I read and re-read it. I don’t know what I expected. There were no kisses, no suggestion to meet or speak or next steps or even a request for the answer to the invitation. I could see he was being true to his word and letting me set the pace. But I was disappointed that yet again it was left to me to make the next move, even though I didn’t yet know what move I wanted to make. This was an unexpected situation to find myself in.
I was confused but also surprised to find myself feeling excited. Why, why was I excited? I had been cheated on before. I knew Ed claimed he had not cheated but he had broken my heart, and trust, nonetheless.
Several boyfriends had been unfaithful. The first time I had been a teenager. My first proper boyfriend had passed me a note during harvest festival supper saying I was pretty. I was so shocked. No one had ever said that before and at first I was convinced either the note was meant for someone else, or that he was pulling my leg and if I responded positively he and his friends would laugh at me. But it turned out to be real and we started hanging out together. Back then there was nothing more intimate than kisses, but he was a bit of a rebel and often got me in trouble.
Some months later a friend told me he was seeing two other girls and I dumped him. He may have been cute and cheeky, but I was not going to lower myself to that level.
Many years later through the power of social media we reconnected, only electronically. He was married, with children and living on the other side of the world. The first question he asked was what perfume I used to wear, as he had often tried to find it and could not. I could not remember, so suggested a couple of possibilities, neither of which was right. His second question was why had I dumped him? That one I could answer and did. He had replied, ‘that sounds like me’. I was, however, rather disappointed he didn’t remember.
The second time I was cheated on was some years later. It hadn’t been the greatest of relationships. He was tall and thin, and I was short and, well, you know the rest. The problem was I could never get rid of that image from my mind.
We had met in a nightclub. He recognised me from work and made his approach. I have to confess that despite his height I hadn’t seen him before. It turned out we worked in the same building, just one floor apart.
We had fun and dated for several months. I got to know his friends and his life.
One weekend I was at a friend’s hen do while he attended the company summer party. When I went to see him on my return he told me the relationship was over. He had got together with someone else at work.
Apparently this very dour strait-laced lady had targeted him. It didn’t surprise me, she had been curt with me, I would even go further and say she was rude, after she had found out we were dating. Clearly adultery was not part of her beliefs. She had decided I was not good enough for him but she was, and set out to snare him.
I was not that bothered, in truth, our relationship was not going anywhere. He was the first person I had dated after a long relationship and it helped me get back on the bicycle, so to speak. That was cheat number two.
Number three was altogether much worse, although it did give me the opportunity to end yet another disastrous relationship.
Thinking about it now, maybe that is my thing. Maybe I’m cheated on when I have disconnected from the relationship and, being the type of person who wears my heart on my sleeve, my boyfriends are left in no doubt that I’m no longer engaged in the relationship and decide to jump before they are pushed. Or maybe it’s deeper than that. I seem to attract the waifs and strays, the hard-done-by, the damaged. I patiently invest my time, money and love to heal them, restore them. And when my work is done, they fly away and some new lady gets the benefit of my dedication. That seems more like it, having been the waif and stray myself when I was born. My birth mother was unable to raise me and so my parents adopted me and gave me the love, the nurturing and the life to make me strong. Maybe rescuing others was my way to pay back karma for saving me.
Of course I am no angel. I cheated once. That relationship had been good, but we had grown apart, not just emotionally but also physically, as he had taken a job a couple of hundred miles away and our visits became less frequent.
I wanted out but couldn’t work out how to do it. Immaturity, I guess. I should have just told him. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. However, in the end I had got drunk and thrown myself at a male friend on a night out. He had rejected me but I was told in no uncertain terms that either I told my boyfriend or he would.
So I fessed up.
Many years later I met him again at the wedding of mutual friends and he admitted that if I hadn’t ended it he would have, so there were no hard feelings. To everyone’s delight there were no arguments but instead a lot of laughter and dancing.
Back to the present
What I learnt from all of these events was that once the trust has gone, it has gone. Then all you do is waste time trying to get it back, to recapture it, to move on, but in the end it never fully returns and you question every late arrival, unexpected change of plans, sly glances at the phone, calls taken in different rooms. All possibly innocent, but never perceived that way once the trust has gone.
