by Sue Watson
So, after much shouting and raucous laughter on the pavement from Mandy and co, ‘Terry the taxi’ pulled up and we all piled in. His opening line was to ask politely that we didn’t ‘vomit’ or ‘fight’ in his cab—a request I’ve never received from a taxi driver before or since.
‘Scruples!’ yelled Mandy from underneath a very sleepy Sue. ‘Yeah!’ agreed Toyah and the other girl with over-bleached hair and no bra, who I think must have been the infamous Flick (nose piercing, lipstick tattoo, weakness for blow-up willies).
‘NO!’ I shouted. ‘Sue and I are not going. Sorry, Mand but we have had it.’ I was a bit annoyed because now we had to go all around the town to drop them off at ‘Scruples’ night club before heading home ourselves.
Journeying through the outskirts of the town in the back of Terry’s taxi, we were treated to all kinds of nocturnal activities. Girls weren’t just falling out of night clubs; they were hurling themselves onto pavements one after another like loud, glittery lemmings. I looked away as young lads dropped their trousers and others collapsed in drunken heaps... two girls were jaywalking, clinging to each other and staggering though the night. I watched them anxiously, always a mother, and worried for their safety. I was thinking about Emma and hoping she didn’t pull stunts like that in the middle of the road. I doubted it.
Then I saw him through the crowds, clear as anything: Dan, standing outside a wine bar. I recognised the blond hair, the way he was leaning... I knew that stance so well, the slightly slumped shoulders, the tilt of the head. My heart was in my mouth and I was seriously contemplating leaping out of the moving taxi or at least winding down the window to wave to him. He’d said he was meeting friends for drinks and suddenly I wanted him to see I was young and vital and out on a Saturday night too. Then... someone moved and my heart almost stopped. Through the crowded pavement, I saw her... a pretty young woman. Dan’s arms were around her shoulders, his chin resting on her head, their bodies close. I caught my heart in my throat as the taxi sped through the night. And then they were gone—in one thunderclap moment everything had changed.
My heart felt like a balloon, swollen with water that someone had just burst with a pin. How could I be so stupid? I felt faint, and once we’d passed them, I slowly wound down the window for air and space. I had to deal with this. One night we'd had sex under the stars and tonight he was with someone else. It was clearly all just a game to him; another night, another conquest. It was my own fault; I’d wanted this new life and all the joy and agony that came with it... Well, here comes the agony, I thought, like a great big Bondi Beach wave. Of course he saw other girls—neither of us had said we were exclusive—where on earth did I get that idea? He was cute and affectionate and fond of me... but when did we ever have a conversation about exclusivity? He’d said he liked me, but I now realised I was probably ‘a’ girlfriend, not ‘his’ girlfriend. That’s how people are nowadays—no commitment, no tomorrow. It was all meaningless and I’d been naive and stupid. He was a good-looking, bright thirty-something in a different country, where women were probably throwing themselves at him. Sleeping with him had been a huge moment for me... but that didn’t mean it was for him. Dan was a nice guy, and in my highly vulnerable, hormonal state I’d got it all wrong and assumed it meant more.
How ridiculous; I was behaving like a teenager. I couldn’t stop thinking about them both, and as painful as it was, I had to force myself to accept how ‘right’ they looked together... how I didn’t fit in his world. I went over and over it all in my head, feeling the keenness of the pain. Even though it was only a fleeting glimpse, my mind had photographed the scene and it kept flashing through my head. Like a black-and-white photo you’d see in a magazine advert for designer perfume, their heights were perfectly matched, their bodies both lithe, both sun-kissed... both now Instagrammed in my head forever. The only consolation to my agony was that I’d been dead inside for so long that this was a sign I was alive—and almost better than feeling nothing, as I had for years now.
* * *
I woke the following morning with a terrible hangover and a splattered heart. I went to work and spent the day just going through the motions. Dan texted to ask, ‘Are u free tonight?’ and I had to stop myself texting back to ask, ‘Why—is ur gfriend busy?’
