Chapter 5

Saturday morning started late. I hadn't slept well, but I couldn't rouse myself to get out of bed. Eventually I remembered my appointment at the gym, so I managed to get to the shower. That helped.

I was just about to leave the house, early for the gym, but I thought I would grab a coffee or juice in town before that, when my phone rang. It was Phil.

"Hi, Phil."

"Why didn't you tell me? You poor bugger. Are you alright?"

"Yes, As well as can be expected."

"You should have said something. Denny's being sticking pins in a wax model of you all week, and I've had my doubts."

"I was going to, but would you have fancied telling Denny that her best friend was a lying cheating bitch?"

"Oh... I see. But still..."

"Well you know now. And it was better that Beth told you. I take it that's what happened? It was confession time on the girl's night out?"

"Yes. Denny got back here absolutely shell-shocked. She's spitting blood about Beth."

"Tell her not to. I really do need to see you, Phil. No I need to see you both, but I've got to go. I've got an induction session at the gym in three quarters of a hour, and I need a coffee before then."

"You! Gym! Narcissistic pansy boys I think was your phrase when I joined."

"Well, as I've failed with women I thought I'd join the other side."

"Actually, it's a bloody good idea. Some good work outs will help, or they would me. Anyway, how about a pint at lunchtime? You'll need it by then."

I hadn't planned on seeing Phil today. I wanted to talk to him openly, but I had tomorrow in my mind "Haven't you got a match?"

"We did have, but have you looked out of the window this morning?"

No I hadn't. But I did now. It was a grey, wet English summer day. And the rain looked as if it was here to stay. "Oh, I see. Yes it does look a bit bleak."

"So, what about it?" Phil pressed me.

"I think I'd rather still see you tomorrow. I'll be more relaxed by then, and I do need to talk slowly and sensibly about all this."

"Well OK. How about the Red Lion at eleven thirty."

"Does it have to be the Red Lion. I've seen rather a lot of it lately, and it isn't the best pub in the world."

"Its better than a lot. But OK then, how about the King's Head out on the Sheepen Road? That's nice, with plenty of quiet corners to settle into. You could walk to it, it's not that far across the fields from your place. And I'll get Denny to taxi me."

"OK. The King's Head tomorrow. But I must go now. Bye Phil."

"Look after yourself. It will get better, Tim. Denny and myself will help."

"Thanks"

The gym was nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. After I'd parted with an exorbitant cheque, and got my little plastic card to swipe for anything I wanted to do; to go through a door; to use a bit of equipment; to lock a locker; to have sheer bloody exhaustion fitted... Actually the guy who took me over all the equipment and helped fill in a rudimentary health check was very nice. I wondered whether he would like an introduction to Beth's brother Stephen, but he was a nice guy. He gave me some tips on what he thought I should concentrate on, but I refused to pay for the full personal training programme. Some general workouts and a bit of sweat would do for me.

After the instructor had left, I thought I'd have a go on a few bits of kit, when Dave turned up, "I thought you didn't come on Saturdays."

"I don't normally, but Maddy went off last night to some wedding with her ex. So I've some thoughts to work out. And I knew you would be down here, and I thought you might like a pint afterwards."

It seemed everybody wanted to pour beer down my throat. Being a cuckold has its compensations.

Dave and myself had a pleasant beer and lunch together. Our talk was very work orientated, I warned him that we seemed due for a Perry led game of musical chairs. He took it well.

When we came out of the pub it had stopped raining. It wasn't a great day, but it was drying up. After I had said my farewells to Dave I went for a walk round town. Its odd how you look at a place differently without a partner holding your hand. I guess you don't have to look in shop windows that don't interest you, and you can spend longer looking at things that do. Married life is a compromise.

I then thought I might stroll round to River Mead, just to look. Blindside was becoming a bigger and bigger question mark in my mind.

At the end of River Mead, where the road meets the river, there are a couple of park benches, for people to sit and look and take in the view. I sat on one and looked sideways at Trafalgar House. There was no sign of the Chapmans, I think the scaffolding was now higher than it had been last week.

