One year, one month, one week, one day, one hour, one minute, one second

One year of tragedy, one month, one week, one day, one hour, one minute, one second.

I was born into a military household. My father was a well known and respected General. My mother was the chief administrative officer for pensions concerning officers above the grade of Major. I was their only child. The household was run like a well oiled Swiss watch. Attention to discipline, high standard of moral and ethical behavior with a sense of duty and respect for your parents and the common good. After a first class education at West Point I was destined for a military career. In fact my parents never imagined another career choice. I enjoyed the military service, its deep sense of commandery, a well defined career path depending on your ability, and the constant moving from one area of activity to another. I suppose my ultimate goal was to emulate my father by achieving General status.  

Then at the age of 25 my life was turned upside down. I was invited to a dinner party to celebrate the New Year.  There must have been about forty people there. Amongst them was a young woman who I was instantly deeply attached to. The kiss at midnight was a long, slow, passionate one reflecting our deep attraction for each other. 

In the next three months we dated regularly. We complemented each other perfectly, in our tastes, our moral standards and views on life. Our only point of contention was that she had a visceral hatred for the military. Her father, in the last war, was shot for being considered a deserter. It appears there were some arguments put forward by his friends that he should never have been not accused. When I proposed marrying her she threw her arms around my neck kissing me and said yes, yes, but on one condition you leave the army. I could never be an army wife.                                     

“Darling, you are asking me to give up a career I love,  if you are making me choose, the decision is a foregone conclusion. I know I could not accept the future without you beside me. Therefore I will hand in my resignation. I am sure my father will be deeply disappointed”.

It took five years for my father to get over my decision. In the meantime, before my marriage, I resigned my commission and got a well paid job as marketing director in a company that handled military equipment. It had a growing export business so occasionally I found myself travelling to various countries, sometimes with my wife. In the third year of our marriage a son was born. Prior to this happy event my wife had a job as a nurse. She also was a violinist in the local orchestra. The birth of a son brought a few changes to our household. My wife stopped working and became a stay-at-home mother. She insisted on continuing her musical activity with the local band. This, I totally supported as I thought it would lighten the task of always being at a young child's beg and call. Just after his birth she was appointed as first violinist. 

We were a close knit family with a sound base of moral and ethical behavior. I remained as deeply in love with my wife as the day of our wedding. I was happy in my job and never regretted that I traded off a promising career in the military to marry my wife. It was in the sixteenth year of our son’s birth that our family life started to unravel. 

One year. (Year sixteenth of our son's birth). 

In the middle of January I received a call from the principal at my son’s school asking for a meeting with me and my wife. Your son has been found cheating. My immediate reaction was this is impossible. We went to the meeting initially completely mystified as our son was a good and talented student. After an angry discussion the school decided to expel him for the rest of the term. During this period he was expected to write a letter of apology. If he so desired he would be reintegrated in the next school term.The reason for the meeting was that he had sneaked into the principal's office. Unfortunately this act was seen by two people. By doing this he had already broken a golden rule. While in there it seemed obvious he had seen the English literature examination questions as on the examination day he got full marks. We discussed his behavior that night. He said. 

“As the opportunity presented itself he thought a little cheating was in order. He did not have the time to find anything helpful. He never realised it would lead to such drastic consequences.” 

With this remark we both exploded with anger. He knew that any form of cheating was totally unacceptable. It goes against the principles we live by in this family and that of your grandparents. There was no question of him going back to the school next term. We ordered him to send a letter of apology. With the help of my father, we found a boarding school where he could continue his studies without any questions asked. For some strange reason he seemed delighted with the idea of leaving the family unit and going to boarding school. 

One month.

About four months later I was on an early afternoon errand in the town. I was just passing one of the town’s well known restaurants when I saw a couple leaving the back entrance. They were holding hands and stopping every few paces to kiss each other. I nearly fainted. The woman was my wife. As I was on the other side of the street I stopped the car to watch them more closely. They both found their cars in the parking lot beside the restaurant. One final passionate kiss. They left separately. On returning to my office I immediately contacted a friend of mine that had a private detective agency. The mandate I gave him was that my wife is cheating on me. Find out all you can. Once I had put the telephone down I took two Prozac pills to calm myself. The present view of my life was like watching black water swirl around a drain pipe. There was no question of attending to the work piled up on my desk. I just sat there in a daze looking out of the window. 

When I finally went home I found the house empty. There was a note from my wife saying she was at orchestra practice and would be back at eight, could I start the dinner. She did not enter the house until eight twenty and as was her usual habit went straight to the bathroom to take a shower. She claimed it was necessary as the shower’s water represented for her the flow of the music she had just been playing and the warm torrent of water brought her back to earth. I now understood the reason. I decided to say nothing until I had a report back from the detective. 

One week. 

This morning on my desk was an envelope addressed, Strictly Private. After attending to the morning mail  I opened the envelope with my hands shaking, no doubt, due to anxiety. There were a series of photos showing my wife and her lover kissing, entering an apartment block, entering hotels in various parts of the country, and a couple of bedroom shots. It wasn’t that I was not only disgusted, it was that I suddenly stopped feeling alive. There was a letter attached stating that this affair had been going on for a few years. Her deception and behavior had crushed me as thought I was some poor insect stamped on by her foot 

One day 

I waited until my son came home for the weekend. At the family breakfast on Saturday morning I handed my wife the envelope. As she opened it she immediately saw all the photos.

“Where did you get these”. 

“I employed a private detective”. 

By this time my son had picked up a couple of photos. He turned to his father and said. “I know how much you love my mum so I always wanted to keep her despicable secret from you. I thought it might be just a passing phase. I knew about their affair while I was at my last school as I saw them passionately kissing one day. It profoundly affected me. I saw my life in a different light as how I could conduct myself and behave”. 

At this point my wife interjected in a soft throaty voice. “Yes, I passionately love him. He is the orchestra’s conductor. I think I should leave now. I have brought misery and shame on us all”.

One minute

“No, you belong to me”. I reached under the table for my revolver and shot her. 

My son cried out, “ Dad what have you done? You have murdered your wife, you will go to prison for the rest of your life. I could never face the future with a father in prison.” He grabbed my revolver and shot his father. 

One second

He then turned the firearm on himself and put a bullet in his head.

David Nutt                                              December 2024