Two Kinds Of Truth

by Lynette Creswell

  Dashing straight for the kitchen, I open a cupboard door and grab an empty glass, filling it from a bottle of wine already open in the fridge. Taking a large swig, I try to ease my disappointment. I was hoping for a nice evening together, for us to reminisce about Scotland and Callum’s family. Instead, I now realise I’ve been foolish enough to believe everything would simply fall into place.

  A door closes. I spin around to see Callum enter the kitchen. His jaw is tense and there’s a strange look in his eyes.

  “I guess I’m the cause of yet another ruined evening,” he snaps, but his tone doesn’t hold one note of regret, and I shy away from him. Callum’s nostrils flare, his lips drawing back in a terrible grimace, clearly trying his utmost to pick a fight. He’s been the same ever since the first treatment failed. I close my eyes, determined to blot out the stark image that now flashes before me, but all I see is a river of red pouring from between my legs. I squeeze my eyes tighter shut when phantom labour pains slice across my abdomen. No. I’ll be damned before I let him make me feel it’s all my doing.

  With some reluctance, I open my eyes.

  He’s staring right at me, and I’ve seen that look before. He’s goading me, hoping I’ll let rip, but I don’t.

  “Hey, why don’t you join me?” I say, and snatch another glass from the shelf, pouring him a generous amount of alcohol. I give him what I hope is a peace offering, something that might quench the ominous fire burning behind those luscious green eyes of his.

  Callum downs the sparkling white in three large gulps, but I can see the fire still burns.

  There’s only one way out of this situation, so I make my move.

  “Callum, I understand you’re upset about losing your client, but please, let’s not fight.”

  He places the empty wine glass onto the kitchen counter.

  I feel myself tense and I bite my lower lip, nervously. I know his tactic. He wants to antagonise me to the point where I’ll explode and then he’ll blame me for the aftermath.

  But I’m playing it cool. I won’t let him see that I’m seething inside.

  Callum chooses his words carefully.

  “Is that what you think? That I’m spoiling for a fight?”

  “Well, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “What, then?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just angry with the world tonight.”

  “Or maybe you’re just angry with me?”

  He pushes his fingers through his head of thick curls.

  “You changed us, Maddie. You did this to us.”

  “That’s simply not true. We both agreed to go through with the treatment.”

  “You said it’s what you wanted.”

  “And so, did you.”

  “None of this was ever about me. I feel like a constant failure.”

  “You’re not a failure. The consultant said that catching mumps can always put a man at risk of infertility,” and I rush towards him, trying to grab his arm, to pull him close, but he snatches it away. He holds his hand to his chest, as if my touch would fill him with a sickening disease.

  “Just don’t,” he cries. “Just don’t fucking touch me,” and I take a step back.

  “That’s enough, Cal,” I whisper and push past him to switch off the oven. I’ve now lost my appetite for lamb stew.

  From behind me a clock chimes the hour, the silence which follows then deafening to my ears. Callum’s shoulders tense and his eyes appear to mock mine. For a split-second, I fear he might reach out and grab me, but the moment doesn’t come. I leave him standing there and dash upstairs, fresh tears behind my eyes which I then force back. This is not how it should be between us.

  In the bathroom, I run myself a bath as a distraction, but then the front door slams and a car engine soon roars into life. My heart sinks, for I’m well aware that Callum will most likely go into town and drink himself into a stupor.

  Chapter 2

  “Who’s making such a racket?” Callum grumbles as he snuggles further under the bedcovers. A car backfires outside and I open one eye and glance at the clock, letting out a low moan. When I stir, Callum’s leg brushes against mine. I never heard him come to bed last night.

  Throwing back the duvet, I make my way towards the window, my feet silent as they press into the carpet. When I throw back the curtains, the glare of a streetlamp almost blinds me, and I shield my eyes with the back of my hand. I blink to see the next-door neighbour’s white Beetle trundling off down the road. A trail of black smoke coils from its exhaust, like a pollutive snake escaping into the atmosphere.

