Push Hands

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Push Hands Page 25

by Michael Graeme


  His next meeting with Scrotum was in the afternoon, an altogether more revealing encounter that was presaged by a Scrotum who could not have been more charming. Manufacturing was to be out-sourced, as they say in the highly sanitised parlance of business-speak. The upshot was the decrepit machines were to be scrapped. Phil could accept a position in the shipping office or he might consider a redundancy package. The job in shipping was of a lower grade than the one he currently occupied - they couldn't reduce his salary, but likewise he'd not to expect a pay rise for a very long time - meanwhile the redundancy package was very generous, and he should really consider it!

  Monday evening then saw him chewing this one over in the conservatory. It was dark, the curtains open, but all he could see was his own reflection in the windows. It was the reflection of a man alone, and Phil was in danger of beginning to feel sorry for this man, when a face appeared at the window, the face of an angry man, banging on the glass with his fist and Phil was so shocked by it he almost shat himself.

  "Is she with you, you bastard?"

  David? Was that David?

  David's voice was muffled through the double glazing and Phil would have shouted back, except he wasn't sure David would be able to hear, but David was hammering on the glass again, so Phil opened the door and went outside, just to stop him from breaking anything.

  "You idiot! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

  David's first move was to grab Phil by the lapels, except Phil wasn't wearing a jacket so David ended up with big fistfuls of Phil's chunky sweater. Phil pushed him off. "For heaven's sake, I haven't seen her."

  "I don't believe you."

  "Then you're a fool."

  David made as if to push his way inside. "I want to see her."

  "She's not with me. You really think she's here? Why would you think she was here?"

  "Where else would she be?"

  "I've no idea!" Phil paused, unsure. Had Penny not gone home then? Where was she? Was she all right? "Have you 'phoned her friends?"

  David flinched - alarmed by Phil's concern - I mean it was David's place to be beside himself with worry over Penny's whereabouts - not this jerk-off with the bald head and the funny pullover. Could it be that Phil was telling the truth? Could it be that Penny was not here? Could it be that Penny was not having an affair at all? This was possible of course, but it made no difference: there was so much else wrong with Penny these days he might as well add adultery to the list. But of course she was having an affair - I mean how else do you explain it!

  For some odd reason David's life had imploded, and he needed someone to blame it on other than himself, and Phil was a very plausible candidate. If he wasn't banging Penny right now it was obvious enough that he intended banging her as soon as he could - I mean David had seen them together, seen that look in their eyes. "What did you say?"

  "Her friends," said Phil. "Have you phoned them? Does she have family?"

  "What's that got to do with you?" David couldn't think straight. Was he missing something here?

  Phil thought his assailant was beginning to calm down: "Look, why don't you come in for a brew and we can talk about it?"

  But David wasn't calming down at all and Phil’s attempts to placate him were just making matters worse. "Shut up, dickbrain. Just,… just shut up!"

  "David, we can discuss this like adults or you can be on your way, but lay a hand on me again and I'm going to the police."

  "Dickbrain!"

  "None of this is my fault, and standing there calling me dickbrain isn't going to,… "

  "Fucking dickbrain!"

  David's fist was raised (it was definitely raised, thought Phil), so Phil punched him. He'd never punched anyone in his life before, and it seemed strange that such a gentle art as Tai Chi included the knowledge of how to deliver a punch at all - but it did, and once learned, he found it came quite naturally. The punch was swift, coming up from the heel of the right foot, but also relaxed - until the last moment. That's when Phil felt David's nose break. Oh,… shit,… he'd not intended that. How bad could things get?

  When the bleeding was under control, he took David to the casualty department of Middleton General, then sat for two hours while the doctor got around to setting it. And all the while Phil wondered if his feet would ever touch the ground again.

  "Kids with your mother?"

  David nodded.

  "Want me to call and let her know you're here?"

  David shook his head.