At six p.m. I wandered out onto the still sunlit pavement and strolled slowly past the deli. It closed at five so I didn’t expect to see him, but thought I heard his voice calling me. My finger ends tingled. I hadn’t indulged in a fantasy cocktail with Kevin, Ryan or Brad for weeks, but perhaps all the recent emotional turmoil had affected me more than I’d realised. Christ, the fantasies had taken over reality—instead of Hollywood A-listers I could hear Dan’s voice in my head. I was in real trouble now. But there it was again, unmistakable, with the Australian enunciation, so different... or, as Sue had remarked after she’d met him at the salon, ‘very extinguished’.
I turned to see him running after me from the direction of the deli.
‘Hi, I was just locking up when I saw you. Did you get my text?’ he smiled, out of breath but apparently happy to see me.
I nodded, unsure what to say. I wanted to ask him who he was with last night but it felt like a cliché and I’d sound like a bunny boiler.
Seeing him with the girl had changed everything for me, but his smile and easy manner suggested nothing had changed for him. I looked away from his eyes at the teatime traffic slowly moving down the road. I couldn’t smile; I could barely speak. He was waiting for my embrace, my gushing hello, but I just felt closed off, my arms folded in an attempt at self-preservation. We’d been lovers, which meant everything to silly middle-aged me—but what did that mean in his world?
We walked along slowly, side by side. I couldn’t breathe and he asked me if my muscles ached after skating—a double meaning; he was talking about the sex too.
I shook my head. ‘No, I’m fine.’ I was monotone, refusing to acknowledge the double entendre, the intimacy of our shared secret. We arrived at the park gates and I walked through, assuming he was heading the same way and would walk in with me but he stopped.
‘Faye? Are you okay?’
‘Yes... I’m fine. I’m going for a stroll in the park,’ I offered, trying to sound unfazed and casual, not something I carried off well.
‘I texted to see if you were free tonight. I want to cook for you. I know it’s short notice, but Jen’s not home.’
‘I don’t know, Dan...’
‘Oh... It’s okay if you’re not... I mean... if...’ he looked puzzled.
I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say.
‘Is it something to do with the other night? Me and you... was it too soon?’
‘No.’
‘Then what’s the matter?’
‘I’m not like you,’ I blurted. ‘I can’t sleep with someone and then be with someone else. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I don’t. I don’t know myself and I don’t know you and I’ve given you the wrong impression. I know I said I don’t care about tomorrow and I only want “now” but for me that doesn’t mean I’m okay with sleeping around. I don’t want multiple partners.’
‘You don’t have to have multiple partners,’ he half-laughed, waiting for me to join in.
‘I’m not talking about me!’ I snapped. ‘I’m talking about the conveyor belt of women you seem to have on tap.’
‘What are you talking about?’ He touched my arm, genuinely concerned, he seemed genuinely confused.
‘I saw you... last night in town, with a girl, hugging a girl... a young... girl.’ I was determined not to cry, but was finding it hard. I had changed, hadn’t I? Here was the new Faye who called the shots; she was sexy and in control... I mustn’t lose her now.
He was looking at me like I was crazy. ‘Girl? I was with a... oh... last night. That was Gabby—you must have seen me with Gabby.’
‘I don’t know who it was, but you had your arms around her, you were leaning on each other... which is absolu
tely fine. It’s a free world, you can do what... who you like... but I... I was surprised how it made me feel. I couldn’t believe it—you both stood hugging and...’
‘Yeah, I suppose we were... I can see how it might have looked. She was upset, a little drunk; a guy had dumped her and... me and Gabby go back a long way. She's just a friend, Faye.’
‘She’s just a friend? Do you always hug your friends like that? It looked like more than friends to me, Dan...’
‘Yeah. She’s my ex but that doesn’t mean we can’t be just friends now I told you, we broke up once we got here. It’s tough to let go. We came here together... we’re kind of stuck with each other.’
That made sense, sort of. ‘Look, you can kiss and hug and sleep with who you want... but I can’t deal with that if we’re together.’
