Push Hands

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by Michael Graeme


  Sally drew away. "Morning Marty."

  "Did you have a row?"

  That's nothing to do with you, thought Phil. "No, Mummy and I just fancied an evening apart, that's all."

  Mistake! Sally had not been "Mummy" for a long time, and Marty could barely even manage the word "Mum" any more.

  "I'm not a kid," he said, a sulky resentment never far away.

  "No, of course not - but don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up."

  "I'm never getting married."

  Phil wasn't sure where that had come from. Was it a Freudian slip? Was Marty picking up on the tension between him and Sally? "Well,… that's up to you lad, but my advice is that marriage can be a dream come true - just don't have any kids because they'll ruin it."

  All right it was a cheap shot but, but Marty's ego had been butting up against Phil's for a while now, as if trying to goad his primitive side out into the open for a confrontation. Was Marty trying to prove he was better than his father? Brighter, quicker, stronger? Well, there was no contest there.

  Phil wanted Marty to go now before Sally lost her cuddlesomeness, but Marty stood there insolently until Sally had gone, then seemed to smirk with satisfaction. Were all teenagers manipulative psychopaths? Phil couldn't remember how he'd been in his own youth, except that bursting in on his mother and father without a word of apology, let alone mouthing off a load of sarcastic abuse would have earned him a good hiding. But you couldn't do that now. You had to treat children as if they were adults - reason with them, respect them. While they could be as obnoxious and manipulative with you as they liked.

  "Are we going into town?" he asked.

  Ah, now we're coming to it, thought Phil. "I don't think so, Marty. I've no intentions of standing like a pillock in the games shop while you browse for the latest frag-fest. Anyway you've no money."

  "Granddad gave me twenty quid last night."

  "And I'm sure Granddad would prefer you to save it, not blow it away on a game you'll have played in five minutes."

  "He said I could."

  "Well Granddad can bloody well take you into town then, because I'm not."

  Phil wasn't sure, but he thought he felt the bed quiver as Marty turned and walked out, as if the lad had kicked it spitefully. But if he called him back the boy would only deny it, or his other ploy was to stand there while Phil tore a strip off him, then look gormless and say: "Pardon?" Meanwhile Phil would just get more and more heated up while the lad scored easy points off him.

  It was a bright day, and though late in the season now, Phil was fairly warm in the garden with a sweater on. He slipped out on the pretence of tidying up, but found himself a sunny corner instead and there he stood perfectly still. He took a deep breath, sank his weight down into his legs, raised his hands, as if he were hugging a giant balloon, and he did not move a muscle for twenty minutes. He'd been practising this seemingly pointless exercise every day for a month now and was becoming strangely addicted to the depths of tranquillity it took him to. He was feeling more energetic, now and much happier that his ear wasn't ringing so often as before.

  While he stood, he thought about what had happened last night. Sally could not have hired the ludicrously incompetent Herbert Blakedon. The detective had obviously followed them to the restaurant, which would have been pointless if Sally had hired him because Sally already knew that's where they were going. So it had to be Penny's family who'd hired him. He'd been too slow to work this out before, but there in the garden, doing Jam Jong as they called it, his mind cleared sufficiently through the fog of his hangover until it all clicked together.

  But there was still something that didn't add up. Penny was not exactly a loose woman - she was a good woman, a good mother and a loyal wife, a woman with a lot to put up with - all right: that was his perspective but she deserved more trust than she was being given, and he prayed she would be all right, prayed that even as his own life fell apart around him he could protect her in some way. It was just a pity that the only way he could think of doing that now was to keep as far away from her as possible. They needed a plan, a means of staying in touch - not so they could arrange to meet safely, but so they could steer their way through the coincidences that kept bringing them together.

  "Phil? What are you doing?"

  Sally was staring at him from the conservatory door.

  "It's called Jam Jong."

  "I don't care what it's called. Are we going into town or what?"

  "I've already told Marty I'm not going."