Ed and I were too old to waste time. I was not looking for another relationship so I didn’t need him back in my life. And yet, I sighed deeply, clearly I was not going to resolve the situation that night.
I finished my wine, threw my phone in my bag and wearily climbed the stairs to bed.
Sleep didn’t come easily. I tossed and turned in bed, my mind in as much turmoil as my body.
With all the stress I was experiencing at work I really didn’t have the energy for this.
My final thought as I lost consciousness was that I was going to tell Ed that this would never work out, so better to knock it on the head sooner rather than later.
I lay in bed the next morning, not ready to get up, or ready to face the day, feeling exhausted despite only just waking. I needed to get up and do something positive, but I didn’t want to drag my warm body from under the snuggly duvet and out into the cold day.
I stuck my foot out from under the duvet and briskly pulled it back into the warmth. I pulled the duvet up round my neck, savouring the comfort for a few minutes more. I needed more sleep, but now I was awake my mind wouldn’t rest.
The situation with Ed kept turning over in my mind and despite having made the decision just a few hours before to end the misery, now I was questioning it. I had strong feelings for Ed despite what had happened. I didn’t want to be alone again. I had my routine, my equilibrium, and now all of that had gone. I was no longer content to go back to that way of life. But neither could I trust Ed. I couldn’t see a way back.
I needed fresh air. I needed to clear my head.
I had a shower, enjoying the warm water starting to wake me up, and as I stood there the tears began to tumble down my face. I sobbed big, painful tears, obscured by the water. The only indication that they were present were my heaving shoulders. I put my hand out to the tiled wall to steady myself and bring myself back under control. I felt even more drained by the time I stepped out and wrapped myself in a huge, fluffy bath towel. I reprimanded myself as I dried. I had to sort my head out.
I skipped breakfast and even forewent a coffee, desperate to be out in the autumnal air.
I headed out of town along the main road, past the supermarket, and then started to climb the hill.
The path separated from the road and climbed above it through the arch of trees and bushes that had interwoven above the path to create a secret tunnel sheltered from the weather and the noise of the road. At that time of year it was a riot of autumnal colours, the leaves an array of shades and hues of green, yellow, orange and red, clinging to the trees and strewn across the path where they had lost their fight in the first heavy rain and wind of the season.
It was tranquil. It made me feel cocooned, protected and safe, th
e beauty of the surroundings occupying me. I slowed my pace, wanting this to last forever. I drank in the atmosphere. I stopped and breathed deeply. Luckily this was not a popular route and I was not disturbed in my reflectiveness.
I drank in the damp autumn air and steadied my nerves. I knew the facts, the emotions, and finally I knew my decision, for definite this time.
Feeling at peace I decided to continue my walk. I was enjoying being out and the exercise was good for me.
An hour later I arrived home, having picked up the obligatory coffee to stay my caffeine craving, and I had thrown caution to the wind and thrown in a freshly baked croissant, having been unable to resist the smell from the bakery as I passed, the smell of hot butter and pastry drawing me in to make the purchase.
After breakfast I cleaned the house, giving it an extra thorough going-over as it delayed the moment when I would need to contact Ed.
I had been gearing myself up to call him, working and reworking the words, keen to get it exactly right. I should have stopped and written it down rather than overthinking it, but I had nothing else to occupy my mind whilst monotonously pushing the hoover back and forth, moving furniture out and back into place as I went.
Despite the weather outside it was warm in the house and I was sweating by the time I finished. As I was putting the hoover back in the understairs cupboard there was a loud knock at the door.
I was annoyed by the intrusion, as I was ready for ‘the talk’, but instead I was making my way towards the front door. I looked a mess and more than that I was not expecting any visitors. Hopefully it was just someone canvassing or delivering a package to a neighbour who was out. Either way I was not in the mood to be interrupted.
I pulled the door open, trying to indicate to the caller that I was in no mood to be delayed from my intended actions. As I did so I came face to face with an exhausted, bedraggled face. It took me a second and then my heart leapt into my mouth.
“Ed!” I said with surprise. “Are you okay?” I was still standing holding the door open.
He looked me in the eyes. His sad, tired eyes bore into me, into my heart and soul. I stepped forward and threw my arms around him, drawing him into a heartfelt hug.
