by Chris Cheek
“I swear I didn’t know when I married you, Mona. You have to believe me. Alan and I had fooled about once, on the night before he left for London, but that was months before you and I got married. I didn’t see him or exchange one single word with him from the day he left until a few weeks ago, until that morning when he got on my bus in Leeds. And there was certainly nobody else. It was just… Seeing him again brought it all back. How close we’d been as boys, how I’d missed him when he first went off to London. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re sorry? Is that to be my consolation for wasting six bloody years of my life? Led down the aisle so that you could have cover? So that you could prove that you were a man?”
“Mona, I…”
“Don’t you Mona me, David Edgeley. How could you? How could you pretend you loved me when all you were doing was dreaming of Alan bloody Foreshaw?”
“But it wasn’t like that! I did – do – love you. We’ve had some good times together and you’ve been a good wife to me, Mona. Never think otherwise, please.”
She scrunched her face up and wriggled with distaste, curling her lip. “It makes me feel dirty. Thinking of all the times we made love, that you didn’t really want me at all. Now I come to think of it, I suppose that was why you didn’t want to do it often, wasn’t it?”
David shook his head. “It wasn’t like that, Mona. Please stop saying things like that.”
“Are you really telling me that you enjoyed it, then, David? Because I don’t bloody believe you. Can you stand there and tell me that you didn’t think of him when you were with me?”
He wanted to lie, to tell her that it wasn’t true. But he knew it was, particularly lately, and he stammered slightly and blushed, muttering, “Only since I saw him again.”
“Have you any idea how that makes me feel, David? After all this time? I was nothing more than some sort of substitute for the man you actually wanted.”
“But that isn’t true either. I didn’t use you. I really did love you, Mona. I still do. You’ve been part of my life since the infants’ school, and I would never willingly hurt you. We’ve never been less than very close friends and we still could be, if…”
“Friends? You want to be friends?” Mona let out a sarcastic laugh. “And a fine friend you turned out to be, didn’t you, David? Lying and cheating for six bloody years, pretending to be something you’re not. Like a real man!” She almost spat the last two words before resuming. “Friends! That’s absolutely priceless! You want to cast me aside for that – that queer bastard and you expect to stay friends?”
“Look, I made a mistake. I’m sorry, Mona – and there’s nothing you can say, no insult you can throw at me, that I haven’t thrown at myself over the last few weeks. If I’d known, if I’d done it all deliberately to lie about myself, then you’d be right. But I promise it wasn’t like that. I honestly loved you and really did mean all the ‘till death do us part’ stuff. Please believe that, ’cos I did not lie to you. As I said, you’ve been a good wife to me and you make a bloody marvellous mum...”
Even hinting at the existence of the boys was a total mistake. “Yes, and that’s another thing, isn’t it? I dare say you’ll be up and off to your fancy boyfriend in London, leaving me here with the kids. Kind of you to give me ten or fifteen years of struggling to bring them up as a single mother.”
“I promise you it won’t be like that. I haven’t said I’m leaving, have I? And even if I do, or you throw me out, I promise that you won’t be any worse off than if I’d stayed. And I want to be around to help support you.”
“Generous of you, I’m sure. But you needn’t think it’s going to be like that. Oh, yes, you’ll pay – I’ll make sure that you do, and if needs be I’ll drag you through every court in the land to make that stick. But you needn’t think that you’ll see those boys ever again once you walk through that door. I’m not having my children exposed to a pervert like you.”
It was like watching a slow-motion car crash. He could see how Mona’s hurt was morphing into a deep, burning anger fed by bitterness and evident disgust. He had not bargained for that – and he knew who had to thank for it, too. Dear Cheryl.
“I don’t think you really mean that, love.”
“Don’t ‘love’ me, David. I am clearly not your love and never have been.”
“Stop saying that! It’s not true! I’ll say it again. I never lied about my feelings towards you – and I was, and am, very proud of our children and how you look after them.”
“You’ve got a bloody funny way of showing it, that’s all I can say.”
“What do you want me to say? That it’s all some ghastly mistake? That we should pretend this never happened and get on with the rest of our lives? Because that would be living a total lie, wouldn’t it? Staying together for the next fifteen or twenty years, purely to keep up appearances? Is that what you want?”
He paused, hoping that his words would sink in. “Can you imagine that, Mona? Smiling for our parents and pretending that everything’s wonderful when it isn’t? And they know it isn’t. Is that what you want? Lying consistently and steadily to everybody – including the boys – for the rest of our lives? Ruining our whole future for one mistake six years ago?”
“And what is my future to be then, David? A single mother stuck in a corporation house on Beckett’s Hill, I suppose. What about that house we were going to buy together in the autumn? What about all our hopes and dreams for a better future for us and the boys? You were going to get made up to inspector and we could have had a nice life – giving our boys a better chance in life than we ever had. Not much chance of that now, is there? They’ll be another pair of fatherless teenagers on a council estate with no future and no hope of one. God, I hate you for this, what you’re doing to me, to them.”
“It needn’t be like that.”
“Oh, and how are you going to stop it, eh? How’s little Tommy going to feel when I tell him that his daddy’s never coming home again? Tell him what his daddy does in bed with another man? Because as sure as hell if I don’t tell him, some bully at school will. Will Kevin even remember you at all? I doubt it – all he’ll ever know is the gap he’ll have had in his life – the gap his daddy should have filled.”
David felt his eyes filling with tears. He wanted to reach out to her but couldn’t. He wanted to prove to her that it wouldn’t all turn out like that, but he knew deep in his heart that it very probably would. His arms went out and he took a step towards, her but she immediately took a step backwards to maintain the distance between them. His arms fell to his sides and he resumed his position by the door into the hall.
“Mona, I promise that I will do my very best to prevent that from happening. If you let me, I’ll be around for the boys as much as I possibly can be. It’s been the thought of leaving them that’s made me so miserable over this.”
Mona laughed sarcastically. “Nice of you to reveal the truth, David. You don’t actually care a fig about what happens to me, do you? As long as the boys are all right. Typical bloody man.”
“Stop saying things like that!” David allowed his frustration at the way the conversation was going to take over for a moment, raising his voice and speaking through a clenched jaw.
“Yeah, that’s it. You can be a proper man when it suits you. I’m not doing what you want, so you get aggressive.”
Realising the grain of truth in Mona’s words, David took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. “Mona, please believe me when I say that I didn’t want any of this to happen. I can’t help the way I was made, and I didn’t ask to fall for Alan – but I have. I didn’t decide to act on those feelings lightly, or without thinking of the consequences for you and the boys. I genuinely didn’t know about this when I asked you to marry me, and I am genuinely sorry that I’ve hurt you so much. I still love you, but not in the way you wanted or expected. I don’t want to desert you or the boys, but obviously if you want me to go, I will.” He came to a halt;
there was nothing left to say.
Mona listened to his words with her head bowed, looking at the kitchen floor. As he stopped speaking, she lifted her head and looked him in the eye once more. There was no sign of any tenderness or forgiveness there, only the same degree of hurt and bitterness. When she spoke, there was a malevolence in her tone that he had never heard before. It shocked him. “Get out, you filthy pervert. Go and stick your prick up your boyfriend’s arse, if that’s what you want. Get out of this house now and never come back. You’re dead to me from now on, David Edgeley.”
David flinched but Mona took no notice. She pushed past him and rushed upstairs in floods of tears.
He stood there, uncertain what to do. His conscience told him that he should stay here and try to fix this; his common sense told him that fixing it was now impossible and that he should get out. His heart ached for Alan and to be held safe in his arms.
Eventually he moved slowly towards the back door and into the garden, which he had tended so avidly over the years, telling himself that it was his pride and joy. He looked round it now in the half light of a late summer evening, devastated by the speed at which events had moved.
He had been horrified at the nature and depth of Mona’s reaction, but he had to recognise that he was the cause of it. She was right: his weakness and cowardice in not acknowledging his feelings and his love for Alan six years ago had been the root cause of the problem. He had been lying to himself as well as everybody else.
Christ, what a fucking mess. Uncertain of what to do, he sat on the bench in the back garden. He looked at his watch; it was just gone nine. He wondered if there was a train back to London tonight, but no, he’d have missed the last one. He could – in fact he ought – to go and see his parents but he couldn’t face them tonight, not now. He’d go and see Jen. He could sleep on his sister’s sofa tonight, see his parents tomorrow and then go to London. Except that Alan was away on this bloody course all week. Shit.
He pulled out his mobile to ring his sister. It turned out that she was with his parents, giving him no option but to go and see them. He called a cab to take him to his parents’ house, and re-entered the house. His overnight bag from the London trip was still in the hall so he grabbed it and headed out of the front door for what would probably be the last time.
Chapter 34
Alan
After their exchange of text messages, Alan was the personification of a cat on a hot tin roof. He wished he smoked because at least it would keep his hands occupied. He poured himself a glass of wine and moved from the kitchen into the sitting room upstairs.
He switched the television on but was unable to concentrate; he couldn’t have done even if he had been in the mood for frivolous Saturday night entertainment, which he certainly wasn’t. He decided to listen to some music but stared at his CD collection for several minutes without being able to choose a suitable disc.
It occurred to him that he could do something practical with his time, so he went into his bedroom to get a load of dirty laundry. Downstairs in the kitchen, he found himself staring out of the window again; ten minutes had passed, during which he had been turning the laundry in his hands, creating a knotted mess which he had to untangle. He shook himself, put the washing into the machine and started it.
He remembered that he had left his phone upstairs. He raced up the single flight and grabbed the handset. Nothing.
Pacing about the room, he paused every now and again to look out of the front window into the street below. There was hardly anybody about – but then a lone figure passed under one of the lamp standards, his footsteps echoing against the tall terraced houses on either side of the street. The stranger seemed to have the same build as David, and Alan imagined briefly that it was actually him walking up the street, coming to the flat as he had in recent weeks. He’d be ready to kiss hello and say “hi” before settling down for an evening’s cuddling in front of an old film. The figure passed on down the street, ending the brief illusion. It was not going to happen – at least not tonight, anyway. But would it ever happen again? Would David ever be in is arms once more? If so, when? And how?
