Sunday Girl

by Ella Craig

  ‘Tell him what you told me. Let him go back to his wife. He has a marriage to save. Although, I suspect he’ll be married a third time if not a fourth.’

  ‘I agree, and I won’t be the woman who ruins the lives of his kids for a love affair which probably won’t last. I don’t want him, but the thought of leaving him makes my heart want to shrivel up, but that is not reason enough to stay with Tony.’ She broke down and sobbed like a child. Angela gathered her in her arms and rocked her, making soft, soothing noises. Kath burrowed further into her mother’s warmth and wished she could stay there forever.

  ‘Kathryn, do you understand you must leave this man alone?’

  Kath nodded and pushed herself upright. ‘Jenny kept telling me the same thing.’

  ‘I can well imagine.’ Angela reached for her glass. ‘Did what’s his name, Darren, know about Tony?’

  ‘He found out the hard way when he saw us out together one night.’

  ‘I can’t say I liked Darren much, too hot and cold for my tastes, but he did not deserve what you did to him.’ Kath squirmed under her mother’s gaze. ‘Are you going to do the same to Miles?’

  ‘I told him all about Tony and that he would take some getting over. Miles said it didn’t matter how long it took because he promised to wait for me.’

  ‘He must have the patience of a saint,’ said Angela dryly.

  ‘I hope so, but now I can put things right between us, can’t I?’

  Angela, for once, said nothing and instead left the room in search of more wine. She returned with a dusty old bottle of Mateus Rosé, her husband and Billy. They spent the rest of the evening playing a noisy game of Trivial Pursuits with the bonds that held them all together on display for Kath to see.

  waiting in vain

  Ever the coward, Kath decided to wait until the end of the month until she told Tony. They had a pre-arranged date, and it might give him false hope if she asked to see him sooner, or so she reasoned. Either way, it left her free to concentrate on the ever-elusive Miles. Although an audience with the pope would be easier to arrange than a night out with her so-called boyfriend. She had not seen him in over a week. He was never in when she telephoned, but she knew where to find him on a Sunday. In his favourite jazz club, a smoky hole filled with seductive music and the perfect place for intimate conversation.

  ‘Hello,’ Kath slid into the booth next to Jenny.

  ‘Ow, mind my leg, you clumsy heifer.’

  ‘Sorry, but isn’t this your good one?’

  ‘Not if you keep scraping your boots down my shin,’ said Jenny. ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I am a jazz fusion convert, and I am here to enjoy Brian’s Midnight Weathermen and The Blue Flame Revival.’ Kath read the names from the posters on the wall. ‘I also hope to enjoy the company of some of my dearest friends as well. Where is everyone?’

  ‘Jim is at the bar, Barry might turn up later, and Miles is working.’

  ‘He got the job then? We missed our cinema trip last week because of his stupid interview, but why does he want to work in a poxy hotel?’

  ‘For the money, I imagine. Don’t fret; Miles will only be covering nights for the next two or three weeks.’

  ‘I hope he has his birthday off; I don’t want that messed up for him after New Year and Valentine’s Day.’

  ‘Kath, will you be upset if I warn you that you have a lot of spadework to do?’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know. Our last date with just the two of us was my work's Christmas ball. Since then we have been to four gigs, three quiz nights, two parties, and a trip to the pictures and always in company.’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’

  ‘Mine, but from now on everything will be different. No more Tony, just Miles and me, and I will start by giving him the one birthday present no one else can give him. Me.’

  ‘Gift wrapped?’ Jim set three drinks down on the table. ‘I saw you come in and bought you a pint.’

  ‘Thank you, and cheers.’ Kath chugged down half her drink, Jenny’s lukewarm welcome worried the knickers off her. ‘Last time I spoke to Miles we planned a curry night at my place for his birthday. I was wondering if I should cook for everyone and make a party of it.’

  Jenny and Jim exchanged glances.

  ‘I’m seeing Sue and Allie tomorrow,’ said Jenny brightly. ‘I’ll sound them out.’

  ‘And I’ll chase up Barry and the rest,’ offered Jim.

  ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘Leave it all to us, Kath. Shush, the music is about to start.’

