The Alone Alternative

by Linda MacDonald

  It is over an hour later when he calls back with apologies about being in a meeting.

  She tells him the details.

  He says, ‘Are you absolutely sure it’s Jessica?’

  ‘One hundred percent.’

  ‘I could go and confront her. Tell her we know; tell her to stop, or else.’

  ‘That might be what she wants,’ says Marianne. ‘She might be trying to lure you into a visit.’

  ‘I doubt we’ve enough to interest the police. She hasn’t made any threats.’

  ‘Yet,’ says Marianne. ‘If you confront her, she might say you’re the one making threats. I’d stay away. She might try to get you into trouble. Don’t want to make things worse. If she calls again, I’ll try to block this number too.’

  Edward tells her not to worry.

  Easier said …

  She makes supper but struggles to eat it. She is unsettled and fidgety. When she goes upstairs to check Lydia sales figures on Amazon, she finds an email from Edward.

  To: Marianne Hayward

  From: Edward Harvey

  Date: 18th June 2012, 18.23

  Subject: News

  Dear Mari,

  Always lovely to talk to you despite the circumstances. I promise to keep away from Jessica. Feel free to call me anytime.

  When I sent you the first batch of sustainability info, I scribbled your name and address on a piece of paper for Gemma. I think it might have been the same day that Jessica made an unexpected visit to see me at work. When I asked Gemma to send the second batch, she said she couldn’t find your address, that the paper had gone missing. Gemma doesn’t lose things. Now we know it’s definitely Jessica making the calls, all I can think of is that she might have had access to it while she was waiting to see me. If she had your address, it would be easier for her to find your phone number. I’m sorry for the carelessness. Try not to worry.

  Things very busy here workwise.

  Forgot to mention Rachel made fleeting visit during which discovered Harriet has been involved with Rick for over a year. She goes to see him instead of her Italian evening classes!! Should have been suspicious as no attempt to practise language skills. They are apparently very serious. Wondering whether to speak to Felicity – except doubt it would do any good.

  Is there any point in me saying anything to Rick? Violence is not my style but can see why some resort to such in similar circumstances.

  love,

  Edward

  For an instant she has an image of Edward and Rick scrapping by the greenhouse. She suspects that Edward would come off worst.

  To: Edward Harvey

  From: Marianne Hayward

  Date: 18th June 2012, 18.53

  Subject: Re: News

  Dear Edward,

  Not worrying about you is difficult. Jessica seems unstable. But you couldn’t have anticipated her stealing my address, so please don’t blame Gemma or yourself. She would have found my number via some other means if she was determined to do so.

  Regarding Rick and Harriet: am not surprised. I did wonder, but didn’t like to say in case I was wrong and caused you unnecessary concern. Whatever you say won’t make any difference so if you can try to accept, it will be less painful in the long run. I don’t mean to trivialise. I would feel the same if it were Holly. We think we know what’s best for our children and if we were to choose their partner, we would choose safe and dependable over the riskier options. But risky options carry the excitement that is often needed to fuel love. That’s why it’s called a crazy thing; an illness.

  Have had discussions with Holly about my visiting you. She is similarly anxious. So no time of life is easy when it comes to matters of the heart. Sometimes we have to take a risk. That is probably what Harriet is thinking.

  love,

  Mari

  *

  To: Marianne Hayward

  From: Edward Harvey

  Date: 19th June 2012, 18.23

  Subject: Re: News

  Dear Mari,

  Thank you for wise words and caution against rash response. Harriet has been keeping out of my way but I will try to be more understanding.

  Seems like your conversation with Holly might have been similar to one I had with Rachel. Find odd that kids are turning tables when it comes to ‘advice’!

