I said one could live all his life with the guilt under the rug. It is true, but sometimes I feel there is a door under that rug, a door to a cellar. In this cellar, my demons are feeding on my guilt. They are growing stronger, and there will be the day when I cannot hold them inside any longer.
It has been two years now. Our son, Arthur is doing great. Chloe's parents are absolutely in love with him; Sir Hewett has already started to plan his future, thinking about private school, Cambridge or Oxford. It definitely looks like he is getting at all without going to hell for that. Yes, I am starting to wonder now, what is there is hell? If this is the truth, they must be waiting for me. And I believe I know what waits for me there - reproachful eyes of Nola and a huge hole in her stomach. I will not be surprised, because I see those eyes in my sleep. It is not every night now, as it was in the beginning. I know it is here to stay, though.
The man who said "I'd rather be lucky than good" saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It's scary to think so much is out of one's control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck, it goes forward, and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose.