by Karen Aldous
Angie was still in her dressing gown, when I stepped into the bedroom.
‘Nice bath, hon?’ she asked.
‘Yes, so lovely,’ I said, tying up my gown and sitting on the bed to dry off my feet and between my toes.
‘It’s thinking time for me,’ Angie said rubbing thick white cream on her face.
‘Me too. And, I have been thinking.’
‘Do tell?’
‘Oh, it’s all mundane stuff.’
‘Rubbish it is. Come on, you need to air some of these things, however mundane you think they are.’
I continued wiping the towel between my toes. ‘I was thinking about the future, me, what to do. Marrying and having the children so young, I got into the habit of letting Mike take charge, making decisions and organising things. I was thinking it was time I got my act together, attacked some of the paperwork, started thinking for myself and stopped burying my head in the sand. Who knows how far I could stretch myself. And I need to decide how would I run my affairs if, and it’s a big if, I did meet a man at some point in the future.’
‘Of course you will.’
‘Regardless, I need to get to grips with managing things independently.’
Angie nodded, and I grinned watching her lips mumble from the tightening facemask. ‘I agree.’ She stretched her mouth wider. ‘I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes, but it must be hard to suddenly have to take everything on yourself.’
My stomach lurched at the thought of all the paperwork that had piled up in the last year. Mike told me all the bills were paid by direct debit, so I hadn’t even bothered to look at them. Any envelope with a window I tossed on the pile now higher than the box they were stacked in.
‘Well, I have to be realistic. There wasn’t much money left and what I have left over from my redundancy is for emergencies, such as the boiler or the car breaking down, as well as paying for this trip. Mike did warn me it would get tough. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but he sold his electrical business for a relative song.’
‘No. Why?’
‘So that his business partner could afford to buy him out. But those funds saw him through much of his illness, and the rest went towards his funeral. That was when I was in a well-paid job, though, remember.’
‘I don’t know how you coped,’ Angie said, shrugging her shoulders and lying down on the bed. ‘And why you didn’t say? We can help.’
Picking up my Nivea cream, I squirted some on my legs and feet. ‘I know, but luckily my boss allowed me quite a bit of paid time off, and I was grateful, believe me. It was a shock when he let me go later. Bastard.’ I stretched out my soft, shinier leg, and raised the other one, squeezing the cream on it and began to rub.
‘Unbelievable!’ Ang mumbled.
‘My new salary just about keeps me afloat and I was going through the options. Downsize or scrape by until my pension paid out? Selling the house would at least allow me to buy a smaller place with some cash left over. I wouldn’t want to leave Camfield Bottom though and leaving our lovely family home would be heart-breaking of course – all those fond memories.’ I sighed. ‘But maybe a new place would give me some focus as well as releasing some cash. I thought of your job proposal too and think we should discuss it in more detail after this week. There are pros and cons that I need to weigh up.’
‘Mm,’ Angie said.
‘I wish my dad was still alive to chat with. He was good with money and talking through problems.’ I finished my foot and second leg and turned to Angie. She was drifting into sleep, bless her. I snuck my feet under the faux-fur throw and lay my head on the pillow, thinking of my parents. I missed them both.
Mum and Dad had me late and had both gone – leaving me the chunk of their will, of course, which soon disappeared. A new kitchen, a new bathroom, plus a few nice holidays. Mike and I passed most of the inheritance on to Ross and Rachel to help them up the property ladder. I was grateful they were comfortable in their lovely homes, even if they were just that little bit too far away. And having friends close by was probably something I had been rather taking for granted. Something else I needed to address. I had avoided them. Each had rung, come to the house, or invited me out – to help me. I hadn’t wanted to talk. Not about Mike, my job, what I had to do.
I suddenly heard a shriek, then a loud bang. I shot up from my relaxed stupor, put on my slippers and waded haphazardly to the top of the stairs.
‘What was that? What’s happened?’
Kim looked up the stairs from her position on the sofa, her finger over her lips as she spoke softly. ‘Shh. It’s Cathy. I think she was out on the terrace and has just gone back into her room. She was talking to Anthony.’
‘Oh. Oh dear. Not good by the sounds of things,’ I said. ‘Where’s Lou?’
‘I’m down here, sweet, waiting to get into the bedroom. I need a bath.’ Lou’s face appeared seconds later, with a smile.
I leant forward clasping my hand on the smooth chrome rail. ‘Well, come and use ours. Angie’s gone to sleep.’
‘I might have to,’ Lou said. ‘I’ll hang on a few minutes and go in, I think. I need something to change into.’
I sat on a stair halfway down. ‘Something must be up. Do you think I should go in?’
Lou shook her head. ‘I don’t want her to feel embarrassed.’
‘That’s my worry too,’ Kim agreed, twisting her mouth.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to interfere and embarrass Cathy, but Anthony seemed to be constantly upsetting her. ‘After today, I don’t think we should be keeping secrets from one another. I feel much better now I’ve told you about Mike. I’m going to see her.’ I got up and ran back up the stairs to Cathy’s room and knocked on the door. ‘Cathy, are you all right?’
After a short pause, she responded, ‘Yes, fine.’ Then I heard her tell Anthony that she had to go. ‘Come in.’
I opened the door. She was on the bed wearing black thermals. ‘I’ll call you later.’ After pausing she whispered, ‘Bye.’
Cathy
I was still staring at my phone when Ginny came in. I poked at the phone, then threw it down beside me on the bed as though it was burning my fingers.
‘Sorry, I heard you scream and the door slamming. Are you all right?’ Ginny asked.
My hands reached up, covering my face and rubbing my temples; my eyes would give me away. ‘Oh, Ginny.’ My voice wobbled and I let out a huge gasp and uncovered my eyes. ‘Anthony. He’s being horrid and don’t be sorry. It’s a relief to get off the phone.’ Tears rolled down my cheeks.
She opened her arms, saying nothing, just held me as I sobbed.
Sniffing, I released myself from her grasp. ‘I need to get a tissue,’ I said, dashing to the bathroom. I ran the tap, splashed my eyes.
When I returned Ginny was sat on the bed, looking at the clothes and make-up that were strewn across Lou’s side of the bed and on the floor. Three half-filled water tumblers paraded on her bedside cabinet. It wasn’t surprising Lou had gone through so many cleaners at home.
I blew my nose. My hairline was damp. I swept my hair to one side, the neat bob disarranged. I sighed heavily and sat beside Ginny. ‘I can’t deal with him. He’s acting like an abandoned child.’ I sniffed again. ‘Apart from asking stupid questions, which are unnecessary because I left clear instructions on every appliance, he’s giving me the third degree. He wants to know what time I go out, what time I come in, where I’ve been, who I’ve spoken to, who the instructor is, if I’ve spoken to any other men. It’s the Spanish inquisition every time we speak. I’ve never known him to be so possessive or insecure,’ I told her, wiping my eyes. ‘Or drunk. He’s getting worse. I don’t know what to do, Ginny. I think he needs professional help.’ I leaned back on my pillow.
Ginny bit her lip. ‘Oh, Cath. I agree. It sounds like he does. He isn’t coping, is he? But it is difficult, especially while you’re in Switzerland, to help him. I don’t understand, why would he try and ruin your h
oliday?’ She brushed a tear from my cheek. ‘Look, Cathy, he does need help, but he needs to see that, recognise it for himself, otherwise he won’t help himself. Is there anyone we can ask to go to him in the interim? Terry? Rob? We need to provide some distraction for him. Terry would be easier as he’s usually around and easier to contact. Maybe he can take him out for a bike ride or a game of golf. Shall we ask Lou?’
‘Oh God, this is so embarrassing,’ I said dropping my head into her lap and threading my hands together. ‘That’s what he needs – distraction. Gin, he constantly follows me around like a lost puppy. He needs something to do. Some purpose.’
Ginny rubbed my back with her hand. ‘What does he do now then?’ she asked.
