Chapter 4

Easter came and went. The children came home for a few days, but were off again soon after – Nicola and I were back at work on Easter Tuesday. We still had the remnants of two sets of clients to service, so the children would not have seen much of me if they had stayed.

So life went on. Business as usual of course: real life continues even when a personal life is fractured. However, the emotions – that’s a different matter. At any moment when there is nothing else to distract, they come crashing in. They are invariably painful.

I continued to run both sides of the office, keeping Gordon in the picture, mainly to keep him from coming in until he was properly signed off by the doctor. Gradually we had worked through his cases but took no new ones until those outstanding were well on the way to completion. The end was in sight – just in time for him to return to work!

Nicola came home with me two or three evenings a week and got to staying Friday and Saturday nights. She spent some time most evenings surfing on the computer and checking files in the hope of some clue, but could find none.

She was a thoughtful companion, listening as I rehearsed over and over again my questions about our break up. I tried to tell her to go out and have a life of her own, but she explained that she had nothing else to do, wanted a rest from men, as she said, “Anyway, I have all the man I want here!”

Who was I to argue?

At the end of the second week after Easter, in early May, I noticed Sally had taken money from the joint account. It was not a large amount – enough for living expenses. It had been taken from an ATM machine in Rhyl, North Wales. Nicky and I were both excited; it put Sally in a particular area, but we were no nearer to finding her. As Nicky said, we could hardly go to Rhyl for two weeks and stand by the ATM machine in case she came back!

After four weeks another cash withdrawal was made – the same amount, but this time from Bangor. It turned out to be the last withdrawal in that manner from our joint current account. I noted that half our joint savings from the contingency deposit account was taken. Jim Tolley, our contracted PI, found out that it was withdrawn from a branch in Caernarfon; I didn’t ask him how he found out, and Jim didn’t tell me. I did ask him if he could find her, but he said that North Wales was a big place, and big mountains got in the way, and it was unlikely she lived anywhere near any of the banks from which she had taken money. He had not the time and the expense to me would be horrific.

By now Nicky and I had realised that Sally was not going to get in touch, and it turned out that no more money was taken after that. The children also became resigned to the fact that they had lost their mother unless she changed her mind.

The Spring Bank Holiday came and went. I spent more and more of my spare time in the garden as the plants really had a growth spurt. Nicky helped, asking questions and learning fast.

However, I was sinking further and further into deep depression. I did my job by rote, I weeded the garden by rote, but apart from that I stayed at home. I listened to music but found little pleasure in it. It was a friendly noise and the house was very silent without it. I only cooked for Nicky. I must have been a tiring companion.

Nicky, bless her, stuck by me through the long morose silences. She planned my leisure activities such as they were. She encouraged me to go to the pub with varying success, and the same applied to visiting my friends. I found it stressful to be affable when I visited, so she was not always successful.

One success of hers was that she made me rejoin my local gym, my subscription having lapsed, and I found I actually enjoyed the punishing exercises and the swim afterwards. She never gave up, even when I was at my most obstinately reluctant.

Martin finished his finals and gained a 2:1 degree. He had an offer to work in the USA for a year, though he was reluctant to take it, but we urged him to go, for it would open doors for him in the future.

Lizzy, who was doing a degree in German had the opportunity to spend the summer vacation in that country, but like Martin was reluctant to leave me. Touched as I was by her love and concern, I urged, nay almost ordered her to go. I cited Nicky’s abiding presence and assured her I would not be lonely. A lie, but a white one, I thought – I hoped.

My friends became accustomed to Nicky’s presence with me wherever I went socially. I had once more to correct the assumption that she was sleeping with me, though some of our friends did not believe me. None of them was in any way critical, indeed they sympathised. Indeed, Robert Fortman congratulated me on my ‘catch’, and would not believe we could be totally platonic. Robert was a hard-bitten policeman, and somewhat cynical. He demanded to be called Robert, as ‘Bob the bobby’ was always a standing joke among colleagues.

