Beyond the Arch

by David Evered

  ‘Yes, that would be good and news about you and those whom I’ve come to know through you would be more than welcome. I’d anticipated that the two part discussion which I felt that we, or maybe just I, needed to have would be much more emotionally difficult than it has been and I’m grateful. We have shared deeply felt emotions and are still loving friends and, whatever emerges from my reflections and convoluted thinking, that will always remain a treasured memory.’

  ‘That sounds like a valediction.’

  ‘No, simply an au revoir’.

  31

  The long and tedious journey back to London on the Bank Holiday Monday was not improved by delays caused by an accident on the dual carriageway. The slow, intermittent forward movements of the traffic were further impeded by futile exercises in lane-changing by impatient drivers. They duly parted and Sally promised to have read the draft of his novel within the week. There would be a chance to meet and discuss it before she returned to France.

  The following day Peter languished in bed until after nine and eventually rose. For the first time for many months he lingered over his coffee and wondered how he might fill his time now that he was temporarily freed from his self-imposed routine. Almost three months of his sabbatical year remained. He wandered listlessly around the flat and then went out to buy a newspaper. He skimmed through it but there was little that held his attention or stimulated his curiosity. The sense of resolution and purpose which had driven him to embark on his personal odyssey and the vigour and zeal with which he had pursued his vision had evaporated. They had been replaced by irresolution and doubt. All elements of his life were in a state of uncertainty and disarray. Some of the factors which would enable him to reset his compass were wholly outside his control. Questions circulated endlessly in his mind. Would his literary efforts pass muster when judged by professionals? If they did, would they have sufficient commercial impact to enable him to be a full-time author? If so, did he have a second or third or subsequent book in him? Had he simply poured everything he had into his first manuscript? Did he have a clear view of his personal future? Would it be with Sally? Could it be with Sally? Had his dalliance with Julie been of any lasting or symbolic significance? Would his current doubts in relation to his emotional life ever be replaced by the certitude which had been its hallmark previously? Might he develop an attachment to someone else or might he remain unattached, at least for the foreseeable future? If the last of these, would or could it lead to contentment? Was he prepared to return to work and settle into the often monotonous and painstaking routine of family law after this sabbatical year? Did he wish to continue living in suburban Barnes when a life in France had so many potential attractions?

  It was evident that he needed to make some decisions about his future before the month was out. He felt it would be helpful to rehearse these quandaries with Michael who had invited him for supper on the Saturday. He telephoned the senior partner in his practice and made an appointment to meet him a week later to discuss his return to work. This minor administrative task completed, he continued to sit at his desk contemplatively as he moved one or two items around haphazardly on the surface. It occurred to him that it was often said that first novels were autobiographical or based on real life experience. He started to entertain the notion that a fictionalised account of his intellectual and emotional peregrinations in pursuit of his goal might provide the basis for a further novel, even if this would require him to expose his own thoughts and innermost feelings. He reflected that the events of the last year had made it possible for him to think of doing so to an extent that would have been inconceivable previously. Some of the vignettes he had composed could be incorporated into such a narrative. Stimulated by the idea, he began to draft an outline for a further work and the action of transmitting his ideas to paper rapidly developed its own momentum. It took no more than a day for his work routine to re-establish itself.

  * * *

  Michael opened the door to Peter as he arrived for supper. ‘I know you said you’d like to use me as a sounding board this evening, as you wrestle with the self-imposed complexities of your life,’ he said with a smile, ‘but I hope you won’t mind that I have another guest here tonight.’

  Peter looked a little disappointed. ‘I had been hoping for a discussion à deux.’

  ‘I’m sure we could still do that and you may not feel too uncomfortable to have a second sounding board, particularly one who is already fairly familiar with the intricacies of your life.’

  He looked puzzled. ‘Have you been briefing someone about me?’

  ‘No, I’m not the source of her information. You may have been floating through the last year on cloud nine but, she is as aware as I am, that everywhere your cloud has rested there have been considerable atmospheric disturbances. Come on through.’

  He followed Michael into the flat and found Sue sitting with a glass of wine in her hand. She got up and kissed Peter. ‘You may be surprised to see me here.’

  ‘I’m responsible,’ said Michael, ‘and I should explain. We met on New Year’s Eve, as you know, in your flat. I was very taken with Sue and the two of us talked a lot quietly that evening. Amongst other things, she told me that she was singing in a choir. I wanted to see her again so, as I used to be a chorister in the cathedral as a kid, I showed up, was auditioned and accepted. It was devious, I know, but then I am a lawyer. That sort of thing comes naturally to me and it was a means to an end. Over the last few months we’ve seen a lot of each other – and I’m enjoying the singing as well! You’ve been so preoccupied that you’ve clearly been unaware of the trysts taking place in the flat beneath yours!’ He sat on the settee next to Sue and put his arm around her. ‘I cannot remember when I was last as content as I am at present.’

  ‘It has been wonderful for me too,’ said Sue. ‘This is the first time that I’ve felt able to be close to someone since Andrew died and it simply feels right. We both have a lot to thank you for.’