  I hope your heart is sending same messages as mine!

  love,

  Edward

  *

  To: Edward Harvey

  From: Marianne Hayward

  Date: 23rd June 2012, 20.11

  Subject: 50 Shades

  Dear Edward,

  I was book signing today in Wimbledon and there was a pyramid of 50 Shades in the bookshop entrance. Many customers never bothered to venture any further into the store so I had few opportunities to tell anyone about Lydia. The hype for 50 Shades is something else. One woman said she liked the sound of my book, but she was buying a present for a friend who wanted to see what all the fuss was about with 50 Shades so she felt obliged to buy her that. It is flying out of the shops in ways once unimagined for the erotic genre. Sex sells. I suppose I am jealous. Need to look for something hypeworthy in my own writing!

  Gosh! I mentioned the S word. The received wisdom is to be wary of such in cyberspace when dealing with a gentleman!! I would like to discuss it with you – the book, I mean – from a purely intellectual and literary standpoint of course …

  love,

  Marianne

  Marianne wonders how Edward will respond to this. She is presenting him with an opportunity; dropping hints that it is safe to mention previously forbidden topics. If they are going to have a relationship, some barriers need to be broken down.

  A further email from him sends her to Twitter where he has replied via direct message.

  @marihay1 Perhaps I am a *shade* disappointed that you only wish to discuss this at a higher level! #50shades

  Ah, he has taken the bait, albeit via the concise medium. Perhaps brevity was his intention and the 140 character limit gave him an excuse not to elaborate.

  @Edward_Harvey1 LOL! I didn’t have you down as a swinging from the light-fittings type!

  @marihay1 I am a man of a certain age.

  @Edward_Harvey1 Am shocked!

  @marihay1 Am joking!

  @Edward_Harvey1 Some say it’s peeps of certain age due to flagging libidos indulge in sado-masochism as necessary prerequisite to arousal.

  @marihay1 Not everyone of certain age needs ‘prerequisite’!

  @Edward_Harvey1 Sounds promising!

  @marihay1 Perhaps that only true if love is lost.

  @Edward_Harvey1 Now you are mentioning the L word!

  @marihay1 I mention it to you without fear.

  @Edward_Harvey1 Without fear of what?

  @marihay1 Without fear that it will cause you difficulty or offence.

  Marianne is unsure how best to respond to this and decides to sign out before she spoils this otherwise progressive exchange.

  32

  Harriet

  When the direct messages stop, Edward wonders if he has overstepped that invisible boundary where propriety lies on one side and unseemliness on the other. It is hard to know with a woman in whose company he has spent so little time discussing anything that edges towards a lack of decorum. Privately he hopes that they might have such a discussion face to face and that it might lead to an exposure of their feelings, a laying of cards on the table in a way they haven’t before. Whenever he tries since that fateful night of the party, she shuffles them into a pack and hands them back to him. Perhaps it is still too soon in her grieving process.

  Harriet seems always to be going out when Edward tries to speak to her, and his exchanges with Rick have reverted to nods and grunts, Harriet no doubt having told him that the cat has escaped. It isn’t until early Sunday morning that he corners her in the kitchen while she is eating cereal.

  He remembers Marianne’s words and opts for the softly-softly approach. ‘I want to know
how it happened. Why it happened.’

  Harriet’s look is defiant. ‘I’m very serious about Rick. He is serious about me. Nothing you say will change that.’

  ‘I’d like to try to understand.’

  Harriet appears surprised by his tone. ‘Do you fancy a walk? I don’t want you staring at me. Give me a second to finish this.’

  They take Meg with them, out into another changeable morning with clouds scudding across grey-blue skies and inclement temperatures for the end of June. Because the fields are so wet, they keep to the road and head away frim the village in the direction of the New Inn.

  Harriet takes a deep breath. ‘When Mum left, you were upset. I didn’t want to bother you with my emotions. You know what I’m like. I prefer not to show stuff – a bit like you. It was one Saturday morning when you were away giving a lecture. Rick was in the garden and I made him a cup of tea, like Mum used to do. He saw how upset I was and he gave me a hug. Just a friendly, comforting hug—’

  ‘Opportunist,’ says Edward, flicking the end of Meg’s lead against his free hand.