  “It’s bloody Micky again,” I say, and snap the curtains closed. “That’s the third time this week we’ve suffered being woken up by that beaten-up piece of junk he calls a car.” My gaze wanders over to where Callum lies, dozing. I’m soon back in bed, tugging the covers over me, expecting a response, only to frown when he simply pulls the duvet over his head instead.

  “I think it’s about time you said something to our noisy neighbour,” I huff. “All this disturbed sleep isn’t helping anyone. He knows I’m up early and that you work late.”

  Callum groans, rolls over onto his back and lets out a deep sigh. “Look, Maddie. You know full well that having words won’t make a blind bit of difference. He’s only just managing to keep the roof over his head, so it’s not as though he’ll be out buying a new car anytime soon.” He punches his pillow and bounces back onto his own side.

  I let out a deep breath, annoyingly aware that he’s right. Still, I hate the thought that my neighbour will likely never be able to afford a new car. Thinking about it, that’s true for pretty much the whole neighbourhood. The entire town is full of people just like Mick, like us, struggling to make ends meet. I feel a moment of longing, wishing to get away from this place, to escape and live somewhere a little less—deprived.

  My mind drifts back to Scotland, to rolling hills covered in a thick carpet of purple heather. I lick my lips as my thoughts turn to the ice-cold waters of the loch, and the river filled with trout that runs through his grandfather’s property.

  For us, the Highlands was the perfect honeymoon location. I love the great outdoors and I was happy to muck in around the farm. We walked along nature trails that led out into the glens, watched golden sunsets, and fished until dark. Later, by the fireside, we ate what we’d caught, cooked over the flames. I’d seen a different, more attentive side to Callum back then. He’d wished only to make me happy, not like now.

  I press my lips together and squeeze my eyes tight as the reason why things turned sour creeps into my mind. I don’t want to think about that now, or what happened between us last night. I want to start today anew.

  I focus my attention on a time when we had both been so happy, in love and carefree. I treasure the memories of those few special days in Scotland and hold them deep within my heart, where nothing and no one else, not even Callum, can touch them.

  The sound of deep breathing fills the air, and I open my eyes and stare at the top of my husband’s head. I want to reach out with my fingers and stroke one of the auburn waves that taper into a soft curl at the nape of his neck, but instead, I wipe a tear from my eye. He’s handsome, but that alone won’t hold our marriage together. I love him so much and try to show him every day, but the gap between us is inexorably widening and I don’t know how to stop it.

  I do believe, in my heart of hearts, that Callum loves me still, but something isn’t right; something’s eating away at him, day by day. I can never put my finger on the exact moment things changed between us, but I’m certain about the root cause.

  Snuggling close, trying not to wake him, I pull the duvet up to my chin and comfort myself with its manly smell of his skin. But knowing I’ll never be able to have children with Callum haunts my every waking moment.

  There’s a continual buzz close by my ear, and I reach out, searching the top of the bedside table for my mobile. My fingers curl around the sliver of cool vib
rating metal, and half asleep, I drag the iPhone to my ear.

  “Hi,” I mumble; “what’s up?”

  “Why aren’t you at work yet?” Keira asks.

  “What?” and I peel back an eyelid, trying to focus on the ornate clock on the bedroom wall.

  I almost drop the phone as I tumble out of bed.

  “Holy shit! Is that the right time? I must have dropped off.”

  “Relax,” says Keira. “The shop’s open for business as usual.”

  I rub the last of the sleep from my eyes.

  “Sometimes, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re an absolute gem.”

  “Yeah, I know, so that’s another pay rise you owe me, right?”

  I smile down at the phone. “When we start making some serious money, I’ll think about it.”

  Careful not to wake Callum, I drag my dressing gown from the bottom of the bed and swiftly push my arms through its sleeves.

  “Oh, listen,” I say, pulling the mobile closer to my mouth, “I completely forgot to tell you: there’s a large shipment of red roses coming in this morning. Could you make sure you get a readable signature and that the delivery note matches items ordered on the invoice. I can’t afford another cock up like we suffered at Christmas.”

