Chapter 10: Making Up

Baby Did A Bad, Bad Thing

Thursday – 16^th December 1999

“Look, there’s something I have to tell you,” I started to say. “I did something, something that I shouldn’t have, and I’m ashamed about it. And I must tell you and apologise for what I did.”

Angie looked rather surprised and put her coffee on the table.

“What do you mean, something you’re ashamed of?” she asked.

“Well, last Friday night, at the Christmas party, Michelle and I, um, we left about nine, and ended up back in my office, having sex. It wasn’t planned, it just somehow just happened,” I admitted. “I shouldn’t have, it was wrong – wrong because I was cheating on you. And it won’t happen again, I promise.”

Angie’s head jerked up, her eyes wide open.

“What did you do? You had sex – Michelle, she’s the one who works for you?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yes, she’s been working with me for several years,” I explained. “We left the party early, once the dancing started, and, well, we ended up back in my office, and had sex.”

“You did what!” she exclaimed. “You and her – went back and had sex? Just once? I ... I can’t believe you would treat me like that, do that behind my back! So, what is it that you see in her, which makes you want to fuck her? Is it her breasts? Do you prefer her larger ones? Or what is it, aren’t I enough for you, isn’t what we have enough?”

She put her face in her hands and started sobbing.

“How could you do that? Don’t you get enough from me? And isn’t Jenny and Sue enough on top of that? No, you’ve got to go and fuck someone just because you’re feeling horny at the time. God, you disgust me!”

I tried to reach across to take her hand, but she slapped it away.

“No, don’t touch me, I don’t want to even look at you,” she shouted. “We had an arrangement, at least I thought we did, that provided we talked about things first, and told each other what we were thinking of doing, we could ... Like with Jenny, I’ve always told you what we might do, and I’ve never kept anything from you. And I thought you had enough respect for me to do the same. Well, fuck you, I don’t ... I don’t want to ever you see you again.”

She stormed off into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I sat, open-mouthed for several minutes. I had thought Angie would be upset, but I didn’t expect her to react that badly. Had she really just broken up with me? It certainly sounded like it. I guess I would have to move out, not that I had any idea of where I would move to; I could go to one of the suites in the office building at St Leonards for a short time, I guessed. But I had finally felt like I was back in a place that was my home; a place that I felt completely comfortable and at ease in, and not just squatting temporarily in someone else’s place.

I wandered out to the balcony and leaned against the railing. What a huge fuck up I had caused, all because I let myself get carried away, and not thought through the implications of my rash actions. It was just as Allison had told me, because I didn’t think about what I was doing, because I had gone back to my old bad habits, not making a long-term plan, just drifting through life. All I could hope was that tomorrow, maybe, we could talk it through, and somehow, I could make up to Angie, and rebuild what we had – that is, if there was a chance we could.

I decided that there was little point in trying to talk more tonight, she was very upset, not all that surprising, I guessed. I cleared up the dinner plates, stacking the dishwasher. I thought about playing some music on my guitar, but I didn’t have the heart for that, not tonight. I took a shower, then lay on the bed in the second bedroom, and tried to get to sleep.

I couldn’t get to sleep, tossing and turning, worrying about what the future held for us. At one time, I wandered to the bathroom for a pee, and on the way back, I noticed Angie’s door was slightly open. I listened at it, and I could hear her softly crying.

“Fuck,” I swore to myself. “You have never been good at keeping relationships but killing it in just over a month is an all-time record.”

I finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Sit Down and Talk With Me

Friday – 17^th December 1999

It was almost eight am when I woke up, feeling like shit. I probably didn’t fall asleep properly until four, and even then, I slept fitfully. I felt as if I had drunk far too much – even though I only had a small glass of wine with dinner.

I headed up to the bathroom and looked in the main bedroom – the bed was unmade, but empty. Angie must have already left for work, maybe wanting to avoid a confrontation. I decided that I should get home early in the afternoon and see if I could spend the night somewhere, probably back at the company’s main office.