  "Listen, I don't know what's been going on here," ventured Phil. "Penny's a good woman and you're a lucky guy. We go to the same Tai Chi class - it's a relaxed and friendly atmosphere, you know? We talk, obviously we talk - how can we not? She's a lovely person, friendly,… and I think she's wonderful,… " Phil gave up. He was probably only making things worse.

  Anyway, David was not to be placated. "I've seen the photo."

  What? Had David found that picture of him in Penny's locket? Even more worrying, where had he found the locket?

  "Erm,… photo?"

  "Kissing you, you bastard?"

  "Kissing me?" Phew! That was all right then. "Look,… she may have - I don't remember - but if she did it was only a friendly peck. That's how Penny is,.. she's friendly,… and tactile. Are you telling me a woman's never kissed you like that? You've got completely the wrong end of the stick."

  "I don't think so."

  Phil was beginning to see how pointless this was. David would believe whatever he wanted to believe. In other words, it looked really bad. "How did you come by a 'photo like that anyway? Have you been following us?"

  "Hired a detective."

  So it was definitely David who'd hired Blakedon! "You should have hired a better one then. Forgive me, but it strikes me that you're reading something into this that's not there. Worse than that, it's like you want it to be, or need it to be, so you're twisting the facts to suit your own distorted version of the truth."

  "Shut up. Just,… "

  "You've got to find her, David. And then the two of you have got to sort this thing out. There's more than just a few bruised egos at risk here. You've got your kids to think of, and so have I."

  After an interminable evening in A+E, Phil finally dropped David off by his car which was outside Phil's house. David hadn't spoken to him since he'd mentioned the children, as if this one thing had been sufficient to sober him - but then he'd just clammed up, refusing to respond to anything more Phil had said.

  Phil watched him drive away and felt sorry for him. They had much in common - both of them guys at the mercy of forces they didn't understand and which they had little hope of ever controlling. The difference was, Phil knew this to be the case and had begun to see his only salvation lay in disengagement. David, however, was acting like a cock-sure mutt yapping at the wheels of a truck and was too stupid to get out of the way. It should have made no difference to Phil if the idiot got squashed flat of course - except life was more complicated than that, and he knew the best outcome was for David and Penny to sit down and talk it through - preferably not on the same continent as David's mother - and blow away all the deceit, see what was left, see if it was worth picking up and carrying on with.

  Except Penny was missing.

  But Phil knew where she would be. They’d been so much on the same wavelength these past months that it seemed reasonable to him to suppose they would both think of the same refuge.

  He found her car parked in the back lane by Lara's orchard. It was a bit late for Tai Chi now, so he'd no idea what Penny was up to. He let himself in through the gate but it was so dark he could barely move without tripping up on the uneven ground. It was ten o'clock and already there was frost on the roof of the summer house. He could see it glinting in the light of a half moon, so he picked his way cautiously towards it and tapped on the door.

  "Penny?"

  No reply.

  "Penny, talk to me, or I'll go and tell David where you are and you can talk to him instead."

&
nbsp; The bolt was drawn and Penny's pale face appeared in the gap as the door groaned open.

  She looked cold and tired, her face aged with weariness. This was bad, he thought - not just the way she looked, but the way he felt upon seeing her. She'd driven away looking so proud, like a queen - but now he was seeing underneath the mask, and it was breaking his heart because she so clearly needed someone and he so dearly wanted that someone to be him.

  "Have you seen him?" she asked.

  "He was round at my house trying to pull holes in my jumper."

  As his eyes adjusted to the light, Phil saw she was shivering. There was a car rug spread upon the futon, and an empty carton from a Macdonald's take-a-way. "Please tell me you didn't sleep here last night?"

  Penny said nothing.

  "But it's getting down to minus two. Does Lara know you're here?"

  Penny shook her head.

  "Have you been to work?"

  Another shake of the head. "Phoned in sick."

  "You can't sleep here. This is dangerous. And stupid. I knew you were going to do something like this when I saw you driving away - you had that,… that look in your eyes. I just knew it!"

  "Why don't you take me home with you then? I'm sure Sally wouldn't mind."

  Phil thought about it - of course he thought about it and Penny could see him playing the scenario forward in his mind.

