by Ella Craig
‘Tony!’ Kath clutched at her hair. She was supposed to be in the Old Mill House eight o’clock. A tacky pub, all pretentious brass and pine décor with plastic plants and stuffed animals, but a place where neither of them was likely to be recognised. She checked the time, a quarter past seven.
A quick bath and a long bus ride and she should be there by nine, buggered if she was paying for a taxi both ways. Somehow, she doubted Tony would be in the mood to drive her home after she finished with him. Finished, now there’s a prophetic word, with a twisted grin, Kath tried to make herself as presentable as possible.
She wormed her way into the pub. Why do people insist on standing in doorways? Kath irritably pushed through to the lounge to find a band setting up with their equipment taking over most of the floor space. Amplifiers, drums and guitars forced people to stand against the walls, while the lead singer, all back-combed, black hair and kohl’d eyes, practised his scales in a wobbly falsetto. Marvellous, telling Tony their relationship was over while serenaded by goths. How surreal, or ironic considering Tony’s awful Valentine’s Day proposal.
Kath found him sitting in a corner. She waved and his face split into a goofy grin. In the dim light of the pub, he looked fat and shiny. She must be hallucinating because he seemed solid, larger than life, inflating before her eyes. This was Tony in twenty years’ time. A blood warm hand took hers, and clammy lips touched her cheek.
‘You are here, at last,’ he said. ‘I kept ringing your place and got no answer. I wondered if something had happened.’
‘Something has happened, Tony, but we can’t talk in here, let’s go outside.’ Business like and practical she manoeuvred him into the garden. Wrapped in their coats, they sat on the swings in the children’s play area. Kath refused to sit in the car not wanting to be trapped in a metal box. It was safer out here in the moonlight. She sniffed the damp air coming up from the river. The noise from the pub faded into the background and Tony shrank back to his normal size.
‘I have something for you.’ He rooted through his pockets. Kath was filled with dread when she realised what was coming. He pressed a tiny box into her hand. Inside, the ring lay on a bed of dark velvet. Moonlight washed the colour from the gold, but the opals sparkled with frigid warmth. Kath closed the lid and took a deep breath.
‘I can’t take this ring.’ She handed it back to him.
‘Why not? You know what this ring means, don’t you?’
‘Yes, and I can’t keep it.’ She took another breath, ‘Tony, it’s over between us.’
‘Over, what do you mean, over?’
Kath closed her ears to the anguish in his voice. ‘Exactly what I said, I can’t marry you.’ She tried to keep her voice neutral, not wanting him to hear her growing distaste for him. She reeled off the reasons as if she were reading a shopping list. ‘I cannot take you away from your wife, and I will not hurt your children. Your duty is to your family. You must stay with Jackie.’ Now she was getting preachy, but there was no other way to tell him apart from with the bald truth.
‘You can’t do this to me; you will ruin everything.’ Tony put the box back in his pocket. ‘How can I live with Jackie? I don’t want her; I want you. Kathy, I love you.’
‘I don’t love you anymore.’ She did love him once, but with a schoolgirl kind of love of breathless passion, all flighty and up in the air. Not with the strong, steady heartbeat that allows a couple to grow together, but realising this did not make her current situation any easier. ‘Tony, what we did was wrong. It never occurred to me at the time because I forgot everything else but you.’
‘So did I, and that is when I knew we were meant for each other.’
‘We were selfish and stupid.’
‘You’ve changed. You’ve become hard and brittle. What’s wrong with you?’
‘I grew up and stopped thinking of myself. Now I think of other people, and how the things I do affect them. Hurt them.’
‘Where does that leave me? You aren’t thinking of me at the moment.’
‘This is hurting me as much as it is hurting you.’ Kath struggled to hold back a wild burst of laughter at such a trite but true cliché. This was not the time and place to become hysterical. She gripped the rusty chains of the swing to restrain herself. ‘What about your children? You left your first two to grow up without a father. You cannot do the same to your other three. I won’t be a part of something like that.’
‘My children are my life.’ He spoke with pride and love.
