“I almost married a guy called Bill in 1972, but I chickened out and ran off on the eve of my wedding. Poor Bill. I don’t know what became of him. Anyway, I went to Brighton because I’d heard it was, you know, easy going for people like me, or easier, at any rate. Plus I knew Bill would never find me there. And I met a woman called Mary Stokes pretty quickly, a very pretty, very militant feminist type. She did me the world of good. She helped me a lot. With my confidence and stuff. I loved her to bits really. We were together for almost twenty-two years.
“I did lots of different jobs over the years, too, including almost ten as a hospital maintenance engineer. They retired me in 2005 – against my will – and I volunteered at a women’s centre cum refuge place called The Eden until these Tory bastards cut the funding and they had to throw everyone out and close it down. And since then I’ve been mainly feeling sorry for myself if the truth be told.”
Alice claps her hands lightly. “Well done! That was succinct.”
“Like I said,” Joe tells her with a sideways wink. “I’ve had longer to prepare.”
“And what about Mary?” Alice asks. “Can I ask why that ended?”
“She died,” Joe says sadly. “The big C, I’m afraid. I… she…” Her voice fades out. She shakes her head and clears her throat.
“It’s fine,” Alice says. “I don’t need to know. I’m sorry for your loss, that’s all.”
“It was horrible, really,” Joe finally says. “As slow as Southern Rail and as painful as…” She shrugs, lost for a metaphor.
“Perdition?” Alice offers.
Joe nods. “Yes,” she says, her voice gravelly with emotion. “As painful as perdition. That will do. And you? Come on, share a little.”
Alice frowns. “What do you want to know?”
“You have children,” Joe says. “Tell me about them.”
“Yes,” Alice replies, smiling now. “Two boys. Tim and Matt. They’re um, forty-three and forty-eight. Tim’s the eldest. Gosh, doesn’t that sound old? Forty-eight!”
“And grandchildren?”
“Yes, two boys. Alex and Boris. Tim’s married to this very pretty, very bossy Russian girl. But I kind of like her nowadays. It wasn’t always the case.”
“So you all get on. That’s good.”
“Pretty much. Tim’s a banker. Quite a successful one.”
Joe, despite herself, pulls a face.
“I know…” Alice says. “He’s very materialistic too. He and Natalya both are.” Alice frowns at her own words. She’s noticing how much her own thinking has changed over the last few months. “I used to think he was the successful one of the two, to be honest,” she says, somehow explaining as much to herself as to Joe. “Matt was always a bit of a drifter. But I think Matt’s the happier of the two nowadays. Even though he lives like some kind of hermit.”
“Yes, money’s not everything, is it?”
“If you haven’t enough to eat and keep warm then it is,” Alice says. “But once you’ve got those covered… No. No, it’s not the answer to everything after all, is it?”
“And Matt and Tim. They’re both Ken’s children, right?”
“Yes,” Alice says. “Yes, they are. There was only Ken.”
“So tell me about that. Tell me how that all worked out for you.”
In the aisle, the stewards are beginning the safety demonstrations. This provides Alice with a fresh alibi for not replying immediately. She needs a moment to work out just how much she wants to tell Joe about Ken. “I think we should watch this,” she says, gesturing at Tracey who is holding a seatbelt above her head.
“Are you nervous, then?”
“No, not at all. But I feel a bit rude otherwise. What with them going to all this effort.”
“Fair point,” Joe says, turning to face the aisle. “I always think it looks a bit like one of those naff dance routines,” she murmurs from the corner of her mouth. “It always makes me think about Pan’s people. You know? On Top of the Pops.”
“Yes,” Alice says, smiling. “You’re right. It does look a bit like that.”
Once the plane has taken off and the stewards have stopped burbling about in-flight purchases, Alice continues. “So, Ken,” she says.
Joe reaches out to briefly touch her knee. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know I’m a nosey old so-and-so.”
“No, it’s fine,” Alice replies. “Just don’t ask me ‘why’ at any point.”