Were we platonic? Well, more or less: there was no sex. Details? We hugged a lot. We kissed on the lips. We walked arm in arm. We would touch each other in passing – yes, on the bottom, or the shoulder. We gave each other whole body massages – but not in the nude. We cuddled up on the sofa to watch TV. We were friends, and we did what friends do, without benefits!

As the weeks went by, we became more careless about walking around the house wearing very little. We had walked in on each other in the bathroom, in fact eventually we shared the bathroom if one of us was showering and the other washing. None of our caresses were sexual in the sense that we were trying to excite each other.

On one occasion I was really low and she heard me sobbing in my bed one night. She came into my bedroom wearing her tee shirt and plain white knickers and climbed into bed, taking me in her arms and holding me until I slept, my head on her delightful breast. When I awoke the next morning she had gone.

Now this is not to say I was unaffected by her presence, especially her unclothed presence. She was a very pretty young woman, and everything about her was in perfect proportion, from the curve of her calves to the swell of her breasts. In my depressed state I felt no urge to have sex with her or with anyone else, but I still had sexual urges and I masturbated regularly while calling to mind her wonderful shapely body.

At the end of June, Gordon made his first appearance back in the office, part time, and along with him came Corrie. We appointed a youngster as junior secretary, name of Tina to work in my office, and things settled down reasonably well.

I thought Nicky might feel the youngster was usurping her place with me, but she had so much work to do that she hadn’t time to interfere with Tina. Corrie tended to boss the young girl about and tell her off if she was late. I had to speak to her about it – after all, the girl was my secretary, not common property.

I could see that looking after me and holding down this new and demanding post was taking its toll on Nicky. Added to that I was feeling somewhat better and thought a couple of weeks by myself would be good for me. So I began reminding her of her holiday entitlement, so much so that she asked if I were trying to get rid of her; if she was outstaying her welcome in my house. I then had the dickens of a task to convince her that I wanted nothing more than her continued presence, but that she looked tired and needed a break. She needed a holiday.

Then one day at the end of July she said that some girl friends of hers were going to a Spanish resort and she had been invited as well. I sent her off in mid August with a blessing and an injunction not to get so drunk that she forgot to use a condom. She blushed prettily and assured me she wouldn’t be ‘doing that’ with anyone while there. I said she should still arm herself with condoms just in case. She slapped my arm and flounced off.

So, in the third week of August I found myself truly alone. Many of my friends were away, and I decided finally to get to grips with my loss of Sally and my feelings about her by myself. A holiday was out of the question since Gordon was only at work two or three days a week, but a spell by myself would be as good.

The pace of life at work was less relentless, thanks to Gordon’s part time presence. I put off all but the most urgent work and had given notice that I would not be available for legal aid duty for a month.

I took the days Gordon was in the office as holidays; I pottered in the garden, went for long walks, painted the hall and stairs, went to the coast – North Wales, of course – for days, and to the mountains of central Wales for some hill-walking. The weather was kind, which is unusual in August, when rain is prevalent, and along with exercise at the gym, I felt healthier and fitter than I had for a long time. Life seemed a little brighter, but there were still dark days that had nothing to do with the weather.

The mental exercise, however, was not so pleasant, but I put myself through it anyway. I realised I had still not shaken off my need to search for Sally. It was part of that obstinate desire to know why she had abandoned me and her children without a word, and why she had needed to be unfaithful. While those questions remained unanswered I realised I was in a sort of limbo, unable to move on.

There was still the recurring feeling of loss – loss of a happy and fulfilled way of life; of a loving relationship of some considerable depth; of Sally herself. That was sad and still depressing. There was still anger, because of her callous neglect of my feelings and her ignoring what she must have known I must be feeling. I was continually amazed that she could not even contact her own children.

However, whereas in April, May and June these feelings had been acute and very painful, by now they had become more like a dead ache which came and went; less the agony of a broken bone, more the dull throb of rheumatism, only acute when it rained.

I also believed that I no longer had any longing for Sally; no longer a yearning to see her, or hold her again. I still wanted answers, but that would be enough, though I did wonder to myself sometimes if, faced with her, what my reaction would be. I sometimes played out in my mind our meeting and what would pass between us or rather what I would say to her. I certainly had little or no sexual desire for her or for any other woman, even Nicky.