I had a quick shave and shower and headed off for a belated start to work.

Michelle looked up as I opened the door and started to speak.

“We were getting worried about you,” she said.

“Michelle, no calls for me, no one, even if it’s the bloody Premier,” I said, cutting her off. “I don’t want to be interrupted, or have any visitors, nothing, ok?”

I quickly entered my office and closed the door – not too quietly – behind me. I sat at my chair for a few minutes, my head in my hands. Then I realised I was being unfair on Michelle and called her on the phone.

“Look, I’m sorry about that,” I started to say. “I’m just not in a very good mood this morning, and, well, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“That’s okay,” she replied. “Would a coffee help?”

A minute later, Michelle put a hot coffee on my desk.

“Anything you want to talk about?” she asked.

“No, not at the moment,” I replied. “I just want to be alone, to work without interruption, that’s all.”

“Well, okay, but you know where I am,” she said as she left my office.

I started reading through the next section of the report, but it was hard going. I ignored most of the emails that came in, including ones from Cathy and Lori. After struggling with the work for about an hour, I decided to give Allison a call, and let her know what had transpired.

“I decided to take your advice,” I said. “Most evenings this week Angie and I have talked about our lives, things we like, getting to know each other.”

“That’s good,” she replied. “But I feel there’s a big ‘but’ hanging over that.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” I said. “Last night I told her about what happened last Friday night with Michelle.”

“And I guess, from your tone, it didn’t go well?”

“Not well at all, she told me that she never wants to see me again.”

“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry about that. So, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll get home early this afternoon and move over to one of the studio rooms in our office building at St Leonards. At least that will have to do for a short-term solution.”

“There’s always the spare room at my place,” she said.

“Thanks, but given the circumstances, that might not be the best option,” I said.

“You are probably right,” she said. “Just see how she is this afternoon, maybe with the benefit of a night and a day to think about it, she might have calmed down a bit.”

“Not sure, when I got up this morning, Angie had already left for her work. But we can only wait and see. I’ll let you know how things are later today, and what I’m doing.”

I knew I wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind to handle them properly. Finally, about 2:30, I gave up, realising I was just wasting my time trying to read through the report. I left, telling Michelle I really wasn’t able to do much today, and took the train back to the apartment. Maybe I could get some stuff, leave a short note for Angie, and get to the work studio apartment before she got home from work. We would have to talk things through, but tomorrow would be better for that. One thing I did know was that there was no point in trying to talk through these things while we were both upset and emotional, that only led to more arguments, and saying more things that only made the situation worse.

I opened the door and stopped as I entered the lounge room. Angie was sitting on the lounge, her eyes all red, looking like she hadn’t slept all night. I hadn’t expected her to be here, and I certainly didn’t want a big confrontation, continuing the previous evening.

“I ... I though you would still be at work,” I managed to say. “I will just collect some stuff and see about staying at the company apartment at St Leonards tonight. I’ll ... I can come back tomorrow, and move my stuff out, if you want, Angie.”

“No, I want you to sit down here,” she replied softly. “Sit down and talk with me. We need to talk about things, Will.”

I sat on the lounge, facing her, waiting for what she had to say.

“No, next to me, here,” she said, indicating the space to her side.

“Look, I want to apologise...” I started to say.

“Wait, let me speak first,” she said. “I’m sorry for how I reacted – over-reacted – last night. I got into work, and looked like shit, I hadn’t slept all night, crying just about all the time, and Michael asked me what was wrong. Well, I told him everything, and we had a good, long talk before we had to open the salon. Well, before he opened things up – he sent me home as I he told me I was in no condition to work.”

“One of the things he said was how he had noticed a huge change in me since you and I had been together. He realised that we must have something special, something that few people have, and I shouldn’t let it go, shouldn’t throw it away. The other thing he said was I should really ask you why you told me about what you did, because according to him, you could have kept it a secret from me, not saying anything, and I would never have known.”