  Kath managed an hour of oboes and wailing saxophones before she lost the will to live.

  ‘I’m going now,’ she informed them, and Jenny stopped nodding to the music long enough to say goodbye.

  ‘Shall I see you at college on Tuesday?’ said Kath.

  ‘No, there’s a departmental meeting, but I’ll call you about the curry thing later.’

  She did on Saturday morning.

  ‘Kath, have you spoken to Miles yet?’

  ‘No, I keep getting the answering machine.’

  ‘Busy man, according to Barry he is packing in the overtime like nobody’s business. How do you fancy joining the ladies this evening for Happy Hour?’

  ‘What an odd way to celebrate Miles’ birthday.’

  ‘Because the boys are going on a pub-crawl, followed by a curry, and we will all meet up in Blondes.’

  ‘Wonderful, I love sweating, thumping nightclubs with migraine-inducing lights and music akin to audio GBH, but I suppose the birthday boy calls the shots.’

  ‘His prerogative,’ Jenny agreed. ‘I’ll see you in The Unity at seven.’

  So much for her idea of a meal and a few drinks, but why were her friends passing up the opportunity to drink her booze and eat all her food? Kath guessed she needed a bigger spade. In the meantime, she had no choice but to go along with Jenny’s suggestion and meet up with the girls for a drink.

  Later in the evening, Kath came to regret her decision after an hour spent drinking with the Stepford Wives. No matter what Kath spoke of, conversation swung back to nice safe domestic topics. She learnt the correct way to hang curtains and the best way to cook a soufflé. Her friends hoovered up anything too messy or uncomfortable to mention. If talk strayed into dangerous territory, Julie headed it off at the pass with her encyclopaedic, if not to say boring, knowledge of everything domestic. Kath gave up trying to talk.

  To finally arrive at the club was a welcome relief. With conversation reduced to gesticulation and pantomime, Kath was spared a slow death by drivel. The sight of Miles, hair like a dandelion-clock and a deep smile, revived her flagging energy, and she did her best to get near him. She wanted to speak to him or, given the surroundings, bellow at him. Just sitting next to each other would be enough for starters. No easy task with Miles surrounded by a red-faced, curry-smelling, guard of honour who appeared determined to hinder her plans.

  The evening ground on and Kath started to feel like an outsider. She was on the wrong side of an exclusion zone with her friends in a tight musk-ox formation apparently hell-bent on keeping her and Miles apart. Whenever she got within spitting distance of him, one of her friends would drag her up to dance. Miles didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she began to fear he didn’t resent the constant interruptions. His wild hair matched the frantic look in his eyes. The whole situation was getting silly, but there was one place they could be alone. She slipped away from their table.

  ‘Miles,’ Kath hissed.

  He looked around, and not seeing anyone he returned to the task in hand, which was urinating.

  ‘Miles, we need to talk.’

  ‘Kathy?’

  ‘I’m in the loo. I never thought you would come in; you must have a cast-iron bladder. Are you done?’

  ‘Er, yes.’ Miles shook and tucked himself away. ‘You can come out now.’

  ‘Thank God, you’re here and alone. Come on, let’s go outside before they realise we’
re both missing.’ Kath snatched his hand and dragged him out of the gents. He made a feeble protest, but this was Kath’s moment. She hustled him down the corridor, kicked open a fire door, and pulled Miles out to the lane that ran down the back of the club.

  'Sorry about kidnapping you, but they would not leave us alone. This is what it must be like to have kids.’ Kath ended on a joke, but when Miles didn't respond, she carried on. 'Now we can talk without any further interruption.’

  ‘What did you want?’

  She squinted at him, had she grabbed the wrong man? Miles would never sound so bored and be so offhand with her. Things slid into focus, and they did not make a pretty picture.

  ‘Why have you been avoiding me?’ With a desperation born of fear, she clutched the front of his shirt. ‘Look at me, damn you. Don’t you want me anymore?’

  ‘I had hope for us once.’ Miles spoke in the wistful tones of one remembering events that happened a long, long time ago. ‘Last Christmas was the best I ever had.’

  ‘Same here, I enjoyed it too.’

