'Been waiting long?' he asked, turning round to the woman.
'All my life,' she said, and smirked.
'I know what you mean.'
A silence descended then, and to Alan it seemed as if the entire world consisted of the shelter, with nothing going on outside. Eventually, he broke the silence. 'I'm Alan,' he said.
'Jay.'
'So you've been waiting all your life?'
'That's right; and who knows, when one comes, two more might come up behind it.'
Alan laughed at the analogy, even though he didn't feel like laughing inside. 'It can't be that bad,' he said.
'You're a lying, cheating bastard!'
Jay was surprised by the ferocity of her anger. It came up from some deep centre; from some place she had never been before. But how else could she react, once she knew what Rod had done?
Rod was tall and muscular; the perfect He-man - the man she had thought was It. But now, aware what he had done, he seemed to crumple before her very eyes.
'It was only the once,' he said. 'One night of weakness.'
An image of Rod pumping some Slapper arose in Jay's head. 'But you went with her!' she screamed, raising her arm and slapping him, hard, over the face.
'For God's sake, Jay, you've got to forgive me. I love you so much.'
'Obviously not enough to keep it in your trousers, you lying, cheating bastard.'
Rod crumpled some more. A red weal covered his left cheek and his eyes were beginning to water.
'For God's sake, don't cry,' said Jay. 'Don't destroy the man image completely.' A sense of revulsion seemed to be arising in her, now. And the thought struck her: how the hell did I ever fall for this creep?
In a rush of activity, Jay ran into the bedroom, took down her bag, began opening her drawers one by one, a pile of clothes forming on the bed.
Rod said: 'What you doing?'
'I'm leaving you.'
'You can't. You've got to forgive me.'
'Forgive you? You must be joking.'
Alan had listened to her story in silence. He had always had the knack of getting women to confide in him. Maybe he seemed so secure; secure, with an edge of the thoughtful. Indeed, that was maybe why, by the time Jay had finished speaking, she had her head on his shoulder.
He hugged her, affectionately. 'So here you are,’ he said.
'Yea,' said Jay. 'Here I am, no home, no man, no life. But I had to get out.'
Another silence descended as they sat there, together.
Eventually, Jay broke the silence, looked into Alan's eyes. 'What about you?' she said.
'But you're never in now. I never see you. My whole life seems to be one of waiting for you to come home. And when you do, it's different.'
Alan couldn't believe he had uttered those words. What a wimp it made him. What the hell was happening to his life?
Amanda thought the same. She looked puzzled, her flashbacks of the confident man she had met evaporating with each word he spoke.
'But Alan, I've only got myself a job.'
'It may only be a job to you, but to me, you've completely changed.'
'Don't be ridiculous,' said Amanda. 'I'm me, just the same person.'
'There you go again, contradicting me. Everything I say must be wrong nowadays. You never used to be like that with me. I was your best friend, your guide, the only real thing in your life.'
'You still are, darling, but ...’
'Yes? But what?'
'Well ... I had to get a job. I was losing the sense of who I was. I had to DO something, or I'd have cracked up.'
'And now you have. And you've changed.'
'No Alan, I haven't. Not like you mean. Maybe, when we met, and I gave up work, I changed then. Lost my confidence. All that's happened is I'm now the person you met.'
'Well I don't like her.'
'But Alan, it's the person you fell in love with.'
'But it isn't the person I want to be with now. I'm sorry Amanda, I've had enough. We're finished.'
'And you think you did right?'
That's the whole point, thought Alan. He wasn't sure at all. But as he sat there, in the bus station, a beautiful girl in his arms, he wasn't really sure he cared.
'I guess it must have been more than that,' he said. 'Maybe it was just an excuse. It just didn't seem right any more.'
Jay said: 'But what is right?'
Alan laughed. A wicked laugh. And he looked deep into Jay's eyes. 'I don't know. Maybe this is.'
He was shocked by his words - the second time that night he had been shocked. But he just couldn't help it. It seemed so right.
And Jay felt right, too. How she had got here, she had no idea. But here she was in the arms of a stranger with no one else about, and a strange hotness arising within her.
'Have you ever thought that some things are meant?' she said, but Alan was in no mood to answer. And no answer was expected. Instead, they kissed. And as he pushed her down on to the bench, even that seemed absolutely right as well.
It was late when they finished, and they both knew that no bus was corning. Embarrassed, they re-arranged their clothes. And as they stood up, they shook hands, smiled, and went off in their own ways back to home, the junction to Normalville empty once more, but waiting, always, for more lives to sort out.
HELL BOUND
When Rose Fidelity returned home she felt guilty, but, in a way, ecstatic. She had never done anything like that before, and being nearly midnight, she couldn’t even remember a night when she had been home so late. Approaching forty eight years of age, Rose suddenly realised a new woman was emerging from over twenty five years of marriage.
As she entered her living room, Roger, her husband, said: ‘You’re late,’ a hint of worry in his voice. And his alarm was heightened when Rose took off her coat, revealing her, and Roger’s, favourite plunging neckline.
Roger was taken aback by this. Rose had kept her youth well, and was still a desirable woman. ‘What on earth have you been doing, dear?’ he asked, puzzled.