  “Don’t worry, that won’t happen again. Besides, I’ve already had a text saying the shipment will be here within the hour.”

  Relieved, I make my way into the bathroom, my voice, which sounds a little more relaxed, rising an octave as I close the door behind me.

  “Good, that’s a relief. Still, I’ll hurry and do my best to be there before the roses arrive. If you can start on the orders we prepped yesterday, we can get them ready for when Eddie comes with the van to pick them up at eleven.”

  “Chill. It’s all in hand. I haven’t forgotten we have five wreathes on order and nine bouquets for collection today,” Keira assures me.

  I squeeze a dollop of toothpaste onto my toothbrush.

  “Mmm, that’s right,” I agree, scrubbing my teeth with Colgate. “They’re all for Mrs Williams who passed away last week,” I mumble through the foam. “She was a very popular lady, a staunch member of the community, so I don’t want any hiccups, not like last time.”

  “You mean the humiliation we suffered when a certain local Mayor’s flowers were delivered the day after his funeral?”

  I grimace at the reminder.

  “Yeah, like that one. Now beat it and let me get ready.”

  I hit the red button on my phone and try not to recall how I almost lost my entire business. Not that it was all my fault. The note the Mayor’s wife had given me had been soggy from an unexpected downpour, the numbers having run into each other. Pushing that dreadful day to the back of my mind, I concentrate on getting ready for work. With no time to shower, I wash my face, brush my hair and tie up my natural blond tresses into a ponytail. Heading back to the bedroom, I hear Callum snoring. Without making a sound, I get dressed and go over and kiss the top of his head. Even as he sleeps, I cannot escape the emptiness of my life. But for better or worse, I made a vow and a promise. I still love him. No one told me married life would be easy, so I don’t expect it to be. With a heavy heart, I hurry downstairs, grab my car keys and bag, stuff my arms through my coat sleeves, and within seconds I’m out of the door.

  ***

  “After all that, you didn’t mention having a holiday?” Keira asks.

  I push the last of the wreaths into the back of the delivery van, close the set of double doors and try not to catch Keira’s eye. “Seriously,” she insists, “you didn’t even broach the subject?”

  I bang my fist on the side of the van and wave at the driver when I catch a glimpse of him through one of the side mirrors.

  “Nope, I just couldn’t seem to find the right moment,” and I head back inside the shop.

  “Hey, not so fast,” Kiera yells, racing ahead and jumping in front of me. “So, what happened? You were up for it yesterday; what made you chicken out?”

  “I didn’t chicken out, well, not exactly.”

  Keira cocks one eye. “Really? Well, it sounds like you did from where I’m standing.”

  My shoulders droop as I gently push Kiera aside. “Look, K, how about we just let the matter drop?” I don’t wait for a reply but push in through the main shop door. I proceed to unroll a scarf from around my neck and pull off a pair of motheaten mittens, which I then throw behind the counter.

  Through a mirror on the shop wall, I watch Keira pulling off a fluffy blue and red beanie hat. “It’s no use, I’m not going to quit asking questions until you explain why your bags aren’t packed. Besides, you promised to bring me back a wee dram.”

  I turn towards her, deciding to tell her the truth.

  “Well, the thing is…Callum came home last night in a vile temper. Some jerk at work stole his best client, and now he thinks he won’t get his bonus this year. He’s seriously pissed off, and you of all people know there’s no talking to him when he’s in such a bad mood. So…I decided to keep schtum about the mini break, for the time being at least; simply ride the wave and wait until the time becomes right.”

  Keira hangs up her coat and rubs her hands together for warmth. “That’s such a shit thing to have happened to him, but I still don’t see why you can’t go to Scotland. His bonus shouldn’t affect you going away on holiday. I don’t mean to pry, but surely you only need to have a full tank of petrol to get you there.”

  I make my way over to the till, just as an elderly customer scurries into the shop.