‘Faye, you’ve got it all wrong, totally—yes, I probably had my arms round her, it’s what we do. We were friends before we were lovers and now we’re friends again.’
‘It all seems so... loose, like untied shoelaces—lovers one minute, friends the next. How can you make such big changes?’
‘I suppose because... I was never in love.’
‘You can say that now, but seeing you last night with your arms around her...’
‘So why didn’t you come over and yell at me? If you had, you’d have realised I was comforting her. She knows the score. I told you, we broke up after we got here...’
‘Yes, because you met someone else. You seem to do a lot of loving and leaving. But I can’t do it. That isn’t what I signed up for...’ I started to cry. ‘I’m forty-two and I can’t compete with younger, hotter women. My breasts have gone south and... I can’t give you children... not that we are going to have children... I mean...’
‘Oh, dear. I usually ask for a woman’s gynaecological report before I go out on a date, and on this occasion I took it as read that you were fertile and able to breed as and when, so you can imagine my disappointment.’ He was trying to make a joke but, like the first time with the panda hat, I cried even more.
‘I’m almost ten years older than you. What are you... doing with me?’
‘Stop! Faye, I thought you understood? I explained to you that day at the park that I’d ended things with Gabby because I met someone else. Didn’t you get it? That someone else was you.’
Oh, God. When I’d asked if he was ‘seeing’ the woman he left Gabby for, he’d said, ‘You tell me,’ which seemed rather odd at the time. I’d dismissed it, and the kiss that had followed pretty much obliterated everything else.
‘Faye, I don’t care how old you are and I don’t set out to hurt people. I finished with Gabby after going for that beer with you. It might have been just a beer, but after that night I knew it was more than that. I thought about you, missed you, one of your hairs was caught on my jacket and I kept it... weird, I know, and even slightly creepy,’ he smiled, ‘but my point is, I’ve never done that with anyone else’s hair.’
‘It’s probably as well—you’re right, that’s creepy,’ I said, with half a smile.
‘The way you listened to me and the way I felt I could open up to you about my family, my life, I’ve never done that before. Younger, “hotter” women, as you put it, don’t want to know about my family gene, my mother’s death, my brotherly guilt... there aren’t a whole lotta laughs in there... But you listened, you cared.’
I realised in that moment I had completely misread what I saw on the street, and I was surprised to see how desperate he was to prove there was nothing. I opened my arms and we embraced. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry; I really thought you... I’ve had the worst twenty-four hours of my life, just thinking you didn’t care... that I was a notch on your bedpost.’
‘I’m sorry you went through that, but I have friends who are girls... pretty girls, some I’ve been out with. I won’t lie; in the past I probably would have slept with one or two women at the same time and called it ‘an overlap’, kidding myself it was okay. But not with you, Faye. Not anymore.’
I pulled away and, holding him slightly at arm’s length, I looked directly into his eyes. ‘I know you have lots of female friends, but I’m from a different world. I was married until a few months ago and I don’t have male friends, so it takes a little getting used to. I don’t want to clip your wings, Dan... but if we’re going to continue to have sex, it has to be exclusive, even if it’s only for a week.”
‘I want that too. I can’t bear to think of you with anyone else. I’ve never felt that before either.’ He reached out for my hand and I let his fingers curl tentatively around mine.
‘Okay... no overlaps?’ I said.
He nodded and we kissed, there in the bright evening sunshine with people walking past. It felt tantalisingly bad and wholly inappropriate—which made it even better.
‘So. Are we okay... you and me?’ he asked.
‘Yeah... I think so. But just so I understand, where is Gabby now?’
‘She’s away in Scotland, then she’s off to Europe. We have some other mates who are travelling and she’s going with them. I’ve decided to stay here.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I told you... I kinda met someone,’ he laughed, grabbing me around the waist and kissing my neck.
