Accidentally Married

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Tom went away to film in Scotland for a few weeks and I finally felt as if I could breathe. He would be back some weekends, but most of the time I had the house to myself. I could leave dishes in the sink if I wanted to, eat junk food without feeling judged and slob around in yoga gear without feeling self-conscious.

We had a burst of nice weather before autumn finally set in, an Indian summer and to make the most of it, I often took the laptop out into the garden to write, even running a cable out there so I could work all day without the battery going.

I had been putting in eight or nine hours a day, feeling as though I had to treat my writing as a proper job rather than a year off, but I had a lot to work with. Reviewing my old files brought up a lot of partial manuscripts and a lot more plot outlines that I hadn't ever had time to start writing. After a few days of browsing, I found a partial manuscript that inspired me and began to flesh it out and finish it.

It was a fictionalised version of the life of Eleanor of Aquitaine, from the 12th century, that was about 70% completed. Like many women in her time, she had 10 children. Unlike many people of her time, she lived to be 80, and had her first marriage to the king of France annulled at her behest (despite bearing two female children to him) and went on to marry the king of England. As well as being Duchess in her own right, she had ruled England while her husband was away at the Crusades, had conspired against him with her sons, had been imprisoned for 16 years, and eventually outlived both husbands and all but 2 of her children.

I had loved her story when I first read about her as a child and I had read a few biographies of her over the years, all of which only added to my interest.

I read through the existing manuscript, then continued it and fleshed out the bits I had left for later and once finished, I set about editing it.

I tried to cut the manuscript down, knowing it was far too long but it was hard. Instead I worked to make first three chapters the best they could be. If there was any interest, I could discuss with a publisher the option of either cutting a lot of the text from the book, or possibly splitting it into two volumes.

Without Tom to suggest leaving work in the evenings, I often worked into the night. Five weeks after I had moved in with Tom, I was ready to send the manuscript out and printed off 22 copies of the first three chapters. I spend the first weekend when Tom returned home writing covering letters and stuffing envelopes.

He asked to read it but I wouldn't let him, I was too afraid that he might not like it. Tom returned to the set on Monday and I found myself all alone and feeling rather bereft.

I knew from my work that it typically took 3 months to get a reply from publishing houses. Indeed many would never reply, but it was a given that after 3 months with no communication, assume your manuscript had been rejected.

I tried to work on other projects but I felt too antsy to settle to them.

Without work to occupy me, I began to feel lonely. I had been emailing and texting with my friends but most of them worked in or around Colchester and it was hard to see them. I knew I could visit them but they worked 9­5 and didn't exactly have a lot of free time, as I did now.

I began baking, something I'd enjoyed since I was a kid, but I did so sparingly because usually I took my treats into work or gave them to friends. Now there was only me to eat whatever I created and I was very aware that I was already being judged for my weight.

I got back into running, which I had sadly neglected since Tom left, and I found that I discovered a lot more of my new neighbourhood that way. I also raided Tom's library and picked a couple of thrillers to read but with so little else to occupy me, I finished a book a day.