‘Nothing. Well, unless you count the Times crossword each morning as a purpose. Barely anything apart from interrupt me. He doesn’t even stay in contact with his old colleagues or clients. He’s not the confident Anthony I fell in love with and I’m realistic enough to accept that his ambition and all that reputed Midas touch will dwindle with age, but I don’t understand him or what he expected retirement to be. I know it doesn’t mean cutting yourself off socially. I mean, I’m a recluse with my writing to some extent, but he was always around people, preoccupied with his job, his world centred around his clients and now I feel as though he has just noticed I exist again. I seem to have become the entire centre of his world, his existence.’
I felt Ginny’s hand fold around my shoulders. It was warm and comforting. ‘Well, you certainly seem to have identified the problem. That’s a good start. Retirement has been a big change for both of you, but don’t feel embarrassed to talk about it. I’m your friend. The others too. OK, I admit, I’ve been a bit slow learning, but believe me when I say that sharing really does help and I wish I’d learned that lesson when I lost my job, but it really does. I was embarrassed, ashamed and didn’t tell anyone for ages, but honestly, yesterday after I told you all my suspicions about Mike, I felt two stone lighter. The pride or shame, or whatever it is we drag ourselves down with, is a lead balloon. You can only take so much pressure, then you’ll explode.’
I sat up. ‘Oh, darling, you’re right. I should know all this. Yes, I fear I will explode, but you know me, I don’t like airing my dirty laundry in public.’
Ginny shot me a knowing look. ‘Oh, Cath, that’s me to a tee! I don’t know how or why I’ve let Mike’s words fester inside me for so long. It’s hideous behaviour for a mature woman. And think about it, how long have we all known each other? Hardly strangers, are we? Neither of us will be off sniggering behind the other’s back; we’re past all that. And, interestingly, what I discovered was how you all had different views about the issue of Mike possibly having an affair. What you all had to say completely switched around my thinking.’
‘It did. How?’
‘I was irrational. Totally irrational. What could I do? I’ve spent the past year feeling humiliated that Mike could be unfaithful to me. Torturing myself as to why he did it, with whom, trying to find clues and answers to those questions, when in fact, I don’t even know if he did have an affair. It was all in my head. Like the redundancy, and trying for jobs, I felt useless, past it, ugly, confused, betrayed, constantly telling myself I was on the heap. I can’t tell you how much effort it took me to come along to the gym and classes. I now think if only I had told myself there was nothing I could do about it anyway, I might have stopped beating myself up.’
Ginny pulled her shoulders back and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘So, don’t bottle it up. If Anthony carries on, you could do the same. You’ll let the shame build up. You’ll possibly begin blaming yourself for his behaviour, looking inwards for answers, trying to work out what you can do to put yourself right; what it needs is objectivity. Outside input. Others will give you a new perspective and have probably already worked out what is happening by the changes in you both.’
I stared at Ginny. ‘Oh, darling, that makes so much sense.’
She smiled. ‘Believe me, Cathy, I’ve only just discovered its magical effects. I’m no expert, but I’m giving you my point of view. The benefit of my experience. That’s all. You have a lovely husband who loves you dearly; he just needs help.’
I sighed and felt the muscles in my face soften. I held my arms out and embraced her. ‘Dearest Ginny, I’m so lucky to have him. And you. I … talking to you, I feel better already. I just don’t know what to do. I want my Anthony back. I suppose it makes sense to get help. If this continues, I swear I’d have to leave him to it. I can’t live with him like this.’ I pulled back, my mouth twisting, wondering where on earth I would start. Then patting my friend, and stepping towards the dressing table, I glanced at myself in the mirror. I had no answers. I attempted to straighten my hair with my fingers. ‘Let’s go downstairs and tell the others. I do need to share this. Maybe between us we can work out a way forward.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Ginny said and took in a deep breath before opening the door. ‘It actually feels really good to be needed. It’s been so long since I’ve helped anyone else. I was so engrossed in my own self-pity, I forgot everyone has their own problems. Let’s hope Anthony will accept help or seek it for himself.’
‘Well, thank you, darling. I do feel much better,’ I told her as we headed down the stairs. ‘And, it would be wonderful to have our old Ginny back.’