  "Since when was Marty in charge? I want to go."

  "Okay. I can practice my standing while I'm waiting outside of the shops."

  "Don't you dare!"

  Was that a smile, he thought? Was she finally coming round and accepting his need to do this. "Okay - my abdominal breathing, then?"

  "Does that involve looking like you're about to lay an egg?"

  "Not to my knowledge."

  "Okay then. But you start that Silk Reeling or whatever you call it outside of Woolworth's and that's it. Okay?"

  "Understood, dear."

  So Marty got to the games shop after all, but sulked because Phil wouldn't let him buy the gory game with a fifteen certificate, because he wasn't old enough. So Marty contemptuously settled for a twelve certificate, blew his twenty quid, and played the game for five minutes before deciding that it sucked, then punished Phil for the rest of the day with his sullenness, for not letting him have the one he'd really wanted. And while Phil understood this was the way things were, he found himself unable to rise to the bait, take the boy to one side and rage at him until he wept. Indeed, Phil found he did not care, but settled down comfortably in the conservatory with a novel he'd picked up in town. It wasn't often he made the time to read and he realised that was just one more symptom of a life not really lived for himself. Well, he was slowly taking back control, and he read into the evening, while looking forward to Sunday morning and Tai Chi.

  Doctor Lin was lonely. Both Phil and Penny had come to the same conclusion. She spent all day sticking pins into people and hearing about their ailments but so far as they could gather, she lived alone and her only social contact was with a bunch of ageing eccentrics on Sunday morning. So, when she announced after class that she was planning to arrange a weekend retreat in the Lake District, and there were no takers, both Phil and Penny stepped up out of sympathy, saying they'd be pleased to go. Surely other's would follow their lead - Lara? Arthur? But everyone slunk away quietly - it was the word "retreat" thought Phil: It sounded a bit new-agey and weird. Then, knowing how it would look, them being away together, they held back and stared at each other.

  There would be other Tai Chi groups going, and other instructors, so Doctor Lin would not exactly be alone, but they felt that someone should at least go along if only to lend her some moral support. In the end they walked out of the class, stalemated, leaving both their names on the list of "possibles", while each of them had already decided not to go.

  "You go, Pen."

  "No,… David would never agree to it. You go. Someone should go. It'll be great."

  "Sally won't like it."

  "I thought Sally didn't need you. Oh,… she'll pull a face, but maybe getting away from her will teach her how much she does rely on you. It'll do you both good."

  "Either that or make her realise how little I matter. Let's talk to the others - see if we can't persuade any of them to go."

  "Okay, but they didn't seem keen to me. There's only you and me obsessive enough."

  "Then we'll toss for it."

  "It's pointless - David won't agree to it."

  "You weren't thinking about that earlier. You were all for signing up until you realised I was going as well."

  "Then we're both guilty of deceit."

  "Why can't we go then, the both of us?"

  "You know why Phil! Really, you can be a bit dense sometimes."

  Phil glanced over to the Astra parked a few bays away, and at the figure of
Herbert Blakedon trying to look inconspicuous behind his Daily Mirror. "I'm not the only one who's a bit dense. I've a good mind to let his tyres down before I go."

  "I think he might notice that."

  "You could distract him - go stand over there and fiddle with your top or something."

  Penny smiled. "You idiot."

  "Or bend over, you know?"

  "Flash my thong at him, you mean?"

  They laughed, but Phil was left quaking inside at the mention of Penny's thong. How could that be normal? They were both middle aged. Surely such an overwhelming lust should have passed them by long ago. Suddenly he grew serious: "It was David who hired him, I think."

  "No. I know him too well. He'd have a guilty look about him - I'd feel something."

  "His mother then,… perhaps David doesn't know about it yet. Is she capable of that, do you think?"

  This struck a chord with Penny. "Yes, that would make sense. She's perfectly capable."

  "How can you bear it?"

  "Oh,… I don't know."

  "I might be wrong,… I don't know, but someone hired him. What will you do?"