Kath stared up at the moon, gleaming like a colourless opal. The sharp moonbeams added steel to her sense of purpose and gave her the strength to carry on. She turned to look at Tony; he sat with his head in his hands. Was he crying? Kath had no tears left. All cried out. Who said that? Oscar Wilde? Confucius? Alison Moyet? Tears were an outward sign, and Kath discovered when they dry up you continue to cry on the inside. That hurt more than she believed possible. She had a sudden urge to hug Tony and let him know he was not alone, but common sense prevailed, and she sat quietly waiting for his tears to stop. There was a distance growing between them, and soon they would be far enough apart from each other to say goodbye and walk away.
She and Tony, pushed through an emotional wringer, emerging battered and bleeding, but they survived. Tony had a marriage to save, and if he did, Jackie and her three children would not go through hell. There would be balance again with past misery cancelled out by the promise of future happiness. She nodded her satisfaction and returned her gaze to the moon.
‘I want to hate you, but I can’t. I will always love you, Kathy.’
That hurt, he couldn’t have done more damage if he smashed her face against a brick wall.
‘I’m sorry.’ How many times had she said that word? It never got easier to say, and each time she meant it. Sorry.
‘So am I. I guess I should never have asked you out in the first place.’
‘I should have played harder to get.’
They smiled at each other, the attraction as strong as ever with the distance between them closing. How easy to forget this conversation ever happened, pick up the pieces and carry on. Until the next crisis of conscience and the next one after that, with an effort of will, Kath froze him out.
‘This is serious. You want to end it, don’t you?’ He looked at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. ‘Christ, Kathy, don’t do this to me, I can’t live without you.’ He broke down again.
She held him as a mother holds her child, cooing words of comfort and smoothing his hair. She braced her legs and used her body weight to start a soothing, rocking motion with their swings. He sobbed that his heart and his life would be in pieces because of her, only the children kept him with Jackie. Until you meet a new bit of skirt, Kath thought.
A feeling of resentment surged up inside her. This man crying on her shoulder had a wife to go home to and had his adored and adoring children. He blamed her for ruining his life, but with this man’s help, Kath managed to if not ruin, at least make unpleasant, the lives of two men. One of whom she now realised she loved but had irretrievably lost, and in doing so, earned herself the undying hatred of many of her friends. Adultery was a game with no winners; it was a matter of seeing who came out with the most. In this round, Kath had gone straight to gaol with orders not to pass Go and not to collect £200.
At last, Tony stopped crying. Kath pushed him away with more force than necessary setting up a ragged Newton’s cradle effect. She dug her feet in and came to a shuddering halt. Tony’s swing lost its momentum, and she was no longer buffeted by Buffery. She rubbed her thigh, would this man ever stop causing her pain? She hoped she was not as cruel to Tony as she had been to both Darren and Miles.
Tony would get over her, Jackie would see to that. He was already accepting the inevitable. Kath suspected only his dented pride kept him fighting to the last. She didn’t care; she wanted to go home, lick her wounds and begin the pointless process of rebuilding her own life.
‘It’s time
for me to go, my last bus is due. Are you OK to drive?’
‘Yeah.’ He sounded like he didn’t care anymore.
‘I’ll be off then. Goodbye Tony, we had some good times together, and I’m sorry it ended this way.’ Sorry! Always back to that wretched word. ‘Try and be happy, Tony.’ She heard Miles in the echo of those words. Last night, tonight, nothing ever changes, thought Kath.
She walked away leaving Tony sat on the swing. She had to get away before the pain became too much for her to bear. While she waited for the bus, she thought she heard Tony’s final cries of desperation. It rang in her ears and seemed to reverberate around her head.
‘Single to the bus station, is it? I love you, Kathy,’ said the bus driver.
‘Come and sit with us, we can show you a good time. Don’t leave me, Kathy,’ leered a group of boys on the back seats.
