The Alone Alternative

by Linda MacDonald

  She needs Taryn for consultation purposes and arranges a game of tennis for Sunday morning. Then, with spring weather continuing and sunshine showing up the smears on the windows and the dust in the hard-to-reach crevices, she decides to be extravagant and order a total spring clean from a local firm. If she is going to sell the house, there is much to do.

  Since Johnny died, she has engaged a couple of Beckenham services to help with plumbing and IT support. She found them via Twitter and the amazing #BeckBromFL community who are keen to advertise their businesses or to recommend others. And the previous summer, she hired a gardener. She had hoped for someone like Edward’s Rick, but ended up with a bearded ex-hippy called Terry. In his favour, he is an advocate of organics and permaculture and she has been fascinated listening to him extolling the virtues of crop rotation and old-fashioned composting methods. She instructed him to start growing vegetables in patches between the flowers and she has noticed that the remains of the winter crop are looking untidy. Time to give him a ring and talk about summer salads, carrots, potatoes and courgettes. A few peas and beans will help with nitrogen fixation for the following year, but if she isn’t going to stay much longer at the house, is it worth all the effort? She wonders if Beckenham – and specifically Beechview Close – is ready for tolerating vegetables in the front garden.

  She recommended Terry to the Pines, who live two doors away. Fiona and David. They kept an eye on the cat whenever she and Johnny went away and will no doubt do the same when she visits Edward. David Pine is a surveyor and Fiona runs an upmarket dress hire business in West Wickham. Since Strictly introduced the Argentine Tango a few years earlier, they go dancing on Wednesday nights in London and on Saturdays in Croydon. Marianne sees them going out to their car, all slinky satin frocked and shiny suited, a flower in her hair and liberal amounts of gel in his. They are sprayed to a South American bronze and look the part, but whether their skill matches their flashiness, Marianne doesn’t know. A few months after Johnny died, they tried to persuade her to join them. ‘So many single men of a certain age,’ trilled Fiona.

  ‘And all obsessive tango dancers,’ said Marianne. ‘I couldn’t be so committed.’

  She thought she didn’t want a man any more. Not if it required hassle and tango dancing to get one. Now Edward is back on the scene, she’s not so sure.

  *

  Tennis on Sunday is less warm than the previous few weeks and there is talk of cooler conditions and rain to come. Marianne is so concerned about the drought, she is quietly pleased at the prospect.

  She has been neglecting her fitness regime during the past couple of weeks and she loses the set of tennis without putting up much of a fight.

  ‘You’re out of condition, girl,’ says Taryn, ignoring a tanned and muscular tennis coach who is trying to catch her eye.

  Afterwards, they return to Taryn’s pristine flat in Coppercone Lane, still with its trompe l’oeil on the living room wall: two pillars with a cottage garden beyond. Since Neil became a part-time cohabitant, she has removed to the bedroom the nude silhouette of her torso.

  In response to Marianne’s gushing about the visit from Edward, Taryn says, ‘Seems to me that the old embers are stirring back to life on both sides.’

  Marianne tells her about the chaperone comment.

  ‘He’s just being careful after your earlier reticence to visit.’

  ‘Stirring is one thing, doing anything about it is a different matter.’

  ‘You are both effectively single people now. Free to bend with the wind. Why not?’

  ‘You told me once that you were tired of starting again with men,’ says Marianne.

  ‘Imagine that! But I did, in the end. With Neil. We’re settled as a couple now. The fact we don’t live together is immaterial.’

  ‘I don’t know if I have the energy or inclination to go down that path at my age. There’s so much to learn about a new person. I know we get on as friends, but making a life with someone as a partner is different. We are set in our ways.’

  ‘Isn’t friendship the most important building block? Especially at our age.’

  ‘He’s extremely work-focused and more typically male role-orientated than Johnny was.’