  “Have you any fresh carnations, dear?” she asks, warmly.

  I point to a bucket near the shop window and the old lady waddles over. “I’ll have a few of these,” she says, pointing to a bunch of pink and white chrysanthemum’s, instead. “Oh and add a couple of those lovely white lilies into the bunch, too, please.”

  I head over and pull the flowers from the water before taking them back to the counter and wrapping them in pretty patterned paper. The old woman thrusts a ten pound note into my hand.

  “I’m off to the cemetery,” she explains, opening her shopping bag and placing the flowers inside. “My husband passed away just over a year ago and I always try and visit him once a week.”

  I smile weakly as I give her, her change seeing the sorrow in her eyes, the way her mouth turns down ever so slightly.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” I murmur.

  The woman’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Do you know? he promised to take me to Paris, but we never made it. Time just seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, he was gone.” She places the few coins I offer her back inside her purse, but then hesitates and leans a little closer. “Take my advice, lovey, don’t leave everything too late. Enjoy your life whilst you still can. After all, you’re only young once.”

  I nod and glance over my shoulder, to see Keira looking rather smug, then quickly return to watch the old lady as she leaves the shop, but that doesn’t stop Keira from coming over.

  “You see? Even the customers think you should go to Scotland,” she laughs.

  “Ha, ha; very funny,” I splutter, trying to hide a grin. “That’s not what she was saying at all.”

  “It is, too,” Kiera insists. “She’s telling you that life’s too short.”

  I let out a loud sigh.

  “Whatever she meant, it’s not as though I’m going to die next week,” I proclaim. “Well, at least I hope not. Seriously, don’t you go worrying; I’ll get to Scotland, one way or another. For some strange reason, visiting the Highlands has now become important to me. Don’t ask me why, but I feel as though I’m spiritually being drawn back there. I want to… No, I need to see those glorious snowclad peaks again.”

  Kiera’s face breaks into a glorious grin, but it just as quickly fades.

  “So how will you convince Callum?” she asks.

  I give her a wink. “Oh, that part’s easy. I just need to think of a way of using reverse psychology, of m
aking him believe a trip to Scotland is all his idea.”

  “Ah, I like your style, but do you have any idea how you’re going to do it?”

  “Oh, indeed I do, and as Baldrick would say: ‘I have a very cunning plan’.”

  ***

  “Haven’t you got any work to do?”

  I glance up from the till, taken completely by surprise. “Hey, Callum, what are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d take you out to lunch,” and he tugs playfully at the sleeve of my shirt. So, what do you say?”

  “Listen, I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Forget last night. Let’s start over. I thought maybe we could go somewhere nice, together.”

  I nod. “Sure; okay; so, where would you like to go?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Anywhere. You choose. Besides, I want to make it up to you.”

  I catch Keira’s eye as she arches a perfectly shaped brow.

  “Well,” I rush on to say, “I’m not one to turn down a free lunch,” and I force a grin. “However, I am wondering whether you’re coming down with a bug, or maybe even man flu?”

  Callum chuckles, clearly trying to laugh off the dig, but I sense he isn’t amused.

  “No, I’m not ill. I just want to go out to lunch with my wife; is that really so unusual?”

  “Well, then, if you’re serious, we could go to Frankie and Benny’s? I hear they do great specials on Thursday’s.”

  “Fine with me,” Callum acknowledges, then lifts my coat from its peg, and I’m soon zipped up, hat on my head, hands in my gloves.

  “I’m ready,” I announce cheerily and nod to Keira. “Thanks for holding the fort. I’ll try not to be too long,” and I grab my handbag.

  Kiera waves her hand dismissively, then pushes open the shop door. “Don’t worry. Take as long as you like,” she insists. “We’ve survived this morning’s mad rush, so go and enjoy yourself, for a change.”

  I relish the thought of escaping the shop for a while. It isn’t often I get away and being with Callum makes this unexpected treat that much sweeter. I link my arm through my husband’s and he pulls me even closer, crossing the street, laughing and joking as we go.