At least Isabel had a good time with Emma at the zoo.
12
Motive and opportunity
I had Monday off and took Isabel to her swimming lesson and playgroup as usual. Usually I loved our girls’ day out but this particular day I wasn’t very good company for poor old Is. Tony arrived home from Hong Kong, finally, and grunted at us both before heading to bed. I still didn’t think he looked very sick, but didn’t want to pick a fight in front of our daughter so I said nothing, allowing the innocent chatter of a three year old to fill the simmering void.
When the evening came and Isabel was asleep in bed I marched up to him as he was packing the dishwasher and said, ‘Tell me to my face’.
‘Tell you what?’
‘You know.’
He stood up to his full and formidable height, looked me directly in the eye and, enunciating each word clearly and deliberately, said, ‘I am not having an affair.’ He raised his eyebrows defiantly, clearly pleased to be able to put me on the back foot.
‘By the way,’ he went on, ‘I knew it was you phoning the hotel, that’s why I didn’t answer.’
‘You could have called me back later.’
‘I didn’t feel like being sworn at again.’
And that was that. I found I had no stomach for further argument. Tony disappeared to the formal dining room, where he was now restoring the fireplace, and I sat in front of the TV, not taking anything in. Was he telling the truth or not? I honestly didn’t know. I felt so worn out, so drained, that it seemed almost easier to ignore the problem rather than confront it, and really I had no evidence, just a suspicion. My marriage was clearly in trouble with or without the prospect of infidelity thrown into the mix and not for the first time I began to wonder if the inexplicable creature mixing grouting in the dining room was the real Anthony Cooper and the man who’d inhabited those early days of my marriage had all the time been an imposter.
Each night that week I tried to summon the courage to confront him again but each night, in the end, I squibbed it. He was often out that week anyway, at the gym, or playing squash, but what really made me hesitate was the bravado behind that denial. Whatever his faults, Tony had never struck me as a particularly convincing liar. I’d never completely let my guard down after his earlier Hong Kong fling, but I’d found no evidence of foul play - no suspicious transactions on his credit card or unfamiliar numbers on his phone account - and he’d always let me pay these, which suggested he had little to hide. What was the alternative, that I hire a private detective to pursue him? If things had descended to that point I might as well just cut to the chase and issue the divorce papers. That’s how I justified my behaviour to myself, anyway.
Work was another matter altogether. It had lately been my refuge from a disintegrating home life and now that had all gone sour. How in the hell was I going to manage the Alex issue? His behaviour had been so out-of-the-blue, so apparently out-of-character, that I struggled to even comprehend how it had happened.
I fronted up to the office on Tuesday and tried to bury myself in work, in an effort to block out the swirling mass of contradictory thoughts that was messing with my head. Usually I would have seen Alex several times a day, but he had clearly decided to make a point of avoiding me and remained conspicuously absent all week. All his communications with me, businesslike and to the point, were via email or those yellow internal mail envelopes. Coward, I thought. Melanie clearly detected something was wrong, as my efforts to poke fun at the stupid team building weekend were half-hearted at best. I think she suspected things had deteriorated on the home front and, bless her, tried to make me feel better by bringing me coffee and mini muffins for morning tea. She would have been completely blown away if I’d told her about Alex.
About 4pm that Friday afternoon, Alex finally fronted up to my office. If he had stood any further away from me he would have been outside the door.
‘I need to apologise for my behaviour the other night. It was inexcusable,’ he said.
‘Yes it was,’ I replied, ‘But don’t worry, I’m not going to report you for sexual harassment if that’s what you’re worried about.’
This was true. Even if I had been the vindictive type, which I am not, I was conscious that I had, ever so briefly, kissed him back and thought this embarrassing detail would likely come out if things ever got nasty.
‘Great, so that’s what you think of me is it?’
‘Well, what am I supposed to think? What I really can’t work out is why me? You could just about have your pick of the single females around here and probably a few of the male ones too, if you were that way inclined. Do you get off on cracking on to married women or something? And what about your girlfriend, doesn’t she figure in all of this?’
‘What girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend. I mean I did have, in England, but not here. We broke up.’
‘So why do you still have a photo of her on your desk?’
‘Huh, I don’t…Oh, I think you must mean the picture my sister Sophie sent me. We met up for a skiing holiday in France before I came home.’
I felt a bit foolish now. Why was I always the last to know anything around here?
‘Oh my God, I had no idea. What an idiot I am. But she doesn’t look like you,’ I said.
He smiled apologetically. ‘No, I took after mum. She’s looks more like dad. It happens that way sometimes.’
‘Well sorry to accuse you of that - please accept my apologies - but that still doesn’t answer why you picked on me. I mean Rosanna was all over you like a rash - you just had to say the word and you were in.’
‘Do you seriously think I’d be interested in Rosanna? I hope you think I’ve got better taste than that.’
‘Well?’
