I expected Lauren and the children not to come to London this time around in spite of our long-standing agreement. Lauren has cancelled so many trips under the least of pretexts that this one seemed doomed because of the war in Iraq. As I said to a few friends who are familiar with our relationship, this was one time when I would have understood and accepted her decision not to travel. However, she explained in a terse electronic-mail message before their arrival that it was important for the children to see me before my departure for Istria. A month or two ago she had cancelled the long-agreed visit to London in July, but that was already that. Only a few days into their current visit I have started to fathom what is going on. Lauren and I have not talked about any of this, but I have overheard enough of her banter with various minders to understand the overall pattern. Namely, she has decided to rent out her house in London. The main reason for coming here at this time was to move all their stuff from the house, which will be rented as of next week, as well as Lauren’s nearby studio, which will most likely be let go for good. And this is the reason they are not coming in July. Presumably, they have nowhere else to stay in London. The children’s behavior toward me reflects my place in the larger scheme of things. They are quite loving when we are together, but it is clear that I have become a peripheral character in their lives. Soon to become their mother’s ex-husband, I am a bit of their ex-father, as well. I am history. Thus it came to pass yesterday afternoon that the two of them departed with one of their minders in the middle of my afternoon visit, which was agreed with Lauren immediately upon their arrival. The children waived me goodbye and piled into the minder’s car. Then they were gone, not to return until late in the evening. Walking back to Paddington hours before I had expected to be returning to Reading, I sunk in gloom. This morning I found Lauren’s apology about the whole thing. However, she explained that the children themselves brokered the deal with the minder. She knew nothing about it, she explained. I am history, indeed.