Alan closed his eyes and fought back his tears. For at least the tenth time that day, he cursed the fact that this week of all weeks he had to do this sodding residential course in the middle of nowhere. The venue was remote enough to force him to travel tomorrow night to be there for the start of the course. He was committed to his job, and to the firm which had looked after him so well, but he did rather resent losing his Sunday. And, as it had turned out, it was spectacularly bad timing.
But his boss had been insistent. They had to be completely switched on to social media marketing; you couldn’t simply rely on the geeky technical guys who understood all that stuff. Account managers and creative directors had to get a grip with it as well if future campaigns and pitches for accounts were going to reflect current marketplace trends adequately.
Alan understood the point completely and had been looking forward to the challenge – but then Friday night had happened and the whole weekend had turned to shit. He ran his hands through his hair distractedly. He should be with David and he couldn’t be.
What the fuck is happening to him?
Tears welled up again, this time of both frustration and sympathy, and he headed into the kitchen to get another drink. He was in the kitchen when he felt his phone vibrate and heard the ping of an incoming message. It was a text.
DAVID:>> Total shitstorm at home. Mona threw me out. On way to mum and dad. Talk later.
Alan stared at the screen, horrified. He immediately hit the dial button – he needed to talk, to find out more, to see how the poor devil felt. It went straight to voicemail. Alan was frustrated but not surprised.
He tried to keep the agitation out of his voice as he left a message. “Hey, Davy. Just saw your text – wanted to make sure you were okay. Give me a call as soon as you can, love.”
And to make sure, he also texted back.
ALAN:>> Really sorry, Davy. Hope you’re OK. Anything I can do? Ring me as soon as you can. Love you Al.
Chapter 35
David
The cab dropped him at his parents’ house across the town around half an hour later. His sister Jen greeted him at the door, her face full of anxiety as she embraced him. “I’m so sorry, David love. Was it awful?”
He nodded whilst still wrapped in her arms, meaning that she felt rather than saw his response. Recovering a little, he lifted his head and spoke. “It was horrid, Jen. Much worse than I thought it would be. What about here?”
“Not good. Mum would be okay, I think, but Dad is not happy. I don’t think he understands. They’re both very worried about the boys.”
David grunted. “I can well understand that. So am I.”
“Anyway, go and freshen up, then come down and talk to them. But don’t expect an easy ride.”
He trod wearily upstairs to the bathroom and stripped off his uniform jacket and shirt. He looked at his clothes in surprise, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t even had time to change before the shit had hit the fan. As he washed himself down, he replayed the scene with Mona, her words reverberating through his mind. Whatever pressure might be put on him in the next hour or two, he knew that the split with his wife was irrevocable. Things had been said tonight, positions taken, from which there was no going back. He would try to get on with her in whatever way, shape or form she would allow, for the sake of his boys, his parents. But that would be the extent of their future relationship. And he had a shrewd suspicion that she would not allow very much, if anything.
He dried himself off. He felt better for the wash, though he would have given his eye teeth for a long hot shower before falling into bed – ideally with Alan, but even alone would be good. He felt so tired, as if he’d not rested at all since that moment outside the pub on Friday night.
Remembering Alan, he pulled his mobile out, only to see a blank screen. The battery had run out. Shit. He mus
t remember to plug it in and contact him soon, then charge it overnight.
He dressed again and prepared to head downstairs to face his next ordeal: a discussion with his parents.
***
David sat in his parents’ lounge, accompanied by his sister. Because he was the baby of the family, having been a late unplanned addition, there was a wide age gap between him and his parents. George Enderby had been almost forty when David was born and was now in his late sixties. The age gap had been widened by George’s conservative outlook on life; he had always been resistant to change. Consequently, he remained wrapped up in the moral and ethical approaches that he had known as a boy in the 1940s.
David had dreaded this conversation for weeks – and being outed by his own trade-union chairman was hardly likely to make the discussion any easier.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before all this started. It must have been a bit of a shock for you.”
“Yes, it was, love,” replied his mother. “But I understand that it was difficult for you too.”
“It was a lot to come to terms with, seeing Alan again and bringing everything back.”
David looked at this father. Definitely not happy. He remained silent as David told his side of the story and the expression on his face stayed closed, as if he were hiding his true reactions behind shutters. Now, he spoke. “Yes, it’s all very unfortunate. I can understand that you might have problems with urges. Lots of people do – but they control them. Why do you have to act on them?”
David was thrown by the question, which had never occurred to him. “Because this is me, Dad. I didn’t choose to be born like this, it happened. I didn’t choose my sexuality.”
“But that’s what I don’t get, David lad. You claim not to have a choice, and yet six years ago you did seem to have a choice and you chose to get married. You made certain promises to Mona and went on to father a couple of children. As far as I’m concerned, you ought to keep those promises.” He paused. “After all, liking other men is nothing to be proud of, is it? It certainly wasn’t in my day. People controlled their urges when I was a boy, dealt with them in other ways. Urges are not an excuse for breaking promises, David. Not a reason for failing in your duty.”