I was torn between feeling very relieved and very stupid. I’d given Glenn Close a good run for her money in the world’s biggest bunny boiler award but it had also made me realise how vulnerable I was. It never ceased to amaze me how being with Dan awoke feelings long forgotten. Jealousy, lust, learning to love and trust someone again were all feelings that had been lost, buried in years of marriage and motherhood. I was now rediscovering little bits of me, piece by piece, uncovering the sands of time and obligation and duty and guilt—and believing in myself all over again.
‘So you’ll come over, tonight?’ he breathed into my hair.
‘Yeah,’ I breathed back, hearing my own voice husky with desire.
We said goodbye and I walked home alone, wanting to skip and wave my arms in the air, but realising that would look rather strange. There were some things I probably still couldn’t do. Shouldn’t do. I took out the postcard from my handbag and looked into that picture and wondered who would be with me when I finally got to that rooftop in the city that never sleeps? Could I dare to even hope it might be Dan?
* * *
Sue was as excited as me when she came home from work and I was trying on clothes.
‘Oh, it’s all working out for you, love,’ she smiled, watching like a proud mum as I painted my nails a lovely nude shade. I hadn’t painted my nails since the previous summer, partly because as a hairdresser it was pointless—the varnish came off with all the hair washing—and also because no one noticed, least of all me.
Over the past few weeks, I’d ticked another thing off my living list without really trying, and that was to lose ten pounds. Sue said it was ‘the divorce diet’ and she’d done the same when she and Ken split. I reckoned it was down to love and life chaos too, but whatever it was, I could now squeeze into Emma’s old jeans, and I’d recently bought a new pale blue T-shirt, which Sue and Mandy said made me look ‘less frumpy’.
I’d been surprised when they’d said that. ‘Do I usually look frumpy?’ I’d asked. They’d both nodded; ‘But you’ve made a start—leaving Craig has taken ten years off you, love.’
‘That’s the only trouble with having a younger man,’ Sue said as she did my hair that evening. ‘You need to be on your toes, love—casual, flirty fashion... but no mutton.’
‘That’s the last thing I want. Oh, I wish I’d met him when I was ten years younger,’ I sighed.
‘Yeah, but he’d have been twenty-three, love, and that’s too young even for you... cradle snatcher.’ We laughed at that but it did sting a little. Where was I going with this guy? He was heading home in a couple of months and it was thousands of miles away, even if we considered a future together, the age difference would matter. I know he joked about it when I said I
couldn’t give him a child, but he was so young! One day he might want that; he might want a family, a young wife and all that went with it.
I decided not to dwell on that side of things. It wasn’t going to be an issue because we’d both have to go our separate ways soon. I decided to put all negative thoughts to the back of my mind, pack it in the suitcase with the old photos, the living list and the scarlet silk dress.
Sue had put my hair up in a soft, messy ‘updo’ and lent me a string of blue glass beads to go with the T-shirt.
‘Do I look okay? Or like a frumpy forty-something?’
‘Stop putting yourself down; I’ve told you, you’re gorgeous,’ she squealed, squirting half her bottle of ‘Flower Bomb’ all over me. I couldn’t sneeze for laughing or laugh for sneezing, which wrecked my mascara and added even more ‘messy updo’ to my lovely hair style.
I didn’t care. It was ten to eight and I wasn’t going to waste any more precious time messing with my hair when I had so much life to live. I didn’t feel the need to dress up or play games with Dan; we were friends first—and, besides, he seemed to like me for being me... messy hair, life in limbo and filter permanently off.
Pulling up at the large, Victorian terraced house on the tree-lined street, I was surprised I’d never been down here before as it was only half a mile away from my house... or what had been my old house. It was a lovely summer evening; the birds were singing in the trees and I felt an incredible sense of freedom, my head and heart full of promise as I skipped up the step, a smile on my face and a bottle of Ken’s good wine under my arm.
Dan opened the door, his face lighting up as he saw me. The smell of warm tomatoes and garlic wafted down the hall, adding to the warm welcome. It was perfect—a beautiful moment of expectation and infinite possibilities that I would keep forever. I often think about that night; like a pebble in my pocket I secretly caress the smoothness, reliving the memory through my fingertips.