  ‘Did you? I wasn’t sure sometimes because things were going so slowly between us. I told myself it didn’t matter, and I didn’t care how long it took for you to get Tony out of your system.’

  ‘He’s gone.’ The nihilistic tone of Miles’ voice set her teeth on edge. ‘It’s you and me now.’ She waited for his response.

  ‘It’s too late,’ he peeled her hands from his chest and kissed each palm. ‘I’m going away again, this time for good.’

  ‘When? Why?’ Kath yanked her hands away from his. ‘You’re leaving me!’

  ‘Christ, I tried, Kathy, I thought I could help, and make you forget Tony.’ He gripped her shoulders and shook her until her teeth rattled. ‘But you didn’t give me anything, no encouragement, nothing. We’re no longer even friends.’

  This was a new side to Miles; Kath never suspected he would be capable of such deep passion. It was exciting and disturbing. Warmth radiated from her groin and, for the first time, she experienced lust for Miles.

  ‘I found the transition difficult,’ Kath said lamely. Where were these feelings when she needed them? ‘I saw you as a brother rather than a lover.’

  ‘You wouldn’t give me a chance. Lover? Christ, we barely kissed; I am more intimate with my own mother. Your problem is; you can’t let yourself go. You’re too frightened of commitment, which is why you hung around with a married man. What did he give you?’

  ‘Heartache, grief, and pain like you would not believe.’

  ‘All of which you passed on to me. You are incredibly generous with your gifts, Kathy.’ He let go of her and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Miles, I didn’t mean for this to happen when we started going out I honestly thought it was over between Tony and me.’

  ‘Apart from the letter he sent you.’

  ‘How did you find out about that?’

  ‘I overheard you talking with Jenny. Remember the day when you left me with the washing-up and sat outside in the garden? I heard every word you said in Liz’s kitchen.’

  Shame scorched a crimson path across Kath’s face. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘Because I wanted to give you more time. I was still prepared to wait for you then, but not now.’

  Kath’s stomach turned over, and she spoke with all the conviction she could muster.

  ‘Tony is out of my life. I’m not seeing him anymore.’ She winced at the lie. ‘I am sorry for what I put you through. Please believe me, Tony is gone, and we can start again. Can you forgive me?’

  ‘If it helps, I forgave you for seeing a married man ages ago, but there will be no starting over because I am going back to Aberdeen. My brother held the job open for me, and I’m leaving tomorrow.’

  She felt faint, sick, and wanted to scream and stamp her feet. ‘No, you can’t go,’ she cried out. A child denied pudding and sent straight to bed. ‘I won’t have it!’

  ‘Kath, I’m sorry, but I can’t take anymore. I tried to give you one last chance, but you didn’t listen. You were more concerned with old Tony Baloney. I made my decision then, time to go away again.’

  ‘Valentine’s weekend, what gave me away?’

  ‘His coat and the flat reeked of aftershave. You would make a crap spy, Kath.’

  ‘As well as a shite girlfriend and a lousy friend,’ anger put Kath on the defensive. ‘Go on, knob off back to Scotland and leave me to explain everything, or do they all know?’ She pointed at the club. ‘I bet they are in there now laughing their socks off at me.’

  ‘Not laughing, I can assure you. Each has tried to persuade me to stay, but I must go.’

  ‘No, don’t go, I want you to stay, you can’t leave me, you can’t.’ She pawed at his shirt again. ‘Miles, stay with me, please?’

  They stood together. She laid her hands on his chest and felt his heart beating with a slow and measured pace, and it calmed her. Kath lifted her face to his and Miles kissed her with a long, slow and lingering kiss. She didn’t know which one of them made the noise, but a low groan filled her ears, repeating her name or was it Miles’ name? Who cares, but please, don’t stop, this kiss can say more than can be said with words; this was so much simpler than talking. Needs and desires passed between them on a crest of saliva. Too soon, Miles disengaged himself. He cupped her face with his hands.

  ‘I love you so much, Kathy, but I can’t stay. Once I thought I couldn’t live without you, but now I know I can. I am going to live without you and away from you. One day I might come back, and we can try again. Or maybe not because I’ve given up hoping, but not caring. No, don’t say anything.’ He placed his hand over her mouth. ‘I will always love you, but if I stay I will start to hate you, and that would be the end of me.’