He didn’t say a word, he just succumbed to the hug. He held me close and I could feel his hot breath on my neck. Just a few weeks before, this would have been the start of something animal-like and sexual but there was no hint of that passion in this embrace. This was two people clinging to each other for strength and support, for comfort, out of need not desire. We stood there holding each other like that was the only thing stopping us from collapsing, the only thing keeping us alive.
He sighed, a deep, guttural sigh, and I felt him loosen his grip. I followed his lead and we moved apart. His hands ran down the outside of my arms until they reached my hands which he held onto, and looked at me, still looking so forlorn.
I released the grip of one hand and turned, still holding his other hand, and led him into my home, closing the door behind us. He still hadn’t spoken.
I led him to the sofa and we sat down in unison. I was unsure what to say. I had asked a question which he hadn’t replied to. Maybe it was a daft question given his appearance, but I didn’t know why he was here. I was surprised at how good it had felt to be in his arms again and how much I still felt for him. Perhaps it was my need to rescue the lost or maybe it was my maternal instincts, not that I really had any. But something was stirred inside me that Saturday afternoon.
I sat quietly looking at him. He looked like he had shrunken in on himself, like a heavy weight was pressing in on him from all sides. Clearly he needed help and unlike the last time we had sat here, I felt no anger or animosity towards him. I reached out and lightly touched his hand. He slowly raised his eyes to mine like there were lead weights in his eyelids.
“I’m so sorry,” he said slowly, quietly, shaking his head in an equally pained and weary way. “I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted to cause you pain. I thought I was doing the right thing in telling you, in being honest with you, but it had the opposite effect and I have regretted that ever since and I have missed you so, so much.”
“Ed, your honesty was not the problem. I’m glad you are that type of person. If you’re not honest there can be no trust. Don’t for a minute think you did the wrong thing by telling me,” I said slowly and calmly, constantly looking at his fallen face. “I was upset because I had come to accept a single life and then you appeared out of the blue and made me think I might not have to be alone. Then I fell in love with you. I saw our future, living together, happy. Then suddenly it came to an end. The hurt in my life came flooding out and I just couldn’t cope – mentally or physically.”
Ed was staring at me through pained eyes. I had been so focused on my own hurt it had never occurred to me that he could be suffering too.
I changed tack. Clearly he was still in a bad place, a place I had dragged myself out of recently.
I picked up his hand and rubbed my thumb over the back of his hand as he had done to me in our happier days together.
“I’m sorry too,” I said, to both our surprise. “I hadn’t realised how hard this has been for you too. I was so wrapped up in my own pain I didn’t stop to think about your feelings.”
He smiled weakly at me, then said, “After your text I couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to hold you, to be with you, but then I couldn’t see how we could get back to where we were. I couldn’t sleep. I got up and went for a walk. I walked and walked through the night. I didn’t know where I was going. I fell into a couple of ditches in the dark, but I couldn’t get away from my thoughts. Eventually I found myself here. I’ve been walking around the block for the last hour. I didn’t know what to do, whether to wait until you called or to come and see you. But I’m exhausted and I needed so much to see you and here I am.”
I was dumbfounded. No wonder he looked so bad, but there was no way he could have walked all the way here, it would have taken longer than one night. Ed read my mind.
“I moved down last week,” he confessed. “I’m in one of the police houses until I can find somewhere more permanent to rent or buy,” he said in a flat, exhausted tone.
I realised that this was not just about our relationship, he had also moved down for his new job. I hadn’t given it any thought. If I had I would have wondered if he had changed his mind and stayed closer to his family. Although on the other hand he was here for the interview the day we met again. It was a career advancement, so maybe I was just the icing on the cake rather than the cake itself.
“You must be exhausted, and if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t smell too good either. So I’m not going to beat about the bush or make you wait, I am going to be totally honest with you. I want to be with you.”
His face lifted, as did his whole demeanour. There was life back in his dark eyes and relief on his face.
“But,” I said firmly, “it’s not going to be easy. You will need to work hard to regain my trust. We go back to dating and take each day at a time and see where we end up.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he implored.
I shushed him and made a suggestion. “Why don’t you go and have a shower and have a sleep, you know where the towels are. When you’re rested we will talk some more.”
“Thank you. That sounds like a good idea and I’m sorry