Kath sought out the moon again. Through the bus window, she saw it, a silver disc bouncing along the sky in time with the bus. Maybe now was the time to practice celibacy and leave the boyfriend stuff alone for a while. I’ve been greedy, making Darren and Miles wait in the wings whilst I acted out my Theatre of the Absurd with Tony. Kath bit her cheeks and spent the rest of the journey battling an insane urge to yelp with laughter.
it might as well rain until september
‘Kath, uh, hi, um, sorry, love to talk, but we are in a hurry. I’ll call you back, bye.’ The phone was slammed down before Kath had a chance to say anything. You two are always going out whenever I ring, Kath thought sourly, and you never bother to phone me back. It looked like she could strike Dan and Sue from her Christmas card list.
‘Kath! Allie’s not in, but I’ll tell her you rang.’ Not even a goodbye this time. She must be persona non grata in Mickey and Allie’s household as well, which would explain why Allie never returned her calls.
‘Hello, this is Barry Richards. I can’t be bothered to answer the telephone right now. So, please leave a message after the tone, and if you are important enough, I may get back to you.’ The last bit was telling. Kath had not spoken to Barry since the night Miles left town although not for the want of trying. How many messages had she left? Enough for her to realise her popularity rating had taken a severe knocking.
‘Kathy, how nice of you to call, but I can’t stop I am on my way to karate. I’m sure John would talk to you, but he isn’t here, and as you probably noticed, we sent you to Coventry for being such a horrid little girl. Cheerio.’ Cow, but desperate times don’t always call for desperate measures; only a fool would try to elicit any sympathy from Liz.
That left Julie and Jenny, but Kath doubted Julie would be much help, although she could give her tips for the creation and sewing on of a scarlet letter. Jenny still kept in touch when her research project with Jim allowed. A series of setbacks absorbed all Jenny’s time with the latest problem having something to do with funding or annoying the wrong person on the Council. Kath could never remember which led to Jenny accusing her of being a self-centred old mare who didn’t give a toss about other people’s problems. That stung, but the truth hurts, and Kath found it ever more difficult to find the energy to care about anything but her own miserable life.
Her grief and guilt over Miles nagged at her with a rheumatic twinge that crippled her soul. As for Tony, she heard nothing from him since they split up. This was one less worry, but Tony appearing to stare at her with a beseeching look in his eyes would do wonders for her self-esteem. It was a selfish dream on her part. Far better, for she and Tony to avoid all contact, but the speed with which he forgot her seemed indecent. Like a widow marrying within weeks after the death of a beloved spouse.
A series of chance sightings of Tony in town did not improve Kath’s mood. All the time they were a couple; she never once bumped into him, and now he popped up every time she went shopping. Tony and Jackie coming out of a travel agency with a bundle of glossy brochures, and deep in conversation. Two days later, she spotted the whole family sitting in the window of the Wimpy bar laughing as they fed each other fries. And, the worst one, seeing Jackie and Tony standing outside Mothercare laden with bags. Had Jackie taken advice from her mother? That would explain Tony’s recent behaviour or lack of it. Kath kept telling herself: this is what you wanted Tony and Jackie back together, so stop being such a dog in a manger.
She avoided town as much as possible as March morphed into a frolicsome April. Leaves appeared on the trees and flowers blossomed, but Kath still lived in the heart of winter. She gave up trying to contact her friends because there didn’t seem to be any point and the constant rebuffing drained her of energy. She needed all her strength for her college work what with her finals in May, and her own research project to complete.
Kath now spent every Tuesday at college. No more mitching off to see a man, she was there from nine in the morning until nine in the evening and paying attention. She wrote up her assignments within days and devoted all her spare time to her studies. Even going as far as to construct a detailed revision plan, which she pinned to the kitchen wall and, through sheer bloody-mindedness, she stuck to her self-imposed timetable.
A second-class honours degree loomed large, or an upper second if she put in a Herculean effort. Her tutors expressed both amazement and pleasure at the change in her work. The accolades and praise went a long way towards healing her wounded feelings. It was gratifying to know she could do one thing right in this world.
