers in their hats, gloves and raincoats. Rachel put down her case, dropped to her knees and beckoned the children forward, taking one in each arm.
    She hugged them tightly to her, burying her face in