  He kissed her again, this time without passion, but a pulse shot through her body. Her vaginal muscles cramped and her nipples ached for his touch, but he gently pushed her away.

  ‘Goodbye, Kathy, be happy.’

  Miles turned, and she watched him walk down the alley, at the corner he stopped and looked back. He shrugged, raised a hand in a desultory wave then disappeared into the night.

  Kath’s lips twitched and stretched themselves into a smile, which lengthened into a grin. A giggle welled up inside her and burst forth in a gut-rumbling laugh, which turned into a drawn-out wail. Her face twisted and transformed into a grimace.

  The agony of losing him robbed her of the strength to stand, and she fell to her knees. Her hands gripped the wall tearing her nails and bruising her fingers, but that pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. She let out an anguished howl at the misery of lost chances, of being hurt, and of giving hurt. Leaning her head against the wall, she cried as if she would never stop. There she stayed until Jenny found her.

  why do fools fall in love

  Kath huddled beneath the duvet, she never realised a broken heart would hurt so much. The various heartbreaks she suffered over the winter paled into insignificance; they were mere toothaches compared to this all over body ache. She lay in bed with arms and legs too heavy to move, but shivered like a palsied dog and wept.

  No crying from Miles last night, but plenty from her, the wailing and sobbing stopped somewhere around dawn, and now silent tears ran down her face. Her fingers probed swollen eyes and touched a nose rubbed raw and dusted with dried skin and blood. She mewled but welcomed the physical pain, which proved she was alive and gave her hope that one day she might forget this agony. Not that time meant anything to her. From the moment, Jenny put her in a taxi until now nothing mattered anymore.

  Except for the mental anguish as she remembered all the stupid things she did and the thoughtless things she said. Actions and words that both taunted and haunted her, showing her how weak she had been, and how weak she was still. Too weak to fix the mess she created and too weak to climb out of bed.

  She hoped strength would come and give her the energy to face the world again even if the world did no
t want to face her. The phone remained suspiciously silent, and nobody came hammering on her door. People were leaving her alone, but out of respect for her grief or because no one could stand to be near her?

  Beset by cramp, Kath eventually crawled from her pit and pulled on her dressing gown. She went down to the kitchen. She needed tea, the British standby in any crisis, and the one thing to help her rebuild her life. Her face cracked into a wry smile. Humour had always lifted her up before. Think funny thoughts, tell jokes, she told herself. Tell yourself what a fool you were to let him get away. Tell yourself to shut up and stop this self-induced torture fest.

  She took her cup of tea and a packet of bourbons through to the lounge and curled up on the settee. Instead of trying to think, she decided to eat and concentrated on munching her way through the biscuits. She dunked them in her tea and jammed them in her mouth, scraping up and eating the soggy lumps, which fell into her lap. No more than she deserved.

  The phone rang. Miles! Kath leapt from the chair, spilling biscuits and tea and ran to answer it. A sudden rational thought stopped her as she reached for the receiver. Miles is on his way to Scotland and is unlikely to ring you with a fond farewell. But what if he changed his mind, screamed the remains of her heart, dream on said her head. You drove him away through your own blind stupidity. Kath wished she would show herself a little more sympathy, but her mental hair shirt still chafed at her wounds. Although Miles, precious Miles, left her with some healing salve. If he forgave her, surely there was hope?

  The phone carried on ringing. To answer or not to answer that is the question, but if it wasn’t Miles, who else would be calling her? Kath was not up to any conversation, and stared at the telephone, willing it to stop and at last, it did. As she walked away, the phone rang again. Kath turned and yanked the cable from the wall. Now let it ring.

  She ran a bath and dumped half a box of Radox into the water. A long soak would soothe her body, and loud music would clear her mind. She rummaged through her tape collection and pulled out The Smiths. Kill or cure, she decided, and slid the cassette into the tape deck and pressed play. Instead of Morrissey depressing her she got the bloody Beatles. Wrong tape in the wrong box again, and not even my tape. Kathryn, my flower, who do we know adores the Beatles? Why our old friend Tony Buffery, and who are we meeting today? If today is Sunday the second of March.