I felt more at peace for that time spent alone. I wondered if I needed Nicky quite as often, or whether her presence was stopping me moving on. After two years I could divorce Sally for desertion, and that seemed to be the only probable future for me.

Nicky was far too young for me, of that I was sure; she needed a younger man. I now began to feel guilty at keeping her from a happy single life. I resolved to talk with her about it when she returned. It was complicated by the fact that we got on so well together, were so much at ease with each other, and that I did have that strong affection for her. It came to me then: was this love? Did I love Nicky as a lover would? It was not the same as I had felt for Sally, but then this was a completely different situation. No, I thought, she should go out and find a good man nearer her own age. Having sorted that out in my mind, I felt at peace.

Nicky was back at the beginning of September. I had arrived at work early that Monday, and so was at my desk working on a search document when she walked in.

“Hi, Nicky!” I greeted her. “How was the holiday?”

She unaccountably looked guilty.

“Yes. Fine. Thanks,” she said, but her flat tone belied the answer. I decided not to pursue the matter at the time.

“You coming over tonight?” I asked. Something was not right, and I wanted to find out what it was. In any case the earlier we discussed the future the better.

“Not tonight, Caleb,” she said, and looked evasive, “We only arrived last night and I’ve got to do my washing.”

“Ok,” I said, got on with my work and ignored her. For some reason I felt miffed. She left my office and got on with finding what she had to do. We did not speak all day and I left early (a luxury I was beginning to love), without talking to her.

I had finished eating and washing up, and was relaxing on the patio in the warm September sunshine when I heard the doorbell. When I opened the door, there was Nicky.

“Nicky!” I was surprised, “You’ve got a key. Have you lost it?”

“Caleb,” she said ignoring my remark, “I have to talk to you. I have to get this off my chest.”

I led her to the patio without comment about her delightfully shapely chest, though I was sorely tempted, and made her a shandy. I poured myself a beer. I knew she didn’t like neat beer.

“So,” I invited. “What’s the problem?”

She looked worried. “I don’t know how to say this. I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me.”

“Nicky, what is there to be afraid of? You’ve been on holiday. Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“Oh, yes! It was great!” Then her face clouded, “Oh well, here goes. I had sex with a guy while on holiday. It was only the once; it was at a wild party. I felt so guilty afterwards, I wouldn’t go out partying at night with the girls again after that.”

“Condom?”

“Yes. He didn’t like it but it was condom or nothing.”

“So, what’s the problem? You had safer sex on holiday. Is that such a big deal?”

“The thing is Caleb, I’ve felt guilty about it ever since.”

“Why should you feel guilty? Was the sex satisfying?”

“It was good enough I suppose. It was good to be desired after going without for so long.”

“Nicky, I can’t see what the problem is. Do you think what you did was wrong?”

She seemed to gather herself. “I felt I was being unfaithful. I think that was what made me feel guilty.”

“Unfaithful? To yourself?”

“No!” she was scornful at that.

“Well, to whom?”

Again the hesitation. “To you of course.”

“To me?” Now I was astonished.

I sought to soothe her guilt, “But you’ve made no commitment to me beyond friendship. You can do what you want. I’ve got no rights over you, Nicky. In fact I’ve been thinking that I’d feel better if you had a boyfriend of your own age. I’ve said it before that you’re losing out, wasting your life looking after me.”

She looked at me, puzzled, “You don’t see it do you?”

“See what?” Yes, I was being a thick male.

“Oh, God!” she cried, “Men are so stupid. You may not want to know it, but I want to be with you. I know you are still waiting to hear from Sally, but I can’t help it. Now I feel really embarrassed. Can’t you see I want to be here – with – you? I don’t want anyone else, Can I make it any clearer?”

Now I was silenced, my confusion absolute. This was the last thing I expected to hear, and it made a nonsense of what I’d wanted to tell her. As I gazed at her, her features began to register panic. She must have taken my silence to be rejection, for she jumped to her feet and made for the door at high speed.

“Nicky, wait!” I shouted after her. I leapt to my feet, and caught her at the door, grabbing her shoulder. “Nicky!”