  "I was being ironic," she said.

  "I know. But you're cold, you're hungry, you're tired and I'm supposed to rescue you - give you a hot bath, wash your hair, rub scented oils into your body, then shag your brains out - right? That's what I'm supposed to do - what everyone expects me to do, apparently,… right?"

  "Why do I feel there's a 'but' coming?"

  He smiled. How come, no matter how bad things became, there was always the potential for humour between them.

  "You had me going then," she said. "It all sounded so lovely!"

  "Bath, hair-wash, meal, and hopefully a good night's sleep: that I can do."

  She ventured a smile. "No chance of the scented oils?"

  "Sorry, the line is drawn at scented oils,… and the shagging of course."

  "But scented oils is a long way from shagging."

  "Not to a man they're not - to a man scented oils come under the heading of serious foreplay - point of no-return foreplay to be precise."

  She pretended to sulk. "Okay, no scented oils then."

  "You're a complicated woman, you know?"

  "Do I take that as a compliment? I didn't mean it - about you taking me home with you. You can't. I mean really!"

  He laughed. "I know. I could just see it: you'd be coming out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and Sally would walk in. So no: we'll check you into a motel for a couple of nights until we can think our way through this mess."

  "A motel? Why didn't I think of that?"

  "Because a part of you would rather cut your nose off to spite your face. Do you need any stuff? Toiletries and things? We'll call at the supermarket on the way. I'll follow you in my car."

  "All right,… "

  "But ring David."

  "I will," she said. But it was not a good time to be thinking about David, and there was no way she'd be ringing him. It was like the floor had given way on her life and she was still falling. Phil couldn't really help her either because he was falling too - and the best they could do was keep each other company on the way down.

  Chapter 32

  Penny felt ashamed as she pushed a trolley around the supermarket. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were wrinkled and she'd not changed her pants since Sunday. Phil was with her, and it might have been a nice fantasy - the two of them shopping together, except she was terrified of bumping into someone she knew because then she might have to explain.

  She understood, now, why Phil had been unable to speak to Sally after they'd split. You deny it's happened first of all, and the only way you can deny it successfully is by not talking to anyone else who might hold a different version of reality to you.

  She bought a pack of pants and some tampons because it never simply rained did it? Then she bought some tee shirts and toiletries, and a cheap towelling bathrobe. Then Phil began reminding her she'd only be away for a couple of days, and there was no need to look like she was preparing for a siege. Finally she slipped two bottles of a decent red wine into the trolley. She wasn't preparing for a siege, she thought, but you never knew - and sure as hell, she intended getting drunk tonight!

  They booked into the Travelodge - a twin room, clean sheets and a hot bath, just like Phil had promised. Phil hadn't understood her asking for a twin room, but Penny was paying and she'd do what she bloody well liked, she told him, and anyway they had this wine to drink and Phil couldn't very well drive home after that could he? And if he cared anything about her at all he wouldn't let her drink both bottles on her own.

  Phil wasn't going to get drunk, he said, because that might be dangerous and in any case it wasn't going to solve anything was it? And thanks very much but he'd feel much safer in his own bed a couple of miles across town, rather than lying in one next to Penny. So since when had he become such a sober stiff ass? Since right now, Pen. But he was perfectly safe, she assured him, because she was about to start.

  Start?

  Start what?

  Well, what do you think?

  Ah,…

  For now Penny lay back in the bath, warming her bones and slowly regaining a grip on her senses while Phil channel zapped nervously. She was due, but her periods had been a bit erratic of late - time of life and all that, menopause hovering like the grim reaper - but bugger him, she thought: she and Phil could do it if they wanted, without much risk of embarrassment. She wanted to, but she wasn't sure about Phil.

