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Men I've Loved Before

Page 21

by Adele Parks


  With each lie she told, Nat imagined she was filling a balloon with hot air. She held tightly to the strings of the lies but soon she worried there would be so many that she’d be lifted into the air and carried far, too far, away.

  ‘So, why am I talking about babies when it’s the one topic I try to avoid at home?’ Nat had asked Michael.

  Michael had smiled, he’d marvelled at how little Nat had changed. She was still asking other people for answers when there was no great mystery, at least no mystery that couldn’t be solved if only she’d be prepared for some honest and deep self-investigation. It’d always been her way to gloss over and hurry on, to leave things behind, rather than fix them. It was that attitude that had finally killed off their relationship. When they’d headed off to university, she’d declared that they were bound to meet other people and split up. Her certainty that it would be so had made it so. Perhaps they could have managed a long-distance relationship, if only she’d been certain that it would work.

  ‘Well, have you talked about this baby business with your parents?’ Michael had asked.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Or your friends?’

  ‘A bit. Well, a lot actually. I think they’re fed up of the conversation so, no, not for awhile.’

  ‘And you’ve made it clear to Neil that the subject is off limits.’

  ‘There’s nothing more to say to him. Besides, he’s rarely at home nowadays.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  Nat felt the hairs on her arms shudder, as though her body was registering something that her conscious mind refused to acknowledge. What was Neil doing with all his time nowadays? She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d been test driving family cars and conducting extensive research into strollers of choice. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied abruptly. ‘Work, I guess. I don’t ask because—’

  ‘You don’t want him asking too many questions either.’

  ‘I suppose.’ It was a bleak thought.

  ‘So you’ve never actually sat down with any of your nearest and dearest and talked them through why you’ve made the decision that you don’t want a family?’

  The question had stung, as though he’d pushed her into a patch of nettles.

  ‘Just once. I tried to explain once,’ she replied finally and with a deep sigh. ‘He didn’t understand.’

  ‘Well, it’s clear you need someone to talk to. These meetings with people you once cared about afford only a temporary intimacy.’

  Nat had looked at Michael with surprise. Could that be right? ‘When did you get so wise?’

  ‘Leisurely, over the last decade or so.’ He’d grinned.

  Nat had beamed back at Michael. In that instant she’d forgotten that his beautiful, previously coal-black hair was now scattered with white dots, it wasn’t such a bad look, he looked like a groom with confetti permanently lodged in his hair. She’d forgotten that he was at least twenty pounds heavier than he had been the last time she’d seen him (in her bedroom, Take That smiling down from their superior position as poster idols and Nat had been sure that there was something in their smiles that suggested her teenage romance was inadequate). Suddenly, Michael seemed deeply profound and attractive. For the first time since Nat had started revisiting her ex-boyfriends, she felt a flicker of lustful excitement. She briefly wondered, could Michael have been her One? He was so calm, considerate and gentle, not something she could accuse Neil of at the moment.

  ‘I have something to show you.’ Michael reached for his wallet and Nat knew what to expect – a photo of his children, the son and a daughter her mother had told her of. The faint glimmer of lust was instantly snuffed dead. She plastered a polite smile on to her face and searched her mind for the appropriate compliment that would now be required.

  Before handing the photo to Nat, Michael gazed at it for a moment and Nat saw love ooze from his every pore. He must have been familiar with the snapshot and yet he looked at it as though it was for the first time. The lust that had flickered and died in Nat’s stomach was replaced by something else. Envy? Envy that he found the parenting thing so simple and fulfilling? Maybe a bit. Plus, something better than that – cheer? Cheer, that a decent guy like Michael was so clearly happy with his lot. Yes, cheer had flared up in her belly.

  ‘I just want to say, Nat, I know the baby thing isn’t for everyone. And tonight, you’ve given some good reasons as to why it’s not for you.’ Had she? Nat had expunged her usual set text. She’d said she was into her career, she wasn’t sure whether she was able or ready to love in the required self-sacrificing fashion and she’d said that kids were expensive. All of which she partly believed, none of which she totally believed. ‘All I want to say is that I used to say some similar things and then one day Lisa announced that she was up the duff, so all the theory went out the window.’ He shrugged. ‘And I’m glad. I’m glad there wasn’t a choice for me because my kids, well, they are my world, Nat. They’re everything.’

  Michael had passed the photo to Nat. The kids were seated on a floral sofa; they waved sticky fingers and flashed fat grins. It was the same photo many parents carried around but different for Michael, because these were his babies.

  ‘Harry and Ellie,’ he said as he pointed unnecessarily to each child. Nat wasn’t an expert on kids but even she could have deduced their genders, as one was wearing a Barbie nightdress, the other Thomas the Tank PJs, so it wasn’t tricky.

  From the photo it was clear Ellie was a Downs baby. Nat didn’t mention it. What was the right thing to say? Anything she could think of struck her as completely wrong. She wished she wasn’t so tongue-tied at the moment, so miserably confused about her own lot, and then she might have managed to say the thing that struck her, she might have commented on the kids’ beautiful smiles. They looked like really happy kids.

  Michael didn’t seem to notice her silence. He continued, ‘I love them both so much. Equally, differently, ferociously. Ellie’s challenges haven’t been a picnic, but then nor have Harry’s and he’s a kid with a normal, straightforward health history.’

  The way Michael said ‘normal’ somehow implied that he knew no one else ever saw Ellie as normal and the fact wearied him. To Michael, Ellie was and always would be a princess. The cheer in Nat’s stomach blazed into a powerful sense of admiration.

  ‘Being a parent is not a picnic, Nat. It’s messy and difficult a lot of the time but for me it’s always been worth it. You should give your decision a lot of thought. You see, Nat, these meetings with old loves can only offer a temporary, inadequate, leaky intimacy. You can’t cling to that.’

  His words had slapped her hard across her face and throbbed deep inside, as they had done every time she had recalled them this past week. She’d left pretty swiftly after that and although they’d made promises to meet each other’s spouses, perhaps have the kids over too one Sunday, Nat knew this would never happen. How could she explain such a visit to Neil?

  Nat had caught the number 94 bus home. Bus travel was a mood magnifier. If, when you touched in with your Oyster card, you were feeling giddy and light-hearted, then by the end of your bus journey you would be left with the certain sense that you were king of the crop, top of the world, Mr Big. But if you were feeling at all negative or depressed when you boarded, then you were pretty much guaranteed travel sickness and rainy windowpanes. Nat had leant her hot head against the cold glass of the bus window and had tried to ignore a group of teenagers dressed as ghouls and ghosts on their way to an early Halloween party. They had been laughing and shouting, taking turns to shove each other aside and then flirtatiously grab at one another again. They were so obviously high on the fact that they all looked vaguely ludicrous and yet quite impressively realistic and were definitely catching the attention of every passenger, Nat had felt unreasonably disconcerted by the noisy gang. It wasn’t just the fact that they were celebrating Halloween a week early and she thought that was a bit daft, it was something more profound.


  Nat had never been very keen on dressing up. She had always been far too self-conscious to find the necessary mood of abandonment and she especially hated Halloween. Where was the fun in celebrating death and horror? There was enough in the world to be scared about without plastering bed sheets with red paint and shouting boo at passers-by. It was ridiculous. Nat had noticed that one of the crowd, a painfully skinny girl who was dressed as a witch, seemed self-conscious and ill at ease. The girl had reminded Nat of her young self. The skinny witch had repeatedly tried to hush her friends; she nervously insisted that they would all get thrown off the bus if they didn’t quieten down and that it was too wet to make the short walk to the party. The torn sheets, tall black pointy hats and faces painted green were supposed to be a bit of fun but Nat felt unnerved. The boisterous gang struck her as vaguely threatening and she had been relieved when they stood up to alight. It was as they leapt off the bus that Nat had caught the eye of the skinny, nervous witch, just as she put her fingers to her lips in a renewed effort to shush her rowdy companions. Had Nat imagined it or was the girl gesturing that she could keep a secret? Was she gesturing to Nat? Did she know Nat’s secrets? No, that was ridiculous. Nuts! Nat had definitely drunk too much. Yet there had been something knowing in that girl’s expression or her demeanour that had convinced Nat that the girl knew a thing or two about secrets. Maybe that was what had reminded Nat of her young self.

  She had stared out through the grimy rain-splashed window, on to the grubby rain-spattered streets, aware that by keeping the dates a secret from those she normally spent her days chatting to and gossiping with, she was certainly casting herself adrift. She was left feeling vaguely ashamed and disconnected.

  Nat now considered whether she could tell Jen what she’d been up to. It would be a relief, actually. She sipped the scalding tea and wondered how to approach the topic. She couldn’t just dive in. It was impossible to explain that in the last five weeks she’d met up with five of her exes because she was suddenly terrified that Neil’s new position on wanting a baby and her staunch position on not wanting one meant that she was unsure whether they should be together, that they’d stay together, that she’d married the right man in the first place. Such reasoning sounded so extreme and desperate, even to her; could anyone else possibly follow it? Jen would not understand her reluctance to have a family, it was all Jen wanted. Would Jen understand how lonely she had felt of late, since she and Neil rarely talked to one another nowadays and never about anything more meaningful than whose turn it was to clean out the cat’s litter box? She needed to think of a way of highlighting Neil’s other recently exposed shortfalls. Jen would surely be empathetic to those; after all, she was going out with Karl, she had lots of experience when it came to men with shortfalls.

  ‘What do you think about our guys visiting a strip joint the other week?’ Nat asked.

  ‘Boys will be boys,’ said Jen with a shrug. Jen’s sanguine attitude surprised Nat. Normally she was the rational one and Jen was the one with a tendency to be emotional and overly demanding.

  ‘Neil spent a fortune,’ Nat added grumpily.

  ‘Think of it as the equivalent to you visiting a day spa.’

  As Nat never visited day spas, although she often said one day she might, Jen’s words were not soothing.

  ‘But is it responsible behaviour from a man who claims he wants to be a father?’ Nat added. ‘No, it is not.’

  ‘But Neil is not going to be a father, is he? You’ve decided on that,’ replied Jen.

  ‘I didn’t decide. We both agreed,’ fumed Nat.

  ‘And now he’s changed his mind.’ Jen sighed, she was more than a little bored with this conversation. Why wouldn’t Nat have a baby? Everyone else did. Everyone else wanted to! Why did she think she was so special? Jen privately thought Nat was being irrational and unreasonable. Jen’s sympathies were with Neil but her loyalties were with Nat, all she could do was remain tight-lipped.

  ‘So you are saying because we’re not having kids that maybe he is entitled, or at least likely, to go to strip joints, possibly even on a regular basis.’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ said Jen defensively.

  In truth, this was something Nat had deduced on her own, she was just playing out the theory. By refusing to have a family, was she suspending them both in a time that was free of responsibilities? If so, what would the consequences of that be? She shook her head. She didn’t know the answer. Everything about her future with Neil appeared blurred and agitated, everything about her past before Neil seemed murky and disappointing. Oh, how she’d enjoyed just being! Why had things changed? Why had Neil introduced this chaos by suddenly deciding he wanted babies? Nat didn’t know the answers. The only thing she was sure of was that none of her exes was her One; not dog-loving Daniel, or dishy Dick or even matured Michael. How had she thought otherwise, even for a fleeting second? They were all ancient love affairs and she had no right to resurrect them. The past belonged in the past; that’s what she’d always believed. No good came from poking about there. What had she been thinking? What if she had discovered an intense sexual, emotional and mental compatibility with one of those blokes (an element or other that had been notably lacking when they had dated), what was she proposing? She wouldn’t want to take any of them away from their families and real lives. Would she really want to give up on her own real life? What was the point of her goose chase? Did she imagine she could turn back time? Her old, dearest fantasy. Of course not.

  Nat couldn’t think about this any longer; she forced herself to concentrate on Jen who had made an effort to diffuse the tension by talking about something else.

  ‘If Karl doesn’t propose by Christmas we won’t have even the slightest chance of marrying before next September at the very earliest, as all the best venues are booked up months and months in advance. Do you think I should start looking at hotels anyway, just to get ahead of the game, so to speak? Or at least go and have a look at some dresses. I saw a really lovely one when I was going out with Christopher. It was a beautiful oyster colour. But do you think cream is making a comeback? Perhaps I ought to try a couple on. What do you think?’ Jen paused. She clearly expected Nat to respond but Nat didn’t know what to say.

  Oh God, so this is where we are after two billion years of evolution, she thought. One thing was decided, she was not going to confide in Jen about her Little Black Book.

  24

  Neil would swear that he never had any conscious intention of taking his relationship with Cindy out of Hush Hush. Inside the sparkly, exotic red rooms he could convince himself that their relationship was nothing to do with his real world and it was, in fact, strictly business. He’d visited her about half a dozen times now, in total. Or put another way, six times in four weeks. The tally made him uncomfortable. It struck him as overly keen, maybe even a tad desperate. He had no idea why he repeat offended with Cindy. Yes, he fancied her but no more or less than he fancied a hundred women that he saw walking down the street in one day. Nice arse here, eye-catching pert tits there. Great cheekbones, good shoulders. Yes, he did objectify women. What were you going to do, shoot him? It was normal. Besides, he didn’t objectify women that he knew, he had relationships with those women. When he thought of the women he worked with, he was more likely to think of time sheets or marketing ideas than he was to think of their bodies. He didn’t objectify his mates’ wives and girlfriends, they were off limits. Once he knew a woman, she became a person, obviously. But if he didn’t know her and she was walking down the street, she was just a treat to look at (a treat or a horror). Was it a hanging offence? And of course he didn’t objectify Natalie. He loved Natalie. Appreciated her and loved her. So where did Cindy fit?

  The first time he met her at Hush Hush she had just been something to look at, lust after and fantasise over. Pure and simple. Well, maybe not so pure. But straightforward and understandable. Even Nat had understood. That first time, when he’d come home with make-up on his clothes and e
xplained he’d been in a strip club, he could see that while not overjoyed she accepted that he was male and boys would be boys. She probably thought he’d done something a bit disgusting but instinctive, like eating snot or a worm. But after that? Why had he returned? Why did he keep going back? Yes, it was sexy. Her nipples were larger and darker than Nat’s. Her muff was considerably neater. Nat would never agree to a Brazilian. She said a straightforward bikini wax and a half-leg hair removal was penance enough for having a better eye for colour; there was no way she’d be persuaded into smooth, erotic baldness. But that wasn’t it. Over and over again Neil told himself that his relationship with Cindy was simply a business transaction. She had a lovely pair of tits and he paid a vast amount to see them, end of. But the more he told himself this was the case, the less he believed it. He was kidding himself. He wasn’t actually paying a vast amount of cash to look at her tits or even her minge, no, it was sadder than that. He was paying for her company.

 

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