‘Still, it seems unbelievable. You don’t think it was more complicated?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t know…She didn’t just get sick of waiting for you? It’s just that in my experience relationship breakdowns are rarely as simple as they first appear.’
‘Hey, you’re not allowed to be objective. You’re meant to be on my side.’ He placed his hands on his hips and gave me a fake indignant look.
‘Sorry.’ I pretended to look remorseful.
‘The only criticism she ever levelled at me was that I was “too nice”. I never realised that was a negative quality. She said that I wasn’t ruthless and ambitious enough to ever be a success. The thing is I am ambitious - I just don’t think it’s necessary to step on other people to get ahead.’
‘Women can be incredibly stupid sometimes. I bet she’ll regret the decision in a few years.’
‘Who cares? That’s her problem.’
‘Anyway just think, when her new husband becomes unable to perform you can have the satisfaction of selling him some Erecta.’
‘Ha…that’s an image I like very much.’
‘So this is your revenge is it? You’re the boss sleeping with the married woman.’
‘God no, I’m not that sophisticated. It was more like, “me see woman - me want woman”.’
I smiled at my most unlikely looking caveman.
‘Anyway I don’t think of myself as your boss and I wish you wouldn’t.’
‘I think if you look at the management tree you’ll find I do answer to you.’
‘Hmm…I can think of a few ways I’d like you to answer to me but none of them involve the office. ’ He smiled suggestively before reaching over to kiss me again.
The interrogation had officially concluded.
***
I also got to reveal a few secrets of my own that night.
Alex was on one of his reconnaissance missions when he discovered the long silvery-pink scar which ran along a groove where my bikini pants would have sat, if I’d been wearing any. He carefully traced this with his finger.
‘What’s this?’
‘Oh, that’s from my caesarean. Isabel was a breech baby so I had to have a caesar in the end.’
‘Yow, it’s a big scar. It must have hurt.’
‘Yeah, but maybe no more than the real thing. Labour’s no picnic you know. All I cared about was having a healthy baby so it didn’t matter to me.’
‘Sometimes I forget you are a mum. What’s it like to give life to another human being? I can’t imagine…Hey what’s wrong?’
He’d seen my expression change. In his curiosity he’d inadvertently opened that other scar of mine, the one that had not healed so well.
‘I’m not so good at that part, Alex. I had a baby that died before Isabel. He was a little boy. That was basically the start of the rot for Tony and me.’
‘Oh my God, I had no idea. I am so sorry.’ He enclosed me in his arms in an act of contrition, pressing my face into his shoulder.
‘It’s okay. You weren’t to know.’
***
Eventually I looked at the clock and it said 4.34am. I knew I had to get home soon, in case Mum called me early.
I said to Alex, ‘I’d better go soon. Can I use your phone to call a taxi?’
‘What sort of a guy do you think I am? I’ll drive you home. And I want you to get some sleep. Come into the office after lunch for our meeting. I’ll say you called me and said you had a headache.’
‘But you’ve had no sleep either.’
‘It’s okay - I’ll survive. I’ll just drink heaps of coffee. I can come home and crash this evening. You have to look after your daughter.’
Before I left I knew I must have him one more time. I was planning a seduction but when I reached for him under the bed sheets I found he was already of the same mind; this was a young man who clearly had no need for the product he was promoting. So I climbed on top and straddled him with my legs and used my hands to pin his arms above his head. Management tree or not, on this occasion I decided I would be the one calling the shots.
As I was moving slowly up and down above him he stared at me with such a look in those remarkable eyes and whispered, ‘You’re so beautiful Eleanor.’
And then the stupidest thing happened. I started crying. And I couldn’t stop a couple of fat tears dripping on to his chest.
‘Are you crying, baby? What’s the matter?’
I couldn’t give him a satisfactory answer because I didn’t properly know myself. The reasons were too tangled: guilt at my faithlessness, my broken wedding vows, my lost feelings for my husband and the love I had for Isabel and the beautiful baby boy who’d died. But mainly I think I was crying because this lovely young man had told me I was beautiful and no-one had said that to me for a very, very long time.
14
The rules of engagement
As soon as Alex dropped me home I rushed to check my answering machine with heart in mouth, but no light was flashing to indicate any missed calls. Meggs the cat was clearly unhappy about being left unfed overnight and had expressed his displeasure by deliberately doing his business outside the kitty litter tray. I cleaned this up, plugged my mobile into my charger, had a shower, dried my hair and sat down to have a cup of milky tea - normal domestic rituals on an otherwise extraordinary day.
At 7am I rang Mum and spoke to Isabel. She’d had an undisturbed night and was bright and sparky.
‘Can you give the phone back to Grandma now, darling?’
‘Okay, Mummy.’
‘Mum, I have a bad migraine and need to go back to bed for a few hours. Can you take Issy to child care for me?’
‘No trouble, but are you sure you didn’t just drink too much last night? What will that nice young boss of yours say if you call in sick?’
‘Oh I’m sure he’ll be okay about it. I’ll go in for my meeting after lunch so I can pick Issy up okay.’
After that I hopped into bed and, remarkably, slept soundly for three hours until my alarm went off. Then I got dressed for work and rang road service. As the day was fine they came fairly quickly; it was the battery as Tony had suspected. I still hadn’t heard a word from him but after our fight that was probably not surprising.
On the drive to work I was apprehensive. What was the etiquette involved in sleeping with a co-worker? How did you greet each other the next day? I slunk into the office, deflecting questions about my ‘headache’, grabbed my papers and headed for the meeting. We were planning our upcoming marketing campaign so there were quite a few people in attendance.
My heart thumped as I entered the room. What if Alex completely ignored me? I kept thinking about what he’d told me the previous night. His words had suggested otherwise but it wasn’t completely out of the question that I was just another girl in the queue. Now that he’d got what he’d wanted he might quickly lose interest. That would be horrible and awkward but probably the best thing in the long run.
He was already in the room when I arrived. Rather than look right through me he sought out my gaze and gave me a shy smile.
‘Hey Alex, you look a wreck. What did you get up to after we left you last night?’ enquired one joker.
God, I thought I was going to die at this point and buried my burning face in my papers, but Alex deflected the question masterfully, without displaying a hint of embarrassment. He would make an excellent poker player, this boy. He did look very tired though.
We were professional co-workers during the meeting but when it drew to a close he waited till everyone else had headed outside before approaching me.
‘How are you? Did you sleep okay?’
‘I did actually, thank you, although I’m planning an early night. What about you? How are you travelling?’
‘Oh I’ll just
have one drink to be sociable and then I’m planning to head home and crash out.’
‘Just as long as you don’t crash on the way home. Drive carefully.’
‘I will. What are your plans for the weekend?’
‘Just the usual stuff. Tony gets back tomorrow.’
‘So there’s no chance of seeing you?’ he asked, gently brushing his fingertips against mine as he did so. This simple act was enough to set off a shiver of remembered arousal.
‘No, I’m afraid not.’
‘Well you can’t blame a guy for trying.’
Okay, maybe I was not going to be just another girl in the queue.
***
It wasn’t strictly accurate to say it was business as usual that weekend. A significant event on the Cooper family calendar was scheduled to take place - Pamela’s sixtieth birthday. The extended family had been invited to Sunday lunch at the family home, with Andrew even making a flying visit from the States to attend.
Tony arrived back on the Saturday. We hadn’t spoken since our fight on the Thursday morning but by this time my anger had dissipated and for Isabel’s sake I felt the need to clear the air. Wisely I didn’t say (with apologies to Shakespeare), ‘Sorry, but while you were away I made the beast with two backs with a work colleague.’ I think it was actually, ‘Sorry, I might have overreacted a bit on Thursday morning. I was under stress about work.’
‘Yes, you did but let’s forget about it. I did try to call you back but couldn’t get any mobile coverage on the yacht.’
The winter weather was kind to us that Sunday. Isabel had on her best Nana-purchased frock in honour of the occasion. It was navy blue velvet with a satin ribbon trim, accessorised with white flower-embroidered socks and black patent shoes. Issy rather admired herself in it. ‘I’m a fairy princess Mummy,’ she said. I would have worn my navy suit and black patent shoes too, to match, but that was what I’d worn on Thursday night and under the circumstances thought it would be inappropriate. Instead I chose a cream and black jersey wrap dress and black knee-high boots.
Pamela looked fabulous and was completely in her element as the centre of attention. She was wearing a cream Armani pantsuit, which with her height she could carry off, and could have passed for a decade younger, although I suspect some strategically timed Botox injections might have helped there.
I liked the fact she was thus occupied because she was too busy to shoot any poisoned barbs in my direction all day. I played the part of the dutiful daughter-in-law, helping out the caterers with drinks and nibblies and got lots of compliments for being so attentive.
‘Gee, Tony, you’re a lucky man to have two such beautiful and talented girls,’ said Uncle Tom, one of the nice relatives. Tony turned his eyes in my direction before saying, ‘Yeah I am,’ although not completely convincingly.
The best thing about the whole day was Andrew being in town. He helped me with the catering and we giggled together over a glass or two of champagne.
At about 5pm the function was winding down. Isabel was over-tired and her behaviour no longer befitted her regal dress. As a matter of fact she had pushed one of her second cousins over in a fit of pique when they had disagreed about the choice of DVD to watch. Time to go, I thought.
The trouble was I couldn’t find Tony anywhere. I was hunting around the upstairs bathrooms when I heard voices coming from Andy’s bedroom. The two brothers were arguing.
‘…It’s about time you decided. Ellie deserves better.’ It was Andrew.
‘I have, I told you. At the moment I’ve got enough worries getting my stuffed career back on track. Anyway maybe you should concentrate more on your own life. When are you planning to come clean?’
‘I’ll tell Mum and Dad at the time of my choosing, thanks, and it’s certainly not today.’
‘Hello, is everything alright?’ I called out in my best falsetto. All talk abruptly ceased.
‘Yeah, fine,’ said Tony, but I didn’t miss his subtle zip-your-lips gesture to Andrew as I entered the room.
‘I think we’d better go. Issy is starting to play up.’