“Why? Don’t ask you why what?”
Alice shrugs. “Why any of it. It’s the only bit I get stuck with.”
“Oh, OK,” Joe says. “I promise not to ask why.”
“Ken was fine at first,” Alice says. “I mean, I didn’t really want to marry him, but he was nice enough to me.”
“Your parents were very pushy, as I recall.”
“They were.”
“Maybe I should have pushed harder in the other direction,” Joe offers doubtfully.
“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I was far too scared of… of the other direction. Anyway, Ken was OK at first. I got to quit my job.”
“God, the soap factory. I’d forgotten. You used to reek of it.”
“Horrible, wasn’t it? So I was quite happy about that.”
“But then…” Joe prompts.
“Well, he started drinking. I suppose that was the start of it. I mean, he always had a nasty temper on him, but when he drank it was worse.”
“That old story.”
“Yes. And to cut a very long story very very short, I put up with it for fifty years. And then this summer, something snapped and I walked out.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
“Where did you go? To start with, I mean.”
“To my friend Dot’s place. And then Tim’s. And then Matt’s.”
“In France?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s where you live now?”
Alice sighs. “Sort of,” she says. “It’s only temporary really. I’m staying in Bruno’s friend’s place. Bruno - that’s Matt’s friend.”
“His boyfriend.”
“Yes.”
“And this Dot,” Joe asks. “Is she a friend-friend or a friend-friend.”
Alice laughs. “Oh, she’s just a friend-friend. There have been no friend-friends.”
“Never?”
“No. Never.”
“And what about Matt and Bruno. How do we feel about them?”
“Hum,” Alice says, quietly. It’s the first time she’s had to put an answer to that question into words. “OK, I suppose,” she says. “I mean, I won’t say that it wasn’t a shock. And I won’t say it wasn’t upsetting. But when you meet him – when you meet Bruno – well, you’ll see. He’s sort of…” Alice rolls her eyes coquettishly. “He’s a bit irresistible, to tell the truth.”
“Yes,” Joe says. “I think I already fell for Bruno. On the phone.”
“He’s quite something special,” Alice admits.
“Yes,” Joe agrees. “Yes, I think he probably is.”
“Matt’s lovely too, of course,” Alice adds, suddenly feeling a little unfaithful towards her son.
“He’s yours,” Joe says. “He couldn’t be any other way.”
“Huh! Anyway, that’s about it I think, news-wise,” Alice says. She turns and stares at Joe. She reaches out and squeezes her arm. “God, I can’t believe that you’re actually here!” she says.
“I know,” Joe says. “It’s strange, isn’t it? But nice! So what about Ken? How are things between you now you’re… Are you separated or divorced?”
“Just separated,” Alice says. “For the moment, anyway. And I don’t know, really. They’re polite, I suppose. Polite but strained.”
“Do you think you will divorce?”
“I’m not sure. Probably. For the moment, things are quite… quite easy this way. I just use my bank card like before. I haven’t had to worry a
bout transferring pensions or anything. At one point I thought he was being inexplicably generous about it all, but when I spoke to him I realised that he just doesn’t want to have to sell the house. And taxes. He’s always worrying about the most tax efficient way to do everything, so I expect his accountant has told him it’s better this way too.”
“But doesn’t that give him power over you?”
Alice shrugs. “Not really,” she says. “I’ve put some money aside, just in case. And I’m sure I’ll have to do it all properly at some point. But for the moment, it’s quite nice not having to worry about it all. And I’m not exactly a big spender. So I think Ken thinks it’s cheaper for him this way.”
“Well, it will be cheaper than giving you half of everything.”
“Quite.”
“And how’s he coping? With being alone, I mean.”
Alice shakes her head vaguely. “I don’t know. That’s the honest answer. He’s always been something of a mystery to me.”
“Right.”
“He seemed… unaffected, really. The house seemed tidy. Very tidy. And there was half a shepherd’s pie in the fridge – I peeped. So maybe he’s not alone. But he seemed fine. He seemed, as I say, unaffected.”