  ‘I am surprised and was obviously blind not to have spotted Michael’s, probably rather furtive, comings and goings. I’m very happy and, he’s right, you probably do know as much as anyone about the intricacies of my life. His crack about my presence being associated with atmospheric disturbances has a grain of truth in it, but only a grain. I have on a number of occasions felt that I’ve been at the eye of a series of storms but I would point out, as scientists do, that association is not necessarily evidence of causation!’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s not simply a specious evasion.’

  ‘You’re being too hard on me. But tell me about your plans and all the developments in your lives to which I’ve been so blind.’

  ‘Well, you’ve picked up on the most important development. You know I was short-listed for a safe seat in the north-west. Well, I missed out on that but I was contacted subsequently. They told me that I had been regarded as a strong second and would be high on the list if the candidate was ultimately unable to stand, or for another suitable seat. Realistically, that will not happen now the date of the election has been announced and is only weeks away. The best hope would be if there were to be a bye-election in the next year or two. I hope it would still be in the north-west. Sue travelled with me for the interviews and was an invaluable asset – but she is much more than that. Now, tell us what you plan to do, as your leave of absence must be nearly up.’

  ‘I would if I could but I simply don’t know at present. I’m not in a position to resolve some of my uncertainties. I’ve completed a draft of a novel and Sally is having a preliminary look at it with instructions to be brutally frank. It will then need to be reviewed by an agent and that all takes time. If it clears these hurdles, then there will be a question of getting it published and publicised. There are still several mountains to climb. The challenges are daunting. There are occasions when I feel I’ve been instructed to travel to the moon and only provided with a bicycle for the journey! I’m hopin
g matters will become clearer over the next few months. Of course, my sabbatical is up in ten weeks or so and I must talk seriously to my partners about returning to work. In the meantime, I’ve started to write another book – the process of writing is becoming a bit of an obsession. Clearly, I shall have to go back to work, even if I decide to leave permanently at a later date.’

  ‘It sounds as if you would prefer to carve out a new career for yourself away from the partnership.’

  ‘Yes, I think it does but I shall have to have a means of earning a crust. The judgement might be that my book is crap and that I have no real literary talent.’

  ‘Have you thought of working part-time? The centre is always looking for lawyers and there are several who work part-time. In this day and age, there are a number of opportunities for part-time working.’

  ‘No, but that’s a good suggestion.’

  ‘Now tell us about Sally.’

  ‘She has been working away at her projects and we have met up most weekends. She’ll be returning to France in two or three weeks’ time. She says she needs a long period of solitude to work through the projects she has in hand and to resolve a number of personal issues and, to forestall your question, she tells me that I am the foremost of those.’

  ‘And how do you feel about it?’ asked Sue.

  ‘I understand and respect her requirement to think. She is an independent woman.’

  ‘She’s certainly that but that was a very neutral response and strictly not an answer to the question I was asking.’

  Peter smiled. ‘I thought I wouldn’t get away with that! My response was simply a lawyerly side-step. I guess my real answer to your question is that I simply don’t know. She has been my lover, my friend and my mentor and the last of those has not only been in relation to my writing. She has enabled me to see the world not just through a new lens but through many different lenses. She has, I believe, made me more perceptive, more tolerant, more empathic and more analytical, and less critical of others. She herself has had a challenging life. Her twin brother died in his teens and she lost both her parents over the course of the next two or three years. She is determinedly independent and, yes, I love her dearly but am I in love? I simply don’t know and I’m not sure that I have a yardstick by which to calibrate such emotions.’

  ‘So, what next?’

  ‘Sally must have the time she needs. She’s not scared, but she is wary of involvement and commitment. She has this deep-seated concern that any relationship might also prove fragile and transient. This is a dilemma for me, as I guess it would be for any potential suitor. An excess of fervour on my part would probably raise concerns about the durability and sincerity of the underlying emotions, while too laid back an approach might imply a lack of seriousness and commitment. To answer the other part of your question, I shall probably return to work, at least for a time, but without enthusiasm. Whatever the future holds for me, this year has changed me irrevocably and, whether successful or otherwise as a writer, I can see that I shall have to re-shape my life.’

  ‘And if Sally returns, having overcome her gremlins?’

  ‘I guess there are several possible scenarios which may or may not involve a closer relationship. I really don’t know what the outcome might be. But bring me up to date with what has been happening with Ann.’

  ‘As you know, she left my flat late in January and is now renting one in Birmingham. She calls from time to time and sounds more at ease than she was, perhaps more than at any time that I’ve known her. She told me that she had wanted to come back to you but that you felt it would not work out well for either of you. I think you are right and I suspect she would agree now. I believe that the spectacle on the morning of New Year’s Day, with that amazing scene of Jenny naked and wearing no more than a challenging look, had a deep impact on her.’ She paused, ‘But I believe she would like to keep in contact with you as a friend.’

  The evening ended and as Peter rose to leave, he looked at Sue. ‘I suspect that I’m wasting my time in offering you a lift home.’

  She looked at him. ‘Yes, I’m happy to say it would be a waste of your time!’