Rose thought of an easy way to say it, but was suddenly lost for ideas. Holding her head up, she said: ‘I’ve been with Bradley.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Roger. ‘And what do you mean by with?’
‘Having sex, husband, dear,’ said Rose. ‘I’ve been having the most exciting lay of my life.’
It took several seconds for the news to sink in; and perhaps a couple more for Roger’s first-tear to flow.
In a way, he’d been expecting it. Things hadn’t gone right for some time now. It was the next morning and Roger Fidelity tried to think it all out as he walked to work. He even knew what the final straw was …
‘I’m moving out,’ Jonny, their youngest, had said a fortnight ago.
Roger had been rather pleased by this declaration. Their daughter, Amanda, had already gone, and was happily married and heavily pregnant. Now that Jonny had felt the need to fly the nest, he and Rose could finally get on with their lives.
Rose had felt different, of course. ‘But all the bills, the responsibility. You’re so young.’
When Jonny had finally left, he’d kissed his mother on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry mum. You’ll still see me a lot; and I love you.’
But no matter how much Roger tried to instil a feeling of new life, Rose simply looked around an empty house and thought: ‘What now …’
Well, thought Roger, we know what, now, don’t we? Bradley, that so called family friend ….
‘How could you?’ he had asked the previous night, as the news sank in.
Rose stroked her husband’s face. ‘I never wanted to hurt you,’ she said, ‘but I have needs.’ She walked to the cupboard; took out the family photo album. ‘Look through it, Roger. Tell me what you see.’
Roger flicked through the album. ‘I see a loving family; a family happy with itself, and with life.’
‘And that’s true,’ said Rose. ‘But the family’s gone now. And take that away and what’s left?’
‘There is not one single picture in that album that says we are a couple. That went when we had kids. And I’m not sure, after all these years, we can recreate it.’
Roger was approaching work now. He was a successful office manager, and had a boring, normal life to go with it. Until now, of course. But then again, could it be that Rose was right?
‘Morning, Mr Fidelity,’ said Jessie, his secretary, as he walked into his office.
Roger returned the greeting, aware of the look she always gave him; aware of what this not unattractive woman thought of him. After all, she had played up to him enough. And it was to his eternal shame, he thought, that he often fantasized of actually having her.
But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? He was getting on; the body was beginning to fail … he couldn’t. He was happily married. But suddenly he remembered that he wasn’t. And because he had had these fantasies, perhaps he hadn’t been happily married for some time …
‘Jessie,’ he called, ‘can you come in here, please. I’ve got something for you.’
Roger and Rose Fidelity packed at the same time that night. What the future held for them both, neither of them really knew. Perhaps they were both too old to begin again, but it was clear to them that neither could continue as they were. There was a huge vacuum in both their lives, and even Roger, as he made love to a girl twenty years younger than him, realised this in the end. Indeed, he had never performed so long, and so frantically, in his life. As the slowly developing pain in his groin testified.
Of course, Roger and Rose kept in touch over the following months – they were still good friends – but they had new lives now; lives which they were determined to enjoy. But to every dream of happiness, there is a cloud …
‘Well I think it’s disgusting,’ a heavily pregnant Amanda said as she slumped in her father’s new flat. Jessie was hovering about, picking up the hostile glares from her lover’s daughter.
Roger limped over to his daughter. ‘But our marriage is over, dear, please understand. And try to be happy for us.’
Amanda snarled. ‘Happy? You must be joking. Look at you? You’re not a young man, and you’re wasting away in front of my eyes.’
‘That’s ridiculous, Amanda, and you know it.’
‘Don’t come that tone with me,’ Amanda retorted. ‘Your life is pathetic, and no way do you get the respect for a father from me.’
‘And do you speak to your mother like that?’
‘Mother?’ queried Amanda. ‘Some mother, rushing over to see me to check that her make-up is alright. For God’s sake, you’re both nearly fifty. Start acting like it, and not a bunch of twenty year olds.’
She was, of course, correct.
When Rose had raced to her daughter for help, it had not been the whim of a twenty year old Amanda had thought. She had known Bradley to be a smoothie, but that didn’t matter a damn, at the time. He took her on a roller-coaster of ecstasy, and that was all that mattered. But now, several months down the line …
‘I’m getting bored, Rose,’ he had said. ‘I don’t know how much longer we can go on.’
And to stop boredom, Rose Fidelity sold her soul to the devil. And she rung every ounce of desirability out of herself that she could.
Roger was having problems of a different kind. Jessie was demanding, and despite the doctor squeezing his testicles and advising a truss lay in the future, he knew what he had to do to keep her. And even the Viagra only worked for a while.
The lies had come out on the afternoon they had bumped into each other and decided to have a quick drink. ‘How’s life,’ Rose had said to Roger.
‘Brilliant,’ he replied.
And vice versa, the lies continuing as Roger limped away and Rose hid her face to sniff back the tear.
But to every sad tale there must be redemption.
The sounds of Amanda’s screams filtered into the waiting room as Roger and Rose sat expectantly. Rose said: ‘It’s going to be a girl, you know.’