  ‘You have been spoilt with Johnny, but Edward has attributes you admire – or so you have led me to believe. People do change depending upon their circumstances, age and who they’re with. You would find him a tad more difficult than Johnny and he would find you easier than Felicity – the post-inheritance Felicity.’

  ‘There’s so much I don’t know about him. I only had a snapshot of him during his working week. He didn’t have to make domestic decisions when he was with us and I’m of the view that Felicity ran that side of things at the Deer Orchard. I’m not keen on becoming a domestic drudge.’

  ‘Indeed not,’ says Taryn. ‘But Edward is a thoughtful soul, and even knowing what you know is still a huge advantage compared with starting afresh with someone you’ve just met. And in the difficult areas, all you have to do is apply some psychology: appreciation and cake.’

  ‘What about sex?’

  Taryn hesitates and raises an eyebrow. ‘Sex is a useful if extravagant reward for domestic help.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ says Marianne, flushing. ‘I mean sex as in whether or not we are compatible. It was important to me when Johnny was alive. But post-menopause, I discovered he had to make more effort to interest me. Once I was interested, it wasn’t too much different from before. But without those initiating stimuli, I could take it or leave it. Johnny understood and cooperated. That’s after years of honing our communication skills.’

  ‘I’m sure Edward is very much able to become your initiating stimulus.’

  ‘But the thought of learning another person’s foibles … One is less flexible as one gets older.’

  ‘Flexible as in bendy, or flexible as in adaptable?’

  ‘Honestly, Taryn! Adaptable.’

  ‘Edward is very accommodating, if I remember. Quick to take the hint and eager to please.’

  ‘You were both younger then; it was an exceptional circumstance. And I’d rather not think about you and him.’

  ‘I could give you undercover details.’

  Marianne blushes again. ‘Taryn! Then I would miss being surprised – should I decide and should he be interested. In any case this conversation is ridiculous.’

  ‘You know it isn’t. I know the thought has crossed your mind.’

  ‘Crossed but not loitered.’

  ‘All you need is a strategy.’

  ‘Your strategy didn’t work so well with him.’

  ‘Because I broke all my own rules. Because, for the first time, I cared. The best way is to act as you would if you didn’t care, even if you do. Many men run away if they are chased. Consider how many of your married friends are committed to their Grand Passion. Often as not it is Mr Steady Reliable who signed the register. Could that be because they genuinely weren’t interested in him at the start? That they gave out vibes that meant he had to work hard and do some serious wooing?’

  Marianne remembers how duplicitous Taryn was; how she trailed Edward to the British Museum, lured him to a local bar, charmed him over glasses of wine, took him home and seduced him. But afterwards, all further attempts at chasing him had failed. ‘Felicity chased Edward. He told me. It worked for her.’

  ‘He’s older now. Probably persuadable to be less single-minded about his work. More relationship-orientated. Take the lead from birds,’ says Taryn. ‘Flap a few feathers; show him you’re there, then walk smartly in the opposite direction. Respond positively, but never initiate.’

  ‘When Edward and I started emailing, it was nearly always me who initiated and he nearly always responded.’

  ‘That’s got to stop,’ says Taryn. ‘Turn it on its head. Roughly seven to one, him to you initiating contact by whatever method.’

  ‘But he’s a chasee, not a chaser.’

  ‘If he wants you, he’
ll chase – so long as you give him the signals that it might be worthwhile. It was he who sought you out this time; tweeted you first. And remember how he chased you when you discovered about us; when you stopped mailing him? He’s definitely got chaser potential.’

  ‘But why would he want me? Middle-aged men want sweet young things. You talk about biology. That’s their biology.’

  ‘Edward is more cerebral than that. It’s a generalisation and not a universal law. In any case, it’s different when you’ve already an attachment – which you two did, in a way.’

  ‘Severed, though.’

  ‘You have to regain your old confidence. If it’s not there naturally, pretend. Don’t tell him you’re insecure and worried about being a woman of fifty-five. That’s not going to attract him. Remember Rule 1, you have to love yourself.’