“Did you stay there?”
“Oh no! No, I just visited for an hour. We needed to talk. About the money thing. And I wanted to get more clothes.”
A ripple of panic rises in Alice’s chest at thought of her suddenly absent suitcase, but then she remembers checking it in and relaxes. “We argued, actually,” she continues. “Well, we started to. He said something about it all being my decision to leave. He said it was me who had upped and left. As if it hadn’t been… As if he hadn’t…” Her voice peters out.
“It’s OK if you don’t want to go into it,” Joe tells her again. “I’ve heard it all before, anyway.”
“Yes,” Alice says. “I’m sure. But he hit me. That’s why I left. He punched me in the face.”
Joe nods and sighs gently.
“And it wasn’t the first time. Not by a long shot. Only this time, the kids were gone and…”
“You felt free to leave.”
“Yes. I suppose that’s it. But to hear him talk, it was as if none of it had ever happened. It was as if I’d just upped and walked out on a whim.”
“No remorse, then?”
“None. I’m not sure he even remembers it, to be honest. I think he wipes things from his memory. Things that might trouble him. Anyway, we started to argue, so I left.”
“Were you scared of him? Did you think he might get violent again?”
“No. Dot was outside in the car with her pepper spray, bless her. But no, I just realised that there was no point. That I didn’t need him to agree with me. That I didn’t care anymore what he thinks. So I left.”
“That sounds very wise,” Joe says.
Alice shrugs and opens her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the flight attendant, Tracey, asking, “Any drinks?”
“Are they free?” Joe asks.
“No, Madam,” Tracey says in a strong Essex accent. “But there’s a price list in the seat pocket in front of you.”
“Just get what you want,” Alice tells her. “Let it be my treat.”
“But they rip you off something terrible on these cheap flights,” Joe says.
“Ken’s paying,” Alice says, reaching into her handbag for her purse. “So let him treat you, too. Go on. You know you want to.”
Joe laughs. “Put that way…” she says, turning back to the hostess. “I’ll have a gin and tonic please.”
“Ooh, that’s naughty,” Alice laughs. “I think I might have one too.”
Once the gin and tonics have been served and the bill paid (Alice breathes in sharply when she hears the price, but manages to smile throughout the payment process), Joe takes a deep, visibly satisfying sip of her drink and says, “So, Alice, tell me. You must have dabbled at some point in the last fifty years.”
“Dabbled?” Alice asks, raising her own glass to her lips. “Ooh, that is good.”
“Yes. You must have had a fling at some point?”
“Oh!” Alice exclaims. “Dabbled. That’s what they’re calling it these days, are they?”
“No,” Joe says. “No, they’re not.”
“But, no,” Alice replies, taking another sip for Dutch courage. “Never.”
“Not one kiss?”
“No. Like I said, there was only ever Ken.”
“What about crushes? Did you ever have a crush?”
Alice looks dubitative. She squeezes the slice of lemon in her drink then sucks her fingers before replying. “Not really. I had a friend called Lisa who I liked a little more than I should have, perhaps. But nothing ever happened. She was married too. So it was just a friendship thing. But we were close enough that Ken got jealous. I used to find myself saying ‘Lisa said this’ and ‘Lisa said that.’ But no, it never went beyond friendship. And she moved to New Zealand in the end.”
Joe nods. “It’s funny really, because I always sort of assumed that you’d ended up like me.”
“I think I was always a bit different to you,” Alice says. “Even back then, things seemed… I don’t know… simpler, perhaps, for you?”
The plane hits a pocket of turbulence, and bounces violently for a few seconds. Both Alice and Joe reach to steady their drinks.
“Hum. I’m not keen on the bumpy thing,” Joe comments.
“It’s OK,” Alice reassures her. “It’s over now. But as I was saying, it just never really felt like an option for me. Of course, things changed over the years. You started to see… people like that… on the telly and stuff. But by then I was married. I had children. I felt like I’d made my choices, really.”