  ‘Dad! Wait till I’ve finished, please. I realised I wanted him to keep on hugging me. Rachel and I used to fancy him, but he was always chasing some glamorous woman. I couldn’t imagine him wanting me. I told him how everything had gone wrong, how all my relationships ended in disaster and now Mum had gone and I would have to look after you. I said that I thought I’d be here forever, the typical old-fashioned spinster-teacher looking after an ageing parent while all the rest of the family are having their fun and then having kids.’

  ‘Harriet, I’ve never expected you to look after me.’

  ‘But you’re so lost and useless on your own.’

  ‘Thanks!’

  ‘And I care what happens to you. You work so hard; your minds always off in the theoretical clouds. You’re not good at making time for shopping and all the domestic stuff.’

  Edward is now on an emotional brink himself. He knows all his children care about him, but Harriet is the one who shows it least, is less demonstrative, except for that one time when he came out of hospital after being attacked.

  She continues, ‘Rick said to me “But you’re a beautiful girl; a beautiful young woman. You have spirit and passion and you’ll find someone to love you”.’

  Edward’s throat tightens at her words – at Rick’s words.

  ‘I told him all the guys I go out with end up being losers and he said “If I were ten years younger”, and I said, “What?” I made him tell me. And he said how much he admired me; how I made him laugh with my craziness; how much he enjoyed our conversations – about plants and stuff – when me and Rach used to help him in the greenhouse. I thought it was her he liked. Everyone likes Rach. But no, it was me. And I asked him to kiss me properly. He wouldn’t. He said you’d go spare.’

  ‘Too right,’ says Edward. ‘Spare is an understatement.’

  ‘He said he didn’t want to let you down after all you’d been through and all you and Mum had done for him. He said I was in an emotional state and I’d feel differently in a day or two; he didn’t want to take advantage.’

  ‘Some integrity at least,’ says Edward, mellowing slightly.

  ‘And that’s how we left it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him; about what he said; about him thinking I was beautiful. And I went to his house one night instead of going to Italian. I half-expected him to be with another woman, but he let me in. I asked him again to kiss me, and this time he did. But that was all. That was all for weeks.’

  ‘You kept going back?’

  ‘Mostly we just talked. About his childhood and stuff. His dad died when he was fourteen and he became a bit of a rebel; had lots of rows with his mum; didn’t bother with school. He went out with lots of girls. He said he never found the right one – until I grew up and came back from uni and he began to wonder. But he told himself not to go there and he didn’t.’

  ‘He encouraged you to keep going to his house.’

  ‘I suppose I was lonely. You were too busy, Rachel was away. My best friends from school had found jobs in other parts of the country. And we weren’t doing anything much except talking. Rick thought I was going through a phase and he wanted to be sure I was serious; that we both felt the same.’

  ‘And you’re serious now?’

  ‘Dad, he makes me so happy. The only problem is, because we’re being secretive, we can’t go anywhere or do normal things. But he wants us to be together and I want to be with him.’

  Edward rubs his hand across his eyes and taps his forehead as if willing his brain to select the right words. ‘Doing normal things may take the shine off the relationship. Secrecy brings its own excitement.’

  ‘If that is the case, I would like the opportunity to find out.’

  ‘That’s when you’ll discover he doesn’t want to do the things that twenty-somethings do; when people think he’s your father when they see you together.’

  ‘Dad! I already don’t do what most twenty-somethings do. Half the time I’m too tired after school. I did all the clubbing and stuff when I was a teenager and at college. That’s how I know that Rick is what I want. I’m not naive.’

  This is true. Harriet pushed boundaries and led what some of his friends called a ‘wild life’ while she was still at school. ‘You may end up looking after an old man.’

  ‘Which is not so different from if I stayed here and looked after you.’

  And agan Edward sees the approach of his advancing years and the window between then and now shrinking like a puddle in the sun. ‘I don’t want you to stay to look after me. I want you to find someone nearer your own age with prospects.’