Lou and Kim were sitting with their feet up reading when we got down the stairs and Angie, her face glowing, was just sitting down with a tea. Ginny went directly to the kitchen to put on some fresh coffee whilst I sheepishly caught the Flowers’ attention.
Kim
Gathered in the sitting room together, we listened as Cathy opened up to us about Anthony driving her mad since they had retired. I wasn’t too surprised to be honest after hearing their arguing on the phone. I was surprised that Anthony was idling so much though. I knew how much energy he put into his business and socialising. I also got the impression that Cathy might be spending too much of her time writing. Perhaps they needed to balance their time better.
I was glad she told us. For their sake and for mine. It was an issue I needed to bring up with Will when I got home. Neither of us wanted to be bored or take up so much time on our own project that we completely ignored each other, which I supposed could happen if I was to come to Europe alone.
We all agreed Cathy needed to discuss it with Anthony though. Maybe Cathy needed to limit her writing time to office hours, or create some flexibility, say three or four days a week, so that she could spend more time with her husband.
Lou was such a star though – she got straight on the phone to Terry, enlisting his help to get Anthony out. Angie messaged Rob too. Between them, they would try get him out of the house. Will wouldn’t be much help but could at least ring him for a chat, I suggested, and messaged him. We offered some ideas about trips they could take together, weekends, day trips. I quite enjoyed the exercise and got some great ideas for planning my own retirement. Besides, we were high on cups of coffee, which Ginny refilled from the coffee machine, and on chocolates; yes, we had spent the arvo gorging on the yummy selection of Swiss chocolates left for us by the chalet owner.
My tummy was rumbling again, however, and glancing at the clock, I said, ‘Guys, I must go and have my bath. It’s a quarter to seven.’
‘Gosh, is it really?’ Cathy said peering up at the clock. ‘Me too.’ She stood up from the corner of the sofa, slightly hesitant. ‘I’ll ring Anthony later otherwise we’ll never get out.’
‘Good idea,’ Lou said and stood up too, tightening the belt on the dressing gown I had lent her. She did eventually get her bath whilst Ginny was talking to Cathy in our room. She then continued. ‘And, hopefully by then, Terry will have spoken to him and organised something. Although, didn’t they organise a memorial for Mike tonight?’
‘Hmm.’ Cathy clung to the rail on the stairs and rolled her eyes, her lips curled. ‘I think you’re right. I was thinking a film at the cinema would be nice,
but even the pub with the boys is better than Anthony sitting in on his own, getting drunk and worrying about what I’m doing. Fingers crossed the boys can work their magic. Thank you, my darling Flowers. Anyway, bath, or shower?’ she muttered as she cheerfully climbed the stairs. Then as we were still watching, unexpectedly she turned around, lifted her shoulders, stuck out her chest and raised her arm with a pointed finger, just like the poster of Lord Kitchener himself recruiting troops for the Great War.
‘My Flowers, “Our Marriage needs you”,’ she said in a gruff voice. ‘With you, Anthony and I can fight this.’ Our shrieks pierced the air as we laughed; but when I glimpsed Cathy’s face, ironed of its creases and shining back at us, and her posture as she marched up the stairs, it was evident she had also taken the figurative step she needed in order to climb the next. ‘Ginny, you were right,’ she said, reaching the top. ‘Sharing the load and having all your support has been extremely therapeutic. I was beginning to get in such a state. My head is certainly so much clearer now.’
I smiled and saw Ginny’s eyes glistening too. Because she had dug down and sourced her own courage today, she’d been able to plunge in to talk to Cath. What a difference in both Flowers, I thought, wishing I too could unearth some inner strength to tell Ginny the truth.
An hour later once dressed we ventured out into the freezing night. The melted snow had quickly iced over, and we trod carefully on our ascent to the road. We were soon warmed and greeted in La Poste by Lucien, the waiter. He showed us to a large booth with bench seats along the walls and sides and, as we ordered our wine, we each quickly ordered a pasta dish before Stefano appeared to fill us with his wonderful but filling eight-course specialities. Stefano found us a few minutes later.