  "I'll assume its her, for the sake of convenience - spit in her custard, like I always do, and just get on with things."

  Phil turned away, overcome by a sudden emotion. He felt it tearing at him and he didn't want her to see it.

  "Phil?"

  "It's nothing - they just don't deserve you, that's all. I'd,… I'd,… cherish you,… someone like you - Penny,… a man would be a fool not to appreciate you."

  "I'm sure you felt the same way about Sally once. And now you take her for granted as much as she takes you. It's the middle game of marriage. We're past that first flush, when you can't keep your hands off one another. That lasts for what? Four or Five years? Then what? You spend the rest of the time growing bored and thinking for pity's sake, I'd like to have a decent shag with someone else - just once - to remind me I'm still a woman. And if we're lucky we survive such fantasies and stay married. But thankyou anyway. It's good to know someone still thinks this old bag-lady's cherishable." She opened her car door. "We'd better go. We've been stood about for long enough. Even I'm beginning to feel like we're flirting."

  "Okay. Erm,.. is there any chance of your mobile number?"

  "I don't think that's a good idea. Why?"

  "I thought maybe we could text each other. Warn each other where we're going to be, so we could avoid each other."

  "Phil, are you having me on? Or can you really not see how stupid an idea that is?"

  "Of course it's stupid. But I don't know what else to do."

  "Caroline must have taught you that you can't manufacture a coincidence. Well maybe you can't escape them either. Let's just take our chances eh?"

  Phil nodded as Blakedon snapped them through a hole cut in his newspaper. It made Phil want to grab hold of Penny and kiss her, kiss her hard and unambiguously, and be done with it! "I'll see you next Sunday then. Bye Pen."

  "Bye Phil."

  David made lukewarm enquiries when Penny arrived home. Had the class gone okay and what time would lunch be ready - only he and Angela had to see the Vicar about the Steward rota that afternoon, so they couldn't hang about. Lunch would be ready at two, and the class had been fine, thank you. There was talk of a weekend retreat but she wasn't interested - felt sorry for Doctor Lin though - such a nice woman - and she wished some of the others would change their minds and go. David had no comment but later, when Penny set Angela's special custard before her, she could tell something was afoot by the theatrical expression on the old hag's face. Suddenly conversation turned to Tai Chi, and not in derogatory terms either.

  "Actually," said David. "We'd,.. I mean,… I'd rather like it if you went on this retreat. It sounds,… special. I know you're enjoying it,… it would do you good as well, to get away from the boys for a bit."

  "Don't worry about a thing dear," chimed Angela. "Frank and I would be delighted to help out. You really must go."

  And Penny was amazed that they could not see how transparent they were. Nor how foolish in thinking she was foolish, in thinking that she did not know her every move was being watched by a cheap little man in a seedy raincoat.

  Phil mentioned the retreat, half heartedly to Sally, in order to sound her out. If Penny wasn't going, he thought, it would be safe for him if he went, and he really wanted to deepen his knowledge of the subject. But Sally was sniffy at first.

  "How would I manage the boys on my own?"

  "Well, exactly. That's what I thought."

  "You know what Marty's like at the moment. He's a monster."

  "I know,… I know. I wouldn't feel right leaving you alone, Sal. I'm not going. Don't worry."

  And Sally was satisfied at first but after a visit to her father she changed her mind and decided it would be good for him to go. And Phil decided he would go, though he wondered what the Trevor had to gain by letting him go on a Tai Chi retreat - perhaps he thought he'd have more time to discuss his next financial rescue package with Sally. The only thing that bothered him was that he would have to keep quiet about it - not mention it to Penny because he did not want her to know he was going, when she couldn't gp herself. And Penny likewise didn't want Phil to know that she was going because he couldn't.