  ‘I would rather have twenty years of happiness with someone I love who loves me, than forty or fifty years of mediocrity. And none of us knows what’s round the corner. I may get sick first. And what about you and Marianne? If you were together now, how long before something happens to one of you? Does that mean you don’t bother to snatch some time while you can? That’s what I want you to do. Not because of me, but for you.’

  ‘I’m trying, Harriet. Believe me, I’m trying. But Marianne has to be ready to move on.’

  ‘You haven’t told her exactly how you feel.’

  ‘Because I don’t want to scare her off.’

  ‘There’s probably a higher chance of Rick and me staying together than if I was with someone else; someone younger. Look at you and Mum. No one would have predicted you’d split up.’

  Edward drops his shoulders, defeated. Harriet has presented a rational argument and perhaps his prejudices and pre-conceived ideas need to be addressed.

  They have reached the New Inn, shining white through the damp air.

  ‘I’m going back home now,’ says Harriet. ‘I have some school work to do.’

  ‘I may be a while,’ says Edward. ‘I’ll pick up a couple of croissants at the shop.’

  He continues with Meg for a long walk, following the lane past Burrow Farm and then back towards the village, all the time thinking about how to deal with Rick. They have had a much better relationship since Felicity left. It is a pity to spoil it with a confrontation. Marianne is probably right. Again he wonders whether to call Felicity but that will surely drive a wedge between him and Harriet and serve no useful purpose.

  He continues up Town Hill, across the main road and up through the churchyard to the field that goes down to Clyston Mill. There, he lets Meg off the lead and throws her a stick. She bounds after it, tail held high.

  ‘Daft dog,’ he says when she retrieves it, drops it at his feet, and as if her paws are on springs, she bounces in front of him, pleading with him to throw it again.

  After a few more minutes of stick chasing, they return home via the post office, acquiring croissants and a paper.

  Later, he phones Marianne to ask if she’s had any more weird calls.

  ‘One,’ she says. ‘A silent one and I blocked the sender.’

  Then he updates her w
ith what Harriet told him about Rick. ‘It does sound very serious,’ he says.

  Marianne puts on her typically dispassionate psychologist’s voice and tells him that he should release his negative thoughts; Harriet and Rick will pursue their relationship no matter what he says or does and it is therefore less stressful to be supportive. ‘You can tell them you don’t approve if you must, but even that will sour relations. People must be allowed to make their own choices – as I have been pointing out to Holly.’

  ‘Re us?’

  ‘Re us.’

  ‘Have you thought any more about “us”?’ asks Edward, at last venturing to raise the other difficult topic.

  ‘Perhaps we might meet again after the end of term.’

  It is a line that has an echo of familiarity, though he can’t remember from when or where.

  ‘That would be lovely,’ he says. ‘Will you come here?’

  ‘I have a few reservations in case I bump into Jessica.’

  ‘I’m sure we can keep out of her way.’

  ‘Then perhaps I will.’

  A new rush of hope.

  At night in bed, he mulls over Harriet’s words: ‘You’re so useless on your own’. If all goes well, there may be an alternative.

  33

  Perhaps

  There is much mileage in a ‘perhaps’. It betrays uncertainty yet creates possibility. It may be added to a proposal to avoid over-eagerness; or as a flirty addition, a tease, a request for more input before the prize. It is a breath of hope wrapped in a cloak of mystery: sexy eyes over the rim of a wine glass, a fleeting glance over the shoulder, a glimpse of lace at the neckline. Perhaps is maybe; or maybe not. It tantalises and seduces and plays a waiting game.

  Marianne expects Edward to respond to the suggestion of meeting with some specific dates and is surprised when he doesn’t respond at all. She deduces that he is distracted by the Harriet and Rick business.

  It is therefore with utter amazement that she opens the door to a knock soon after she arrives home from work the following Wednesday and finds Edward standing there in a khaki anorak looking a little damp and dishevelled from yet another shower. He carries a briefcase in one hand and a large bunch of yellow and pink tulips in the other.