  * * *

  Sally called on the Monday morning to say that she had finished reading his draft and asked him to her flat for lunch. He arrived and greeted her with some anxiety. ‘Sit down and have a glass of wine.’

  ‘Is it that bad?’

  ‘No, Peter, I enjoyed it. You write well, but I knew that from the vignettes you wrote when we were in France. That’s not to say that it couldn’t be improved, but that’s true of all manuscripts. The tale you tell is a touching one and the narrative is quite compelling. I was drawn along always wanting to know what would happen next. Some of the twists in the storyline had the capacity to surprise while I felt that others didn’t work quite so well. I said to you earlier I’m not a professional assessor of manuscripts nor am I a literary agent but I think it’s certainly good enough to get an opinion from one. I’ve made some suggestions in pencil and I think it would be worth a further revision before submitting it for evaluation. I should be happy to recommend a former colleague who is an agent and that at least will ensure that it is read. Please don’t take the view that my measured comments mean that I’m lukewarm about it. I enjoyed the script and do hope that you’ll be successful but you know it’s not easy to get published. I hope nonetheless you’ll feel that your year out has yielded its own rewards even if it is never published.’

  ‘Thank you for doing that. I’m happy to give it a try after a further revision and, in answer to your last comment, this year has indeed been a revelation. Even if ultimately I spend my days as a jobbing solicitor, I shall never regret what it has offered me and what you have offered me.’

  ‘So how are you occupying your time before returning to the law, although I suspect that you have no great eagerness to do that?’

  ‘No, you’re right. I’ve been doing a number of practical things, attempting to resolve some of the uncertainties in my life although some are outside my control. I’ve taken up writing again and discovered that it’s habit-forming. I have also seen Michael. He has fallen for Sue in a big way and vice versa. She’s a different woman now. I was just so happy to see them both together. I think this is likely to be the real thing for both of them. I’ve also heard from Jenny. She has asked me to join her, Stefan and Cass for a musical evening in Camden this Friday. She particularly asked that I should invite you to join us.’

  ‘Let’s do that. It fits in perfectly as I shall be going back to France on Sunday.’

  32

  Peter saw his senior partner and arranged to return to work on the first of July. ‘You’ve started something now,’ he was told. ‘Others are indicating that they too would like to have a sabbatical. One good thing has come from it though. Grace, the locum you found, is excellent. She’s looking around for other openings so I’ve been looking to see if we could afford to keep her on. The workload has risen and if others are planning to take leave of absence then there are good reasons for extending her appointment as an associate. Ultimately, it will all be a matter of what we can afford. I shall take that thought to the partners meeting next week and it might be helpful if you were to come along as well.’ Peter agreed to do so but, prompted by what he had just heard, the idea that he might negotiate a return on a part-time basis was starting to develop in his mind.

  The partners meeting went well for Peter. The discussion focused on the affordability of another solicitor and whether this could be justified on the basis of the increased workload and the enhanced fee income which it would generate. It became increasingly clear that the arguments were finely balanced and at this point Peter proposed that he work three days a week while retaining his position as a partner, with a commensurate reduction in his share of the profits. He left the room while his colleagues considered this possibility and was recalled to be informed that his propositio
n was accepted, subject to certain restrictions on his freedom to practise independently. He was happy to agree.

  * * *

  ‘Don’t think about the future tonight – simply enjoy the present,’ Sally whispered in his ear when they met to join Jenny, Stefan and Cass for the evening.

  ‘This will be an evening of farewells,’ he said sadly. ‘You will be back in France in two days’ time and in a few weeks, reluctantly, I shall have to abandon my sabbatical year. I’ve taken so much more than leave of absence from my profession. I’ve said farewell to many of the inhibitions and limitations that my imperfect vision allowed everyday life to impose on me. I hope I can return to the Elysian Fields I’ve inhabited this last year, but I’m not sure I shall be able to do so. Nor do I know whether such a path is open to a traveller on a part-time basis! I’m also not sure that I’ve the talent or the courage to burn my bridges comprehensively behind me. But I shall certainly continue to make nostalgic visits to the places that have been the waymarks on my journey.’

  Jenny introduced Sally to Cass and Stefan. ‘We have news,’ said Cass. ‘Stefan is about to go on tour so we have decided, very amicably, to spend some time apart. It has worked well and we have had fun, especially in France when we camped by your house, Sally, but neither of us is ready yet to make a long-term commitment.’

  ‘Sally and I were saying just before you arrived that this was, for us, an evening of farewells. It sounds as though that may have been more prophetic than either of us imagined.’

  ‘But why are you saying farewell? Are you parting company?’

  ‘Yes and no. Sally needs some time alone to work and to think through her future and I’m ending a journey which has meant so much to me, as I return to the law, at least part-time. It was in many ways, most ways, more of a pilgrimage that a journey. I’m not really sure if the journey has ended or if it has only just begun. It’s possible it will continue, or I might be on the threshold of another voyage or I might be going nowhere! I said to myself more than a year ago that I didn’t want my life to be haunted by thoughts of what might have been. My mind is now dominated by innumerable “what ifs”.’