Roger wasn’t having that. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, ‘it’s so obviously a boy. Listen to those screams.’
They both laughed at that, and both were touched by a familiarity of old. Somehow it seemed so right. But how could it be other than a stupid, temporary feeling? After all, they had been through so much of late.
Within hours they were stood by Amanda’s bed, greedily passing the new born amongst themselves. Finally, the midwife came in. Said: ‘Time for mother and baby to have some rest now.’
Roger and Rose Fidelity walked out of the room awkwardly. Outside the hospital, they stood, not knowing, really, what to do. Finally, Roger said: ‘Your car or mine?’
Rose smiled, and said his. Gran and Grandad drove home, the vacuum filled by their grandson; and another new life to begin.
BAR AT THE END OF THE ROAD
I found the bar at the end of the highway. It wasn’t that I was looking for it. I wasn’t really looking for anything. I just felt so empty, so totally drained.
I got out the car and went in – ordered a drink – drank it down – ordered another. Thought about how easily I could hit oblivion.
The bar was almost empty, too. It reflected back my life, a life ignored, a life abused, a life of boredom …
It had promised so much, had marriage.
She had been wonderful, and we were so perfectly attuned, perfectly as one, and I was so perfectly …
What? Deluded? Not seeing reality for what it was? Not registering the crap that would soon begin to fly?
It had been one hell of an argument …
The third drink went down the same way as the others. Oblivion was coming closer – and I ordered another.
‘And I’ll have one, too.’
I turned round; wondered where SHE’D come from. Unable to believe I’d missed her as I entered.
I bought her a drink. And it was inevitable we would talk – about my problems, about her life, about the meaning of everything. Until, several drinks later, she advised she had a room upstairs …
It was a heady mixture of booze and expectation as I entered her room. Hormones pumped through my body and I was ready as I took her in my arms.
Maybe it was the shock of what I was about to do, but it was then that I burst into tears – torrents of tears, pouring down my face, washing away the stresses and strains of so long, cascading away to …
To what?
To another girl’s arms, at the end of another highway? And as we both said sorry, we cried together, and kissed.
GOING BACK
I couldn’t remember what life was like without her. Boring is an understatement. It was as if I lacked confidence, and had become a non-person. But when she came along, with that gorgeous smile and sexy dress, and gave me the time of my life, and said that she loved me, and wanted to be with me forever …
We moved into a flat together quickly, knowing what we both wanted, and I had the confidence to rise above my previous life. Suddenly I was a success at everything I did, and I knew I had her to thank.
Of course, it wasn’t all rosy. There were her black moods, where I got a hint of her past, and I knew there were deep secrets back there. Indeed, not only secrets, but things she wanted to forget – bad times that had left her the pessimist. I tried to convince her she had everything, but although she could put on a brave face – infact, she appeared the perfect good time girl – underneath she was a wreck.
I suppose this story really begins the day I returned from a business trip to find her gone. Where she had gone, I had no idea, but when she didn’t return after a couple of days, I got worried. I did all the usual things – police, hospitals – but nothing. And it was then I decided to look into her past haunts – put together the pieces she had told me about and trace her.
Well, I managed it – eventually. After speaking to people from her past – realizing she was a woman used by the world. Even her sensuality, her smile, turned
out to be a defence mechanism, a mask – and a persona she had learnt how to use, to survive – and, yes, even to pretend for a while.
It was a seedy bar I eventually found her in. When she noticed me, her face seemed to go blank. ‘Why did you leave me?’ I asked.
Well, her answer said it all. She said that she’d loved me; thought she’d found the right guy – and eventually that she couldn’t destroy me.
‘But I could have given you everything, and we had so much to give each other.’
But despite her conflicting emotions, she couldn’t rise above that damn pessimism. And no matter how hard I tried, I knew I’d never get her back.
What eventually happened to her, I have no idea – except, of course, that she would never be happy. Her mission in life was, I suppose, to be used. Her own mind guaranteed that. She was the ultimate victim – a casualty of life whose own attitude guaranteed that it would happen again and again. And even when it seemed she could escape, she just could not believe it.
I never got over her. I came to terms with what she was and moved on. And in a strange way, her effect on me was profound. It was as if I took the share of optimism she should have had, and became a success.
If only she could be here to share it.
WHEN WINTER COMES
Everything changes when Winter comes. I’d said it every time – every damn time. I looked out at the last days of a late Summer, knowing it wouldn’t be long now.
Why did it have to change? Didn’t I deserve a break?
I looked into Julia’s eyes and I could see that she sensed it, too. These late Summer days had become so important to us. She was a sun worshipper and I’d spend hours watching her soaking it up in her swim suit. It was a tranquil time, alone, joyous during the day and passionate at night, with nothing to disturb us in these brief respites.
But soon Winter would be here and it would all change. Both of us wished it could be different, but knew it never could. There was too much to lose. So it would continue like this, year in, year out, the late Summer dashed when Winter comes.
And eventually came the day. I packed. Departed. Returned to my other life – as John Winter, her husband, arrived home.
I, Romantic Page 2