“I have been sitting here for most of the day, going over everything, and Michael is right, we do have something special. What I said last night – about never wanting to see you again – and all of that, well I didn’t mean that. And I don’t want you to leave me, even for a night. Unless you want to, I mean, were you wanting to move in with Michelle? I have been worrying that you would come back, just to pack your stuff up and move in with her.”

“No, not at all, I don’t want to leave you, that is, if you want me to stay,” I replied. “And I don’t want to ... I wasn’t thinking about moving in with her, or anyone else, not at all.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” she said. “Tell me, truthfully, you don’t want to have sex with her again? Or live with her?”

“No, I don’t, and we both said it won’t happen again,” I said. “It was just one of those one-off things.”

“Good, I have been so scared that you would do that – and that I may have said things to sway you, to drive you to her,” she continued. “Look, I’m still really upset about what you did, and how you went behind my back, and all that. It really hurt me, and you know I’m not jealous, and if you had told me beforehand about her, and that the two of you would, well, you know, want to have sex, then I wouldn’t have told you not to. At least I think I wouldn’t have. But it is doing it without talking about it first, just as if I wasn’t part of your life, that is what hurts.”

I nodded, and smiled at her as she took my hand, and squeezed it gently.

“Now, what made you want to tell me about it? You could have kept it a secret, and I would never have known,” she asked.

“Well, in the past, when I have tried to keep things a secret, they have a habit of coming out, and if it did, then that would have made things much worse,” I started to explain. “I felt that I owe you that – being honest, not keeping things from you.”

“That’s what Michael said that you telling me meant you really love me,” Angie said. “Although he put it much better than I just did. But I am sorry for how I went on; I said some pretty bad things to you. I don’t know what made me do that, maybe it was hormones – I was probably ovulating yesterday, and with Jenny having left for a few days, and all of that, I was probably too sensitive.

“Now, let’s put that behind us. I do forgive you; I know it was a one-off thing, and you still love me. And I still love you,” she added, and kissed me.

“But you’re not off the hook, not completely. You do have to make things up to me, and I still feel a bit, I don’t know, like I’ve been pushed aside. I know you didn’t mean it, but that’s just how I feel – like you completely forgot about me, about how I love you, in the heat of the moment.”

“Now, let’s have a shower – maybe separately, and how about we go out tonight, as if it is our first date – and we can just talk, just as if we were starting from the very beginning, like we were seeing if we were suitable for each other. The talks we had earlier this week, learning about each other, I loved them, and we need to do a lot more of those,” she said. “Let me go and get ready first, we could go somewhere for a drink or two, then for dinner.”

Angie stood up and kissed the top of my head.

“And we would come back here, afterwards, and I’m not sure I would want us to make love, not yet, but maybe spend the night together,” she added. “Can you understand that? It sounds silly, but maybe we should try the evening without sex, just being good friends.”

She went to the bedroom, and then to the bathroom, and I heard her start the shower. I decided to get some clean clothes to wear and put them on the futon in the second room. I gave Allison a quick phone call, to let her know that maybe things would work out.

Angie’s suggestion for the evening was good; we found a bar down near Bondi beach, and then had dinner at a simple Greek restaurant on Campbell parade. We did lots of talking; about things each had done in the past, what we enjoyed doing, things we liked and disliked – I guess just like any other couple on a first date. I told Angie a lot more about the various places our group had played at over the years, and some of the recordings that I had been involved in as a backing musician and the albums we had made.

Angie talked about various places she had worked, and all the effort involved in setting up the salon when she and Michael decided to open their own business. She also talked about her time at University, studying film, and how she got into hairdressing since there was no work for her in that field.

The food was surprisingly good – we had a variety of appetisers, and shared the main courses; a wonderful braised lamb with a lemon sauce, prawns in a tomato / garlic sauce, plus lots of pita bread and various dips. We each started with a glass of Ouzo but decided to limit just how much we drank. Finally, we had dessert, lovely rich baklava and galaktoboureko, and a cup of strong Greek coffee each.