I sat there for over half an hour, in deep thought. But I was no clearer as to whether I was going to live there than when I started. Beth had met the first of my demands, I wondered whether she would meet the other two. If she didn't, then my decision was easy. But, if she did, could we, would we make the progress towards rebuilding something worthwhile between us that may make me stay? I was learning that I may be able to dictate the timetable, I may be able to set my own criteria, but it was still a partnership to see what would happen. Damn the woman, she was still ruling my life!

On Sunday morning, I got to the King's Head just in time to see Denny's car pull out of the car park, I don't think she saw me, but I waved just in case.

Phil was at the bar when I went in. I tapped him on the shoulder and said "Make it two"

The barman was handing him two pints. "I already did." he said, passing me a pint. The pub was surprisingly full. Tourist trade, I thought, as we looked round for somewhere to sit. We found two good seats in an alcove in a side room. We sat down and looked at each other.

"How do you feel?" was his opener.

"Surprisingly good, actually. When it all happened on Fateful Friday, I was just consumed in the pain of anger, of personal hurt, of revenge, of despair, of... Oh I don't know, just so much. I couldn't read, I couldn't think straight, I couldn't eat. But it is surprising how you get used to living with pain. There is this bloody great hole inside of me, eating away at me. But I can walk and talk and watch telly and work. I just seem to get used to living with the pain. Its almost a friend."

"A pretty hellish friend. No thank you." he observed with a slight shudder.

"Yes, well..."

"You should have said something. We really did think it was something you were both responsible for, and you were definitely the bad guy in Denny's eyes."

"Yes well... I wanted to. I know I needed to talk to you, but when we met last week, I don't think I was capable of taking decisions. You told me that you would have to tell Denny, and that was right, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't sure I wanted her to know, not then."

"You poor bugger. It must have been hell for you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

"Don't worry about it." I was beginning to feel tears welling up as I sort of re-bonded with a very dear friend. I took a long draught of beer. Phil followed suit.

Freshened, I asked what Beth had said. Phil gave me a quick summary. It seemed to cover the story, truthfully, even complete as far as I knew it, but it didn't add a lot to my understanding.

"Well, now you know as much as I do." I said. I drank some more beer.

Then Phil continued, "Denny said that Beth was really upset by all of this. She was so full of remorse. She, according to Denny, loves you desperately, and is so scared that she's lost you."

"I think she has. I can't see a way back, Phil. Not for me." Again the tear ducts were on the move. More beer and a pause. But saying those words warranted more than beer and a couple of seconds for recovery. I blew my nose, that did the trick and the tears subsided.

Phil had seen my emotion. He put his hand on my arm and said "Its alright Tim. Tears are inevitable. I'd be a bloody waterworks if it was me. A blubbering mess curled up on the floor."

"You think I haven't been?." I blew my nose again. And smiled weakly.

"Denny thinks you ought to get the divorce papers in right now. Clean break and all that."

"I thought you said she thought Beth could find a way back, or at least she wanted to?"

"Yes, but to Denny, its simple black and white."

"And you?" I asked.

"It was to me as well. My initial reaction was much the same as Denny's. But as we talked, and we did talk for ages, I started to imagine what my life would be like without Denny. I began to wonder where I'd draw the line. I couldn't live with knowing that she'd cheated on me, but I couldn't just throw away everything we have. I really don't know. I think I'd be searching for 'why?' Wanting a reason, some excuse to forgive and forget."

"Yeah. You've got it."

We both finished our pints. I held out my hand for his glass, which he gave me, and I went off to the bar. Once I was back with two new pints, Phil looked at his watch.

"I'm under strict instructions from Denny. We can drink as much as we like, take as long as we like and then I'll phone her and she'll come and collect us and we'll all go back to our place where she'll feed us."

"That's very generous of her. She goes up in my estimation." I smiled.

"She feels guilty. She's been painting you as the lowest of the low all week. But I'm not complaining! For the first time in my life, she's taxied me to the pub as opposed to reluctantly rescuing me when I can't drive home."

We fell to silence, drank our drinks. I wanted to talk, but didn't know how to start, when Phil did it for me, "Who is this Ken, anyway? Do I know him?"