  Last night had been the coldest she could remember. Sleep had been impossible with just the car rug. She'd tried huddling round the Primus stove for a bit but then the gas had run out. She'd spent the day off and on doing the form, half expecting Lara to come out, but Penny had been entirely alone. She'd gone to the camping shop for more gas and then to Macky D's for a take-a-way, but was fairly convinced she was going to die in the night of hypothermia. She hadn't been greatly bothered because at another level she'd also known Phil would find her in the nick of time. And he had,… because Phil was not Gabriel, just as she was not Caroline. Something else bound them, something beyond idle fantasy, and now, sure enough, here he was - but what should she do with him?

  She had to be careful for a start. He was right: she could be a bit impetuous, and he cared for her enough to do anything she asked him to - which meant that if she was about to go into self-destruct mode, then she'd most likely end up destroying him as well. She only prayed he had the strength to stand up to her, and save them both.

  So, here she was, naked, inappropriately horny, and with a nice man waiting for her in the next room - a man who's manhood her less intelligent side had been imagining inside of her for weeks now, a man whose intimate touch she'd been reminded of with every subtle tug of the chord around her waist, with every intimate kiss of the locket against the bud of her clitoris. And it was while wearing only the locket under her robe that she emerged from the bathroom.

  Blushing, she smiled at him. "It's true what they say: you need to share a room with a man in order to know whether you could live with him or not."

  "Oh?"

  "You've been channel zapping for half an hour. David does that and it drives me up the wall."

  There were two glasses of wine on the table. Phil took one up and sipped at it. "You sound just like Sally."

  "Touché."

  She felt dangerously self destructive now and wondered about draping herself over the bed, loosening the gown so it would fall open, perhaps even exposing her sex and the golden locket nestling in her bush? What would he say? Would he tell her to cover herself? Would he politely avert his eyes? Or would he do what any man who'd been falsely accused of being her lover was supposed to do, and th
row himself on top of her anyway? After all, that's what she needed right now: a man and not this,… this stupid politeness! What would he say? Say something Phil!

  "Forgive me for asking this, Pen, but have you been wearing that locket? It's just that I thought I noticed something at the class on Sunday, when you bent over."

  Penny widened her eyes in mock horror. "You were gawking at my fat arse?"

  "Your,… derriere is not fat: it's,… magnificent. And no I was not gawking at it - gawking is far too strong a word. But, do you wear it?"

  She nodded. "Yes, but it's,… complicated. Don't go getting any ideas about what it means."

  "But it's me that's in it?"

  "Yes. Do you want to see?"

  Phil nodded, misunderstanding, not thinking for a moment she was wearing it right now - she'd just come out of the bath for heaven's sake! He thought she might have pulled it out of her handbag or her pocket or something, but Penny astonished him by unfastening the robe and slipping it off. How did he feel? His mouth fell open and ran ran dry, and he felt afraid - quite terrified by the sight of her because she was naked and he didn't know what she wanted from him, didn't know if he could give it to her, but he said nothing to dissuade her. Instead, he watched mesmerised as she tossed the robe onto the bed.

  She had done this, she told herself, in order to shatter any illusions Phil might have had about her body. Her breasts weren't too bad - a little on the big side for her liking but not too droopy yet. Her bulging and folded suet dumpling of a stomach was another matter though, while the backs of lumpy thighs were enough to make any man run away screaming. She raised her arms above her head, like she imagined a stripper would do and turned slowly, sexily, so he could see her sagging backside.

  "Still say I've not got a fat arse?"

  If Phil had been desperate for a woman with a young body, and stupid enough, he would have tried to ruin himself on a teenage mistress years ago. Women got older, and their soft flesh was vulnerable, but men still loved them, didn't they? They loved them at a deeper level - one that women perhaps did not understand, or accept was even possible. He was looking at Penny now and wondering how it had come to this. Apart from Sally, she was the only naked woman he'd seen - at least in the flesh - since he'd got married. He felt calm, but it was the calm of experience, of a maturity he had not known he'd possessed until that moment. He wanted her - of course he did - but for the time being his common sense was holding out, and he was moved more by how her body also seemed to reveal her vulnerabilities and in that moment he loved Penny more than he had ever loved anyone in his whole life. He was also more certain than he had ever been that he could never have her, never know her as he truly wanted to know her.

 

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