Joe nods. “I understand. There’s a lot of it about.”
“A lot of what?”
Joe shrugs. “Confusion?” she offers.
“I didn’t feel confused,” Alice says honestly. “Not at the time. But perhaps I was. Or perhaps I was too busy bringing up a family to be confused. And what about you?” Alice asks, sucking her slice of lemon.
“Gosh, you still do that?” Joe comments.
“What?”
“Suck lemons.”
Alice pulls the rind from her mouth and places it on the tray. “Apparently. So… you? Were you never attracted to a… oh, sorry, you told me you were. Bill, wasn’t it?”
Joe sniggers. “Not sure about attracted to him,” she says. “But I almost got married. And we did sleep together once.”
Joe is grinning broadly now, prompting Alice to ask her why.
“Oh, I’m just remembering,” Joe says. “I counted the squares. He had this wallpapered ceiling, and I lied there while he… you know… did the deed… counting the squares. All of them. There were four hundred and twenty or something. I think that’s when I realised that my heart wasn’t in it.”
“You were lucky to get to four hundred and twenty,” Alice says, a cheeky grin on her face.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you wouldn’t have got past thirty with Ken.”
Joe snorts, causing gin and tonic to go up her nose. “You’re terrible, Alice. You always were.”
“It’s you. I think you bring out the worst in me. You always did.”
“So, what about now?” Joe asks.
“Now?”
“Yes, are you hoping to meet a man or a woman?”
Alice laughs heartily. “Oh, I’m not looking to meet anyone!”
“Really?”
“Oh, absolutely! No, I want to… I don’t know… be peaceful, perhaps? To not have fights with anyone anymore. To take the time to think about me a little. I don’t feel like I ever had the time to… well, to wonder who I am, really. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet, to be honest. Just being quiet and calm and reading and listening to music. Not having to justify myself. Not being scared when I walk in the door. I just want to be peaceful, I think. And to make pe
ace, perhaps. With my sons. With myself. Does that make any sense at all?”
“It makes perfect sense,” Joe says.
“But you’d like to meet someone new?”
“Oh yes. Yes, I always hope to meet someone new. But at my age it’s so much harder. There’s so much less malleability if you know what I mean.”
“We get set in our ways?”
“Exactly. When I met Mary, I had no idea who I was. I just let myself fit around her really. But nowadays, I think it would be challenging to try to fit to someone new. That’s why I always feel so jealous of couples who have spent their whole lives together. People who’ve had the chance to become who they are together. To, you know, knock all the hard corners off so that they fit together perfectly. Mary and I had that for a while.”
Alice looks doubtful. “It’s OK, I suppose, as long as there’s some give and take. As long as it’s both of you doing the fitting. In some relationships, it’s just one partner whose corners get bashed off, sadly. Sometimes the other person in the relationship is as hard as nails.”
“Like Ken?”
Alice shrugs. “I certainly don’t think he ever made much effort to fit around me, around my personality.”
“That’s a shame,” Joe says.
“Yes. It is.”
“Do you remember how well we used to get on?” Joe asks.
Alice smiles. “I do.”
“We never argued once, did we?”
“Only when you stole my court shoes. I was furious about that. They were brand new.”
“I didn’t steal them,” Joe says. “I borrowed them. And it was only because wearing them made me feel closer to you. Like we were people who shared each other’s clothes, like sisters or something.”
“Or something,” Alice repeats, with meaning.
“Well, you knew what I wanted.”
“Did I?” Alice asks.
“I wanted what I had with Mary. But with you.”
“Yes, I know that now,” Alice says. “I’m just not sure what I knew back then. I don’t think things were as clear cut as you think they were.”
***
When Matt reaches the airport terminal, he sees Bruno sitting alone on the far side. He’s holding a plastic coffee cup and staring into the middle distance.
The Other Son (Christmas Bonus): A short-story length sequel for The Other Son Page 2