‘Okay, I’ll just go and say goodbye to everyone,’ he said as he exited the door, flashing his brother another warning look.
‘Are you sure everything’s okay?’ I asked Andrew.
‘Yes, fine.’
I gave him a hug. ‘Have a safe trip back. It was lovely to see you.’
‘Yeah, you take care of yourself. You’re a good girl.’
No, not so good Andrew.
Issy was protesting about leaving the party when I returned downstairs, so Tony hoisted her on to his shoulders. After a brief struggle she relented - ultimately nothing was better than a piggyback ride from her daddy. We said our goodbyes and headed to the car. I’m sure some of the assembled throng thought we looked the perfect family, an advertiser’s dream.
I glanced at Tony, Isabel’s small legs (now looking rather grubby) tucked under his arms, and was hit by that sudden shock of recognition I’d often get about how handsome he was. The difference this time was that it was no longer accompanied by any sense of ownership, the pride that he was my guy. He was not ‘my guy’ and never really had been. You can never claim ownership of another human being. Tony had chosen to spend some of his life with me, but he had always remained a little bit remote, and I now felt I knew him less well than I had when we’d first got together. This day I could view my husband with the calm detachment of museum curator:
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you care to cast your eyes in this direction you will see an excellent example of the male homo sapiens goodlookingus.’
Driving home, he breathed deeply and seemed about to say something significant - about his argument with Andrew maybe? But all that came out was, ‘If it’s alright with you I might go to the gym after we get home. I need to clear my head.’
‘Okay,’ I answered, when I should have said: ‘What do you need to decide, Anthony?’
Could he be having another affair, after all? Or was he planning to leave me? Or both? Or was it something else altogether; something that wasn’t yet on my radar? Andrew’s comment was just vague enough to keep me guessing.
That night, in bed, he started to kiss me and his hands roamed inside my pyjama top, seeking out my breasts. I had been expecting this but had been hoping against hope he wouldn’t try it on this night. I lay there, accepting his advances but not actively participating.
‘Could you at least pretend to be interested,’ he said after a while.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re so damn passive these days.’
‘Okay…I didn’t realise it was such a big deal.’
I pushed him away, commanded him to ‘lie down’, stripped back the sheets, straddled him and took his penis in my mouth. As he moaned quietly I felt him grow hard within me. Then, when I’d got him to just the right state of excitement, I jumped off, stripped off my pyjamas, got down on my haunches and said, ‘Take me from behind’. He didn’t require a second invitation. I didn’t do this because I wanted to pretend he was Alex. It was because I didn’t want him to see the tears. Crying during sex was starting to become an irritating habit.
Although it hadn’t been his intention, Tony had summed me up perfectly. A braver woman would have tackled things much earlier but the years I’d spent tiptoeing around, trying - and for the most part failing - not to displease him, had turned me into a sad passive creature that I barely recognised. He’d been the first to put up the barriers but I had given up the fight far too easily. The confident and purposeful Ellie that fronted up to the office four days a week was a fraud.
He came in a series of violent shudders. ‘Wow, after a slow start that was some of the best sex we’ve had for ages,’ he said once he’d recovered his breath.
I was tempted to say: ‘Maybe from where you were sitting buddy,’ but that wa
s an argument I didn’t need to have right now. I responded with, ‘What’s that term they are always talking about in the Iraq War? An exit strategy - that’s what’s needed.’
‘What are you going on about?’
‘An exit strategy out of this marriage. I know you were discussing me earlier with your brother.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘Not much - just the tail end of what Andrew said, but I got the gist. Do you want to tell me more?’
‘No, but I don’t want to end our marriage either.’
‘Well marriage is more than just sex and I need more from you. The trouble is I am no longer sure you are capable of giving that to me. You are clearly unhappy and in my opinion checked out of this marriage a long time ago.’
‘You’re wrong.’
‘Am I? Anyway, I can’t go on like this. I want you to make a decision by the end of the year where you want to be - one way or another - and if things don’t change for the better I think we should talk about splitting up.’
‘Where did this all suddenly come from?’
‘Oh Tony, it’s been coming a long time.’
***
To which young man did I owe this sudden burst of decisiveness: Alex or Andrew? I think it was my brother-in-law, although you may disagree. When third parties are better informed about your husband’s state of mind than you are, you know your marriage is in big trouble. I had sat back and let our communication deteriorate to an almost terminal point.
In any case my ultimatum was not inspired by some romantic notion that Alex and I were going to sail off into the sunset together. I was no longer a girl who believed in fairytale endings. I was not expecting my connection with Alex to lead anywhere in the long term. What we were both seeking, I felt, was a transitional relationship: he to get over Julie and me to ease out of my marriage to Tony, if he decided to walk, which I suspected he would.
Even so, I’d decided by Monday that this thing was going nowhere in the short term, either. It had too much potential to end badly. There might be some husbands who could cope with their wife’s infidelity but Tony was not one of them. I knew he would hit the roof if he found out and go after custody of Issy to exact his revenge. If I had to change jobs to extricate myself from the Alex thing, so be it. I was now suitably well credentialed to seek positions elsewhere and Issy was old enough to cope with me working full-time.
Happily Ever After? Page 18