He hesitated a moment. ‘And to think I thought I was making it too obvious. The fact is…umm…I am attracted to you Ellie. I have a thing for you. I thought you knew. Saying that, I would have never have acted, honestly, if you had not told me your marriage was in trouble and gotten all cuddly at the end. I guess I just misread the signals, although I expect all the alcohol I’d drunk was a factor. So now I feel really embarrassed and need to leave, but promise you I will always act like a gentleman in future and hope we can work together again and put this behind us. Anyway, now that I’ve made a complete fool of myself I’d better go. Have a good weekend.’
And with that he turned on his heels and left.
God, I really was the last one to know anything around here.
How I drove home safely that day I’ll never know. That evening Tony and I were heading out to dinner for Angus’ birthday so I didn’t have time to reflect properly on this new development. I thought some of his friends might detect the tension between us but they didn’t seem to. Most of the other husbands ignored their wives anyway and spent the whole night drinking and discussing sport and business and real estate, whilst all the wives sat around ignoring their husbands and talking about child care and clothes and gossip. God it was deadly. I would have got drunk except I was the designated driver that evening.
The next day Isabel had a whirl of fairy-themed birthday parties to attend, so it wasn’t until that evening that I really had a chance to sit down and think. Tony had headed off to Telstra Stadium to watch a rugby test with his father and after Issy fell asleep I had the house to myself.
Alex! I couldn’t believe it. What was it about me that attracted these good-looking men? I could only assume that I’d started releasing some super-potent, male-attracting pheromone. If only I could find the formula and patent it I would be able to make myself a fortune.
So Rosanna had sensed it, obviously. I wondered why and started to think back on Alex’s behaviour towards me. It was true that he visited my office more often than he probably needed to. That had become obvious in the last week when he had avoided me and we had still managed to get all our work d
one. He was also always very attentive, making sure I had been saved a seat at meetings and didn’t miss out on morning coffee. So in a way I had been conscious of being a favourite, but in a ‘buddy’ sort of way. I’d never dreamed that there was any other motivation. Now I saw this behaviour in a different light.
For a moment I got cross and thought, so he was only nice to me because he wanted to get into my pants and really he is just a self-serving bastard like most of the other cowboys in marketing. But then I reconsidered; he was usually pleasant with everyone, not just with me. He was even nice to Carmen, our Bolivian cleaner who was near retirement age and had varicose veins and a large hairy mole on her face. If he was trying to get into her pants he had some serious issues to deal with. I had to assume that wasn’t his agenda.
But what did it really matter? I was married to Tony and for Isabel’s sake it was my responsibility to get my marriage back on track, not to start thinking about handsome alternatives to my husband. Although, ‘handsome’ was a barely adequate word to describe this man…
I was tossing and turning under the blankets with all these thoughts bumping around when Tony arrived home. The Wallabies had got up for a last-gasp win and he was in a good mood. I couldn’t believe it when he got into bed and started to make a move on me. We had barely spoken all week but that didn’t seem to be an issue for him. Maybe it was his way of making amends but it was a pretty inadequate way in my view. Still, to avoid another argument I went along with it all, even pretending I was interested. I got my revenge by fantasising that my husband was someone else altogether.
First thing on my agenda when I arrived at work the following Tuesday was a meeting with our entire department, including Alex. I gave him a small smile to indicate there were no hard feelings and saw him visibly relax. Then I felt my face warm when I remembered what I’d been imagining us up to on Saturday night, but if he saw this I’m sure he just interpreted it as some understandable awkwardness on my part.
Now that the air was cleared we were able to revert back to our professional relationship and things, to all appearances, returned to normal.
But, as you know, appearances can be deceptive. Now I knew.
And of course, he knew I knew, too.
And now that he knew I knew, every action of his took on extra meaning. He continued to visit my office less frequently than he had before and from that day stopped saving me a seat at meetings. When he did have cause to speak to me he kept things businesslike and courteous, there was less personal chitchat or jokes to liven proceedings anymore.
Once these small courtesies were withdrawn I felt their loss keenly. Up to this point I had failed to realise how important his attentions had been to my brittle self-esteem. In my more fragile moments I interpreted this change in behaviour as a cooling of his interest in me and felt as bereft as any forsaken lover. But at other times I was convinced that Alex was just trying to put some distance between us. The one thing he couldn’t seem to stop himself doing was looking at me and the reason I knew this was because now I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him.
One day when we’d just finished at a meeting and he was gathering up his papers, I lingered behind the others and mustering all my courage said, ‘Please don’t feel you need to avoid me, Alex. I am a big girl and don’t need protection. I am fine with this all.’
He kept on gathering his papers and walked to the door without saying a word. But just as he was about to leave the room he turned to me and said, ‘I thought it was what you wanted.’
‘Oh I don’t know what I want these days.’
‘Even so, I think it’s better for both of us this way,’ he said, fixing his eyes firmly on mine. ‘But promise me this. If you decide to ever leave that undeserving husband of yours, can I be first in the queue?’
With that I knew that nothing had changed. He was mine if I wanted and thenceforth I could think of nothing else.