Being it was Friday night, the restaurant was busy, and the service was not all that fast, but we didn’t worry. That gave us time to enjoy the meal and talk to each other in a way we really hadn’t talked together at all. We also ate more than we would have, taking the option for additional bread and dips with the main courses.

When we had finally finished our meal, I suggested we take a walk along the promenade overlooking the beach. The night was clear, and pleasantly warm, and we held hands as we crossed the road, and made our way towards the sand.

“Which way do you want to walk?” I asked her.

“Oh, how about up towards the north end?” Angie suggested. “After that huge meal, I need a good walk!”

We slowly strolled along the beachfront, looking down on the sand, where a few people, mainly backpackers by the look of then, were still enjoying the evening. Once we reached the northern end, we walked out to the pool.

“It would be a lovely night for a swim,” Angie suggested. “If we had our swimmers, we could dive right in.”

“Yes, it looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” I replied.

We continued past the pool, and out to the rock platform. A few fishermen were braving the waves, but we decided not to go further. We turned around and walked back to where we had parked.

“Do you feel like going home now?” I asked.

“I think so, the weekend is probably going to be busy, with Sue coming over tomorrow, and you doing the test for those films on Sunday,” she replied. “I’ll probably drive up to Jenny’s on Sunday while the two of you are doing the stuff at Sue’s studio.”

“That sounds good to me, the weather looks like it will be sunny and hot on Sunday,” I replied. “I guess you two will go to the beach?”

“That’s the plan, and Jenny was thinking of asking her friend, Rachel along, so it could be the three of us,” Angie said.

Once we got back to the apartment, Angie gave me a long kiss.

“Thanks for the evening, it was nice,” she said. “Like we were just starting to go out together, you know. And that makes me want to make what we have work even more. Do you mind if we just sleep together tonight? I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m not ready for us making love, not yet.”

“That’s fine,” I replied. “I didn’t sleep well last night either.”

Angie went to the bathroom, and came back wearing a long tee shirt, and slipped into bed. I decided not to worry about clothes, despite her not wanting to be naked, so, after cleaning my teeth, and having a pee, I slid into bed next to her. She turned over and kissed my cheek.

“Sleep well, and thanks for tonight,” she said, before rolling over to sleep.

I was rather tired; too, so I rolled over to lie against her back, and quickly went to sleep.

Early Christmas with Sue

Saturday – 18^th December 1999

When I awoke, Angie had already got up. Just from the angle of the sun, I was sure I had slept late. I rolled over and squinted at the clock – it was well past 8:00 am. I also needed a pee – a big, long one, so I got up, and headed across to the bathroom. It felt strange, one of the few times I had taken a morning pee alone for several weeks – but if Angie and I were to rebuild our relationship, we had to start from the beginning. After a quick shower, I pulled on some clothes, and joined Angie on the balcony.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asked. “I just put a fresh pot on.”

“That would be nice, thanks,” I replied.

Angie went to the kitchen, returning soon with two cups, and some toast and jam.

“Did you want anything else?” she asked, putting the plates on the table.

“No, not after that huge meal last night,” I replied.

We ate our toast, and drank our coffee in silence for a while, until Angie cleared her throat.

“You know, I almost lost my resolve when I woke up this morning, actually when I came back in from my shower, and saw you sprawled out on the bed,” she said. “You were lying there, on your back, and the sheet was off you, and, well, you looked very tasty.”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t mean to...”

“No, there’s nothing to be sorry for with that,” she went on. “I just think we need to, you know, spend some time rebuilding, um, well, you know. At least for another day or two.”

“I understand,” I said. “Now, what do we do about Sue coming here later today? She probably expects things, you know. Should we tell her what happened?”

“Well, I know she will want to make love with you, that’s for sure,” Angie said. “And I won’t mind that, and I’m sure she wants to do more than just go through that filming stuff tomorrow.”

“And if that happens, you’re ok with it?” I asked.