  ‘When I was married and safe, it was easier to do all those things.’

  ‘And he loved you for it. You weren’t a threat. He lowered his guard.’

  ‘It’s safe to love what you can’t have.’

  ‘Exactly, but that doesn’t mean he can’t love you when you’re available.’

  ‘I’m five years older.’

  Taryn closes her eyes and grits her teeth. ‘So you keep saying, but Edward’s not fickle.’

  Marianne is silenced.

  ‘Rule 2 is not to make unsolicited advances. Do not touch him, unless he touches you first. And even then, be sparing. Even touches on the arm should be rationed and best done in public than in private. Ditto compliments. Give, only when you have received. And don’t become a Mother Hen. If you do too much for a man, they become unmotivated towards you. Make them think they have to do more to please you.’

  ‘This seems a very unfair strategy.’

  ‘I have observed relationship rituals all my life; I’ve read all the books and added a few thoughts of my own. An element of meanness is what promotes desire. You see it all the time in the animal world. We liberated women have forgotten how to play the game.’

  ‘I don’t like games,’ says Marianne.

  ‘Everything we do to attract men is a game. You don’t go out wearing a sack, therefore you’re playing a game of a sort. Make-up, high heels – and cake. All games.’

  Marianne isn’t sure. She is not like Taryn, and Edward is not typical of men. Yet some of it makes sense. The problem is, she is not good at playing it cool.

  ‘Rule 3 is to keep him guessing where you are. Don’t always be available when he phones. Every few texts or emails, delay your reply.’

  ‘That seems so calculating.’

  ‘Remember how you feel when someone does that to you? It fires the spark, the necessary passion. And Rule 4 is not to mention the relationship – where it’s going or the future. Take your lead from him. Keep busy doing other things until he makes a commitment.’

  ‘Might have a long wait,’ says Marianne.

  ‘Can you hear yourself? You are countering all my suggestions with a negative response. If you want to give it a chance, you must change your mindset and open the door to your heart.’

  15

  Life of Edward

  Meanwhile, when Harriet picks up the returning Edward from Exeter station on Friday evening, she grills him about the visit. He knows what she’s after, but as they walk back to her car, he explains in detail about Patrick’s proposals.

  ‘Dad! That’s great news but tell me about Fanclub. Is she still attractive? Do you fancy her? Are you in with a chance? Does she have step-mum potential?’

  ‘You may meet her soon. You can judge for yourself.’

  Now every time they pass in the house, Harriet gives him a look, inviting information which he is disinclined to share, not least because having found the old attraction hasn’t dimmed, this has created the complexity he had feared. When Marianne was unobtainable he could indulge his fantasies; now he has met her again, now she is effectively free, his more colourful imaginings seem somewhat disrespectful. He is faced with pleasant distraction on the one hand, but decisions and some discomfiture on the other. He is unsure of what he wants and much will depend on how she responds to his home territory, if and when she deigns to pay him the promised visit.

  He is aware he has rediscovered his energy and resumes a state of busyness that was once the norm. His filing system for work-related items is exemplary and within seconds of being back in the house, he roots out the drafts that he wrote in 2004 in preparation for the TV documentary and the book that never happened. He will need to add some of the latest research findings and projections, but little has changed in environmental terms bar the urgency with which some of the ideas need to be implemented. He wonders if government ministers from around the world will carry on prevaricating and clasping tightly to their techno-driven lifestyles while low lying island nations are engulfed by rising seas, food shortages become a fact of modern life and civil unrest returns to the West.

  This TV series is long overdue and if it is accompanied by a book and real educational change in the classroom, the three-pronged approach should ensure notice is taken. Too often these ideas are floated in one-off documentaries pitched at the thinking population, most of whom are already converted to the message.

  It won’t take long to update the script and chapter outlines. He places the drafts by the computer, intending to make a start after he has had something to eat. By the end of the weekend he should have the information required by Patrick.

  It is with hopefulness that he takes Meg for her last long walk of the day, striding through the paddock with acute awareness of leaves and blossom and mellowness in the air that is so rare at this time of year. A twinge in his lower back as he climbs over the stile reminds him that he is no longer thirty-five, but nothing dampens his mood. He has found Marianne and he doesn’t intend to lose her again.

  *

  On Sunday evening, Olivia pays him a visit. Since her break-up with Alexander, and Felicity’s defection to Italy, she is somewhat at a loose end and continues to turn up at the Deer Orchard on a pretext of using the kiln to fire her pots, or to barter bottles of wine for home-grown vegetables – as she has been doing for the past few years. Edward deduces she is lonely and it is only because he is lonely too that he tolerates her company, but only in small doses. He can’t stand the woman and is relieved that she now spends more time with Jessica.

  After placing her latest selection of ghastly ceramics in the kiln, Edward invites her in for a cup of tea. He is feeling charitable since his productive visit to London and more inclined to spread his good fortune.

  Olivia is always overdressed and today she is tightly encased in a cream suit, her gold jewellery shimmering and gleaming at her neck, wrists and ears. She is still all teeth and hair; the latter a stiff nest of vibrant red, most definitely not its natural colour any more.

  They sit at the breakfast bar. Edward doesn’t want her to be too comfortable and outstay her welcome and he knows she finds it difficult perching on a stool because she has sciatica.

  He has barely placed the mugs of tea on the work surface when she launches.

  ‘Darling Edward, I am so pleased to hear about you and Jessica.’

  He is taken aback. ‘You are mistaken, Olivia. We were talking Killerton planning issues.’

  ‘Yes, dear, but she said that you told her it was too soon since Felicity.’

  ‘I did, and it is.’

  ‘Give it time. You would be good together.’

  Edward hesitates to tell Olivia the truth; that he isn’t interested, especially not since Marianne re-emerged. He doubts that she would keep the knowledge to herself, and he doesn’t want to hurt Jessica’s feelings. It was so much simpler when you were a teenager with fewer scruples and could tell a friend to pass on such unwelcome news without anyone feeling awkward. Not that he ever did, because he was always buried in a book, but he saw it happening with classmates and with his children when they were younger.

  Yet he is curious about Jessica, especially a
s she seems so desperate. ‘How well do you know her? Before Broadclyst?’

  ‘Not at all,’ says Olivia. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I was wondering about her background, from where she came originally.’

  ‘She rarely mentions her family. Her parents are now both dead, I believe. That is one of the reasons she has money – an only child like Felicity. She was married to someone else before Ray. I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t for very long. She was young. Probably an impulse. She did say she needed to make a complete break with the past. I don’t think she’d been happy for a long time. That was why she moved to Exeter – from somewhere in Yorkshire, I think. And then she met Ray. Another mistake, by all accounts. Absolute brute. Probably did her a favour when he died.’

  ‘Married twice already,’ says Edward.

  ‘But she’s older and wiser now. She deserves someone nice.’

  Edward recognises the strong hint and gives a weak smile. Felicity used to tell him about Olivia’s matchmaking of single villagers. He suspects he and Jessica have become one of her projects.

  To: Edward Harvey

  From: Marianne Hayward

  Date: 2nd April 2012, 19.01

  Subject: Patrick

  Dear Edward,

  Mailed Patrick and we have since talked on the phone. He’s very charming, isn’t he!? (Have just discovered that one of these !? is called an interrobang. US term, of course. Sounds faintly untoward to me!)

  He’s asked me to generate a list of ideas that could be used in a resource pack. Perhaps create some detailed samples and a lesson plan or two. Then he suggested the three of us meet for a discussion – and if he likes what I come up with, I will be working with someone called Gillian Fylde from Flying Owl to bring it into production.