How did this happen so quickly? I could barely understand that myself. His desirability had never been in question, but I had believed him unattainable - partnered - and certainly never dreamt he’d be interested in me. That had all been thrown on its head by his Friday afternoon declaration. Now he stood before me: completely attainable, completely desirable. I knew what it felt like to be kissed by him and held by him. At home, when he was at home, was an indifferent husband in a cold and unfulfilling marriage. All this combined to produce a highly combustible mix. It just needed a spark to set it off and that came soon enough.
It was a cold, rainy Thursday in late July. I was blow-drying my hair, getting ready for work, when Tony called from the airport. He was just about to board a domestic flight to Queensland when he remembered to call. He and Mark had organised a few days sailing together in The Whitsundays. It was a men only affair - wives and children not invited.
‘Hi,’ I answered, panting a bit after running for the phone, wondering who’d be calling so early in the morning.
‘It’s me. I forgot to ring to tell you my car wouldn’t start this morning. I was in a hurry so I took yours. I think it’s just the battery. You’ll have to call road service.’
‘What?’
‘I have your car. You’ll have to call road service.’
‘I heard what you said - I’m just in disbelief that you didn’t think to ask me. For a start it’s a company car and you shouldn’t be even taking it.’
‘They’ll never find out.’
‘You don’t know that. Surely you could have called a taxi instead. There would have been plenty around at that time of the morning. I have a really important meeting this morning, you know. Now if I have to call road service I’m going to be late. And why the hell didn’t you think to ring me before now?’
‘I didn’t want to wake you at first and then I just got talking to Mark and forgot.’ I could hear the antagonism in his voice now.
‘Yeah, you forget about me all the time these days, don’t you? I told you I have to drop Isabel’s stuff at Mum’s this morning before I go to work. And we have a visitor from head office who I’m meant to be showing around. Well I only hope that I don’t get the sack about this, but of course my job isn’t important like yours.’
‘Yeah, I do think my job is more important and I think most people would agree. I really don’t know why I bother these days.’
‘I didn’t notice that you did.’
‘Urgh. What can I say? Sorry.’
‘No, not good enough.’
‘Did you realise that your default position is bitch these days?’
‘Well that’s probably because yours has been selfish shit for the last five years.’
‘Look my flight’s boarding. I said sorry - I don’t know what else I’m expected to do. I’ll call you when I get there.’
‘Don’t bother,’ I said and hung up.
Great - I had made a vow early in our relationship not to ever let Tony get on board a flight whilst I was still fighting with him, and now I’d broken that for the second time in as many months. Qantas has an enviable safety record but knowing my luck...
I got the phone book out and called road service. Thanks to the bad weather they were flat out and it would be at least a ninety minute wait before they could get anyone out to me. I couldn’t wait that long - double great.
I quickly woke Issy and called a taxi. Once again the rain was a problem. They promised me a taxi within the hour. Oh God…
The taxi arrived after forty-five minutes. I was having kittens by this time but couldn’t avoid the trip via Mum’s. She was looking after Issy that night so I could attend a farewell dinner for John, one of the sales managers. The worst thing was when I tried to ring the office to explain why I was late I discovered my mobile battery was flat. This was such bad timing and I felt my eyes prick with tears.
I was almost an hour late for my meeting when I finally arrived at work, face like a
thundercloud. Alex looked up at me when I slunk in the back door and whispered my apologies.
At morning tea he managed to pull me aside and ask me what happened.
‘I’m so sorry. I feel so embarrassed. Tony took my car ’cause his had a flat battery and I couldn’t get a taxi and my phone was flat.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘No seriously, I…’
‘I said don’t worry about it. It’s fine - truly.’
‘Oh thank you…’ and then I couldn’t help a few more tears. I hated looking unprofessional in front of him. ‘Tony and I had another fight.’
‘I thought as much. Why don’t you just disappear to the loo for a few minutes until you feel better? I’m sure no-one will notice.’
***
The meeting concluded after lunch and I got back to my office in the early afternoon. Before starting to check my emails, I logged on to the Sydney Morning Herald website to make sure no Qantas planes had crashed into the ocean that morning. All seemed okay at present so I was relieved of that particular guilt. That’s when the realisation came over me. All day I’d had this tight feeling in my abdomen, a strange abnormal ‘growth’ that I’d assumed was nerves. Now it dawned on me what it was. It was hate. I had a small ball of festering hate in my abdomen, hatred for the husband I had married one gloriously sunny summer day when I’d thought I would surely love him forever. So it had come to this…
You know when I look back on all this now with a few months’ hindsight, I can see that my husband’s behaviour that morning for what it was: insensitive but little more than that. He’d certainly done a lot worse in the past.
But if I’d become a bitch as he claimed, I was a bitch of his own creation. I was his marital Frankenstein’s monster, and now the beast was going to turn on him.
Yeah, I had wanted to pick a fight with him that morning. I had wanted an excuse and I’d gone searching for it.
Happily Ever After? Page 16