“Well, I’ll find a way to suggest to Sue that the three of us don’t do anything together tonight. Maybe you and her can sleep together; we can see how things go. And tomorrow, when you are at the studio with her, well, I’m happy with whatever the two of you decide to do,” she said. “Funny, isn’t it – but I enjoy you being with Sue. And if Jenny wants to do thing with me, well, I know she does, she told me so on Thursday before she left, you won’t mind? I won’t include her friend Rachel, just Jenny and I.”

“Ok, but the other question – what should we tell Sue, and Jenny?” I asked.

“Um, well, it’s up to you, I guess – maybe Sue, she would understand, and probably have some good advice, I’ll just mention something in passing this afternoon,” Angie said. “Not Jenny, she may not understand, or may want to blame you, or something like that. I think she still has a fairy-tale image of love, and all of that.”

After we had finished breakfast, we caught up with a few chores. While Angie did some laundry, I vacuumed the apartment, then Angie unpacked the dishwasher, and I made the beds, put out some fresh towels, and gave the whole place a good airing out. Around lunchtime, Angie made a salad for us, while I grilled some ham steaks. A simple, but tasty lunch; neither of us really wanted a huge meal.

Sue arrived sometime in the middle of the afternoon, carrying her overnight bag, another dress bag, and a big folder stuffed with papers. As soon as she opened the door, she dropped everything on the floor, and gave Angie a huge hug.

“Oh, it’s great to see you two, I’ve got all the stuff for the advertising campaign, well some of them, and I want to run through the story boards, and I have my long gown to wear tonight if we want to have a nice dinner together, and...” until she ran out of breath.

“Oh, I’m sorry, she said, after kissing us both. “I kind of swept in here and overwhelmed you, didn’t I?”

“Tropical Cyclone Sue,” I joked. “It was the influence of you being up in Far North Queensland that does it.”

“God, don’t remind me. If I never get back to that place, it will be too soon,” she replied. “Now, where can I dump this stuff – in the bedroom?”

“Come on, I’ll help you in with it,” Angie said, picking up her bag.

The two of them seemed to be taking a while in the bedroom, so I assumed Angie was giving Sue some background to the last few days; my ‘straying’, our subsequent argument, and how we were making up. I busied myself with starting to prepare the evening meal; I had a leg of lamb to put in the oven, along with some vegetables – potatoes, pumpkin, and carrots. I had just put that in the oven when the two of them returned to the living room.

“Well, I have some presents for the two of you,” Sue said. “Since I won’t be here over Christmas, we can open them early if you want. I’ll just have to get them from my car, I couldn’t bring everything up with me.”

“We can do that after dinner if you want; Will, why don’t you give Sue a hand to bring things up?” Angie said. “I’ll get out presents for Sue out and put them under the tree.”

As Sue and I waited for the elevator to arrive, Sue asked me about the last few days.

“Angie tells me you two had a fight the other night,” she said. “Are things really ok with you?”

I wondered how much Angie had told her; so, I decided not to give her all the details.

“Yes, we did have a fight, but we made up last night, and we’re working through it,” I said.”

“Well, just as long as I’m not here at a difficult time,” she said. “And if you need to talk about anything, you know you can talk to me if you want to. I told Angie the same thing, too.”

“Yeah, thanks, that’s good of you,” I replied.

I was about to say some more, when the elevator arrived, and an older couple from one of the floors above us was already in there. I said hello to them, and Sue and I rode down to the basement.

“Maybe we can talk more about it tomorrow,” she said, as we walked from the elevator to her car.

Sue unlocked the boot of her car and pointed to a large plastic shopping bag.

“If you can carry that one, I can grab the other one,” she said.

Back in the apartment, Sue put several wrapped presents in a pile next the others. While I finished the dinner preparations, Sue and Angie discussed redecoration, how we could redo the living room to match the furniture I had brought along.

“The real problem is how to get a suitable dining table in here,” Angie said. “I don’t want to have a large table taking up lots of space, but it would be great to somehow have something other than the breakfast bar or have everyone sit on the sofas.”