Life became simple and trial free, she woke up, studied for an hour then went to work. After work, she studied for another two hours and made sure she was in bed by ten o’clock. On Saturdays, she did the housework and shopping, and for a treat, rented a video for the evening. She spent Sundays with her parents and her only other distractions comprised of two sessions a week in the gym and an aerobics class. Her reason being she needed a healthy body for a healthy mind.
College became her life, and she resented intrusions of any kind. She saw less of Jenny, and when she did, Kath was vague and distracted. Contact dwindled to the odd phone call, and Kath neither minded nor cared. Her focus was the last Friday in May, the day of her final exam. This intense devotion to studying meant no time to think of Tony, Miles or Darren, or to ponder over her stupid mistakes. She literally worked it out of her system.
It came to something of an anti-climax in May. Throughout the exam period, a calm Kath oozed serenity. The papers held no surprises; she was too well prepared and, unlike other candidates, her desk was free from lucky gonks. Neither did she use rituals involving the desktop placement of pens to appease the Gods. Three months of hard graft paid off, and she breezed through the last exam, finishing with half an hour to spare. She left the hall, ignoring the surprised looks of those still frantically scribbling, and breezed on down to the pub to wait for her fellow students. They were meeting for either celebrations or commiserations but definitely inebriation.
Two pints of bitter, after months of abstinence, went straight to her head and her bladder as she staggered to the loo for the third time in an hour. Alcohol crashed through her system and swept away the debris of the last few months. The tension and the manic concentration that kept her going melted away and, to her surprise, she didn’t collapse. The world wobbled, but it didn’t fall over. She felt strong enough to face life again.
Tony and Darren receded into the past leaving vestigial traces of guilt for those special occasions when she had a great need to torment herself. The loss of Miles still hurt, that would take a long time to get over, but now she felt whole and relaxed. I've finally stopped feeling sorry for myself Kath realised. She returned to the table and grinned at her college mates. They replied with smiles or frowns, depending on their optimism for the forthcoming results.
She raised her third pint to them. ‘Here’s to a shed load of hard work and passes for everyone.’
There was a chorus of cheers.
‘What grade did you get for your project presentation?’ One of her classmates asked. Emily or Amelia, Kath never rememb
ered her name and avoided her whenever possible.
‘An A,’ Kath couldn’t keep the smugness out of her voice. ‘A just reward for all the work I did.’
‘I don’t doubt the effort you made,’ Emily/Amelia glowered at her. ‘However, the topic you chose was somewhat frivolous, proving the average laboratory is capable of producing pure LSD; we are supposed to be chemists, not drug addicts.’
‘You did yours on extracting salicylic acid from willow bark to make aspirin. If that isn’t a drug, what is?’
‘Aspirin is not an illegal drug, and I took an academic approach to my presentation. What was with the Led Zeppelin music and stupid film clips in yours?’
‘To make science informative and entertaining, sometimes we take ourselves too seriously.’
‘Science is not for fun!’
‘Don’t be so uptight, Emily,’ a voice called out. ‘Kath made me laugh.’
‘I liked her joke about the chemical elements,’ someone else added. ‘What is Dysprosium, a rare earth metal or difficulty in passing urine?’
A small wave of laughter passed around the table, but Emily sat with a disapproving look on her face. She turned the conversation to a discussion on post-graduate studies and career progression.
‘What about you, Kathryn? Any plans to carry on, now you are such a model student?’ Emily’s eyes narrowed with ill-concealed contempt.
‘I am considering all options,’ Kath lied. ‘But, for the time being, I am just glad to get my life back.’
She snatched up her drink and put it down again. Did she really want her old life back, assuming she could pick up where she left off? Was it time to make new friends and start again? She looked at her fellow students, people she had been with on and off for three years. Frankly, most of them bored the tits off her. Kath wanted her old friends back. She wanted to laugh with people she understood and who understood her. Time to regain her place in the sun; if work and no play make Jack a dull boy, Kath was positively colourless. The bright lights of friendship called her, she pushed aside her unfinished pint, bade everyone farewell, and went home.