  That's how he ended up at a table in a hotel in Ambleside, in the middle of the Lake District one evening, having dinner with Doctor Lin. She had not recommended sleeping at the retreat which she'd described as rather a Spartan farmhouse, and that they should stay in an hotel then drive to the retreat each morning. Phil had been suspicious about this and wondered if the good doctor was setting him up for seduction, but now he was relieved to note that the table had three settings and he realised one of the other students must have decided to join in at the last minute. He was wondering who the other place was set for when Penny swept into the dining room wearing a long floaty frock. She was radiant, her hair shining and looking as if a decade's worth of wear had been smoothed from her face. Phil's mouth dropped open, and he closed his eyes. He felt a mixture of delight and horror at the sight of her. Penny drew up sharp when she saw him, and when he looked at her again, he knew right away that she felt the same.

  Chapter 25

  Mr Markham was looking much better these days, thought Doctor Lin. He'd stumbled out an apology some weeks before, explaining he would have to call a halt to the acupuncture - so ridiculously polite these Englishmen. His ear was still giving him trouble but it was improving - and he was not so fiery any more. The skin on his face was no longer dry and blotchy, and he moved differently, better balance and co-ordination. She told him it was not a problem, that he would continue to improve, so long as he kept up the Qigong and the Tai Chi.

  "Must practice every day, Mr Markham!"

  Secretly, she was glad to lose him as a patient, because she'd grown to like him and wanted to cultivate his friendship. Naturally, that hadn't seemed appropriate while she was his doctor and it still wasn't appropriate because he was married, and though she was perhaps a little older, it was not beyond the bounds of possibility that they might have become lovers - possible yes, but also quite out of the question. So she was not sure what she wanted from him exactly only that there was something. He was a sympathetic gentleman, bumbling and polite and perhaps she wanted to understand the west through his eyes, rather than through the stereotype of the lager-drinking boors who frequently vomited on the doorstep of her clinic.

  Would he have wanted her though? Yes, she thought, for she had detected an air of embarrassment about him as he had wrestled with sexual tensions that other men would have overcome by innocent flirting - no sex at home either - so he would have been an easy target to flatter and seduce. But she guessed he looked at her, and saw the face of the mysterious east with its counterintuitive philosophies that he hoped would change his life. Sooner or later then, he was bound to realise she was just a human being, a Chinese lady of middle years, and bound to let him down because he ex
pected miracles from her. Also on a less philosophical note, there was clearly something going on between him and Penny Barnes.

  Both had come to her confidentially, to confirm their names for the retreat, each asking that the other not know. This had made no sense to her, since they were both obviously coming and bound to find out sooner or later, but judging from the expressions on their faces now as they looked at one another, she realised that whatever was going on between them was not an ordinary affair.

  Penny was also looking daggers at Doctor Lin now, but it was hardly her fault was it? "I'm sorry," she said. "But you both told me not to let the other know you were coming. So I keep the promise. Have you had a falling out?"

  Penny was wearing a long black dress that felt like heaven against her skin. She'd been feeling good about herself for the first time in years - new shoes, new scent, new jewels and new frillies - bugger the Tai Chi - this was freedom! Now though, she felt like a naive schoolgirl who'd been tricked into entering a knocking shop.

  "I thought you weren't coming," said Penny.

  "I thought you weren't."

  Doctor Lin smiled. "So, nobody wants to come? I feel so happy. We eat, then go home? Yes?"

  Phil sighed. "On the contrary - we both wanted to come, very much, but we believe our families suspect we're having an affair - the rest is,… complicated."

  "But we aren't having an affair," said Penny emphatically as she drew up her chair. "Though I'm beginning to wonder if they wish we were."

  Phil was scanning the dining room now.

  "You lose something?" asked Doctor Lin.

  Penny shook her head. "No, he's looking for the private detective who's been following us. Could you be a little less obvious Phil? What are we drinking?"

  Doctor Lin winced. "Wine is so expensive in here, Penny!"

  "I know, probably rubbish too, but what the hell. Wine Phil? Phil?"

  "I can't see him, Pen."

  "Forget him. Wine?"

 

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