“I may have an idea,” Sue said. “I saw it at a friend’s place a while ago, a table that folds out and fits under the edge of the bar. Normally, it would seat four people, but with an extension that would allow you to get six around it. And if you don’t need the table, it fits flat against the wall, under the bar.”

They continued making plans, and I heard them talking about converting the opening to the hallways and kitchen to archways, changes to the lighting, and styles for the window drapes. It was all over my head; while I knew how to paint walls, and simple things like that, anything more fancy was like someone speaking a foreign language to me.

But from the gist of their plans, it sounded good; Sue had drawn up a rough sketch of what she thought could look good. As well as the “magic table”, as I referred to it, she suggested an open wall unit in the corner between the window and the kitchen wall, to match the entertainment unit on the other side of the sliding doors. The lighting was the main change they seemed to concentrate on, using some halogen track lights over the sitting area, and a moveable pendant over the dining area.

By the time the food was ready, the two of them had several large sketches done, which Angie would discuss with her designer friend, Sandra to get it worked out properly. Sue said she would get the name of the carpenter who built the foldaway table, and pass that on to us too. We would have to see how it could be built so that the sections of the top could be stored out of the way when we didn’t need them.

With the meal almost ready, I set the table – well, the places at the breakfast bar – and opened a bottle of wine for us. As soon as I pulled the lamb from the oven, Angie and Sue somehow found their way to the kitchen, enticed by the smell of the cooked meat. They both tried to sample little pieces of the meat as I carved it, until I chased them away, waving my carving knife in the air, and sounding like some irate French chef.

“If you want to be useful,” I said in desperation, “you can pour some wine, and put some music on. This will be ready in a minute or two if you keep out of my way!”

I was always proud of my roast lamb; years ago, I had been shown how to cook it, pushing slivers of garlic and small springs of rosemary into the meat before it went in the oven. That way, the flavours cooked through the whole roast. However, I did have to remove the rosemary springs before I carved it. And while I may have mastered cooking the leg, I still had a lot to learn about carving it. The bone always seemed to be in the wrong place, or I couldn’t find the right angle to cut. Eventually I had the three plates done and gave the edges a quick wipe. I poured some mint sauce into the cut glass container and put that out as well.

Despite my misgivings over my carving ability, the meal was tasty. Angie and Sue continued talking about decoration options, this time on what to do with the carpet. The existing carpet was starting to show its age, and the higher traffic areas were getting a bit worn. The main question would be whether to replace the carpet in the bedrooms as well, even though they were in better condition than the rest of it.

I thought the apartment would look better with new carpet; it wouldn’t take much for me to rip out what was there, and if we were going to the trouble of doing everything else, leaving the old carpet in place would be silly.

With dinner out of the way, I turned on the coffee maker, and we moved to the lounge area, ready to open the presents.

“Who should go first?” Sue asked.

“Well, when I was a kid, we had a tradition of the youngest hands out the presents,” I said. “Actually, at my parent’s place, we still do that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sue replied. “That means you, Angie.”

“Oh, goodie, I get to go first!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down.

Angie retrieved some of the presents from under the tree, the ones that Sue had bought with her, plus the ones we had for Sue. She passed out the presents, one for me, three to Sue, and one for herself, which left one to the two of us.

“I guess we should open this together, after our individual ones?” she suggested, to which Sue and I both nodded in agreement.

She unwrapped her present, carefully removing the sticky tape, and pulling back the wrapping paper without tearing it. Once she could see the contents, she squealed with delight.

“Oh, Sue, that is fantastic, but it is too much, thank you so much!” she exclaimed.

She showed me her present, a new digital video recorder.

“Well, I wasn’t as extravagant as that might seem,” Sue said. “We bought several of them at work, to see if we could use them for some outdoor work where a full-size camera wasn’t practical, but they didn’t have the quality we needed for professional work. So, there were a few sitting in a studio, still unopened, so I got it a at a pretty good price.”

“Oh, it’s so fantastic, I can’t wait to get out and use it,” Angie continued. “I guess I’ll have to read all the instructions first, though.”