"Well you must have met him, at one of our barbeques or parties. He's about late forties, maybe fifty. Slim-ish, about six foot, greying hair. Always immaculately dressed, he always stands out for wearing expensive clothes that are always one step too formal for whatever the occasion. I thought he was OK, average really. I would never have imagined him as my rival."

"Is he the one that always tells you he's got a Bentley within the first two minutes?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Oh. Yeah, he's nothing special. Good God! Fancy her choosing him. What's happened to him, or them I suppose I should say?"

"I don't really know. I know Jean said something about Spain, and this was the end for her, or something. But my mind was in overdrive at the time, I didn't take it all in."

"Don't you feel like screwing his face into the grill of his Bentley? I think I would."

"No, not really. Surprising that, I thought I would, before this happened, if you know what I mean. But it's the one thing I do remember from what Jean said that morning, 'They were both adults.' It doesn't matter what he did, even if he wooed her with money and fine wine and the whole works. She did it of her own free will. And she went back and did it again, time after time for three bloody months. That's my sticking point."

Phil looked at me, maybe slightly surprised. "What do you mean, five times is acceptable but ten times isn't?"

"Well I'm not sure about even five times, but maybe, just maybe, once might have been excusable. Maybe we've had a row, he plies her with drink and flattery, et cetera. She falls for it. Maybe I would have to forgive that. But to go back, deliberately, time after time, that I can't get over. It isn't even the sex as such. It's the decision to betray me and our marriage for months on end that I can't get over. Even if I could understand what made her do it, if I could find a way of forgiving her, I still don't see how I can forget."

I felt exhausted, and took a swig of beer. Phil sat silent. I guess he decided to put the other point of view, whether out of kindness, to give me something to argue about so as to help me to realise my own true feelings, or whether just because he likes a good argument in the pub, I don't know.

But he pushed me, "Plenty of couples do. Or learn to live with it, maybe like your pain. They seem to rebuild something that they can happily live with. Its hard to imagine from the outside."

Phil knew me, he knew I would rise to the bait, "Yes, but... Six months ago I could spot Beth across the room at a party, chatting or dancing with some young, attractive guy, and I wouldn't have given a damn. Good luck to her for making new friends, for enjoying herself. I trusted her completely and didn't have a jealous bone in my body. But now, for the next thirty, forty, fifty years of my life, I'd see that and wonder, Is this it? Is life repeating itself? And I won't live like that, I can't live like that. And I don't see how she can convince me, show me, that it won't be like that."

I drank some beer. Phil remarked, "Yes, that would be tough." before I continued.

"And another thing. I can't believe a damn word she says. And even if she did really mean it at the moment, that she's never ever do it again, how do I know what she's going to get up to in five years time. Promises fade. And obviously the sanctity of marriage doesn't mean a lot to her."

"Well, maybe she's learnt her lesson. Denny said she really is getting the message that this is the end."

"But how do I know that? How does she prove it? She can't, and in a case of doubt, I'll play safe. I won't get caught again."

Phil finished his pint and looked at me. "Fancy another one?"

"Not really. Its good to sit and talk to you, Phil. But I don't need to drink. I'll happily drink something non-alcoholic if you want another one."

"Well how about I phone Denny to come and collect us, and we have a half while she gets here?"

"That sounds fair." And that's what we did. We didn't really talk about Beth after that, or not until Denny arrived, when she went through the customary sympathy bit.

When we got to their house, we paused in the hall while Denny told us that she planned a traditional Sunday roast, but that meant she still had some cooking to do. So Phil and myself would have to wait about half an hour before it was ready. Phil looked surprised at her plans, but then asked me what I would like to drink. I told him that juice would be fine, or a Coke if they had no juice. I strolled into their living room whilst Phil followed Denny into the kitchen.

I wandered across to their patio doors onto the garden, and as the sun was out, I rolled them back and stepped out.

Their kitchen window was open and I could hear Denny's voice "... seems OK."

"Yes. I think he's a bit delicate emotionally. But he seems to be holding it all together."

"Did you talk about everything. About how Beth was and everything?" Denny seemed to think there was more than Phil was likely to have told me.

"No, not everything. I thought some of it would be better from you, firsthand so to speak." It seemed that Denny was right.

"OK We can talk over lunch." said Denny, with some relish, I thought.