Chapter 4

It was Tuesday, the second evening after David had ejected Celia. His first night alone had gone rather better than he thought it would. He had put some jazz on the music system and had a few beers before having a bath, doing the usual bedtime chores and going to bed. His emotions seemed to have gone to sleep ahead of him, and he slept well, going into work the next morning.

However, the Tuesday evening was different: the house now felt very empty to him. He was feeling low, despondent, depressed and lonely. Even so, he did not resort to take-away food; he did not frequent a fast food joint, he and Celia had always shared cooking though he was a much better cook than she was. He did himself a pork chop in bread crumbs, baked potato, peas and a couple of slices off a pineapple they had been eating for dessert.

He buried himself in some work, read a book and went to bed to the strains of Sydney Bechet playing blues – very apt for his mood, he thought.

Wednesday, the next night was worse, and he hadn’t got round to think about eating something, when the door bell rang buzzed. There was his friend Gwen. She smiled sympathetically.

“Feeling a bit lonely?” she asked, walking past him into the house without waiting for an invitation. “Thought you might need some company. Have you eaten?”

He shook his head; that night he didn’t feel like eating, having lost his appetite.

“Come on,” she said, “I’ll take you out for dinner. My treat.”

“I don’t think...” he began by way of declining the invitation, but she was having none of it.

“That was not an invitation boyo, it was an order!” and she laughed.

Somehow her laugh made life brighter, and he shrugged and got his jacket, occasioning another laugh from her. He realised how much he loved her musical laugh.

She took him to a middle-priced restaurant that Celia and he had often used, where the food was good and wholesome. After the meal she approached the subject he had deliberately avoided.

“Listen,” she said. “You need to know this, though you probably won’t think so. You knocked Celia for six the night before last. She was dazed and rang me. If it’s any consolation she was in floods of tears.

“The silly woman thought if she planned her exit carefully, you would lovingly kiss her and send her on her way with your blessing. She hates not being in control. You also need to know that she called Gary and he went over to her place and stayed the night. So the split is complete. You really are better off, even if it doesn’t feel that way.”

She sat back and waited for his reaction. It took him a few moments to process her information and his thoughts.

“OK,” he said at length. “It may seem strange, Gwen, but Gary finally shacking up with her closes the book on her. I knew it was going to happen and I forced the issue. I’m surprised myself that I don’t feel all that upset. I think it’s something to do with my being proactive. I feel annoyed that I’ve wasted six years – I know they’re not really wasted– “ he corrected himself as he saw her begin to interrupt.

“I don’t believe that any good act is ever wasted,” he continued. “Perhaps I did her some good, and I think it will perhaps come out in the future. Personally I was happy all the time; she was good for me, but I certainly don’t feel destroyed, though obviously lonely and a little depressed – you get used to having someone in the house with you; but I’m somehow content that all that is behind me. Does that make sense?”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” she counselled. “I think other emotions will hit you at different times.”

She paused.

“David, I want you to be sure you can call on me anytime. Please do. You know I’ve known Celia for getting on for twenty years and you only for about six, but I really feel closer to you than to her, you’ve become my best male friend, you know.”

She drove him home. As he left the car, she asked, “Any chance of dinner tomorrow? I mean you cooking for me? I love your cooking.”

“Yeah, fine,” he said, “and thanks for tonight.”

“More than welcome!,” she said with a grin, and she was gone.

David and Gwen had a good time at home the next evening, chatting about all sorts of things; they always were easy with each other, and their humour sparked of each other. There was a lot of laughter. Even the silences were comfortable.

On Friday, David brought some ‘homework’: catch-up stuff from the time he’d spent away from work. It was quiet and peaceful in the house, especially with the long light June evenings. He’d take a break and wander round the garden. Celia used to like the garden but hated gardening, so he had had to do it all to keep it tidy and attractive, even beautiful, and he loved to do it: he found it was a wonderful way to unwind.

The next month was, in retrospect, very interesting. Friends gathered round to an extent that surprised him. He was invited out to eat with various couples, those with and without children. He invited them back and they came.

Groups with whom he usually went drinking went out of their way to ensure he attended. There was even one party at which two unattached women independently flirted with him quite blatantly. It led to nothing but cheered him immensely.

Interspersed with all these social activities, there was Gwen, who told him in a tone that brooked no dissent that she was going to keep him active and interested in life. They kissed cheeks when they met and when they parted.

They were doing the things together that David liked the most: symphony concerts, hiking, gardening (she even came and helped with the weeding, much to his surprise). They also went out to dinner together, ate at each other’s houses, went out to the pub. They even went to clubs and danced together. They talked and they laughed; they did crosswords together, played scrabble.

So David had little time to brood over his loss, but brood he did in quiet moments. From time to time he felt upset at the loss of something, a love life that could have been life-long, growing and developing through the years.

He felt pangs of jealousy and imagined Celia and Gary together, making love, enjoying things together. It was the thought that her attention and desire was now focussed not on David, but on someone else.

Then he felt a sense of injustice that Gary did not love her in any real sense of the word, but only wanted her. There was frustration that she could not see it and was destined for deep disappointment and even heartbreak. From time to time he even felt he could take her back if she came to him in tears after Gary had finished with her, but these impulses were immediately banished. The feelings came and went, and the constant attention of his friends and acquaintances prevented those feelings from taking over his life.

It did not take long before he realised that these people were not just being randomly supportive after the break-up, but that the whole thing bore the marks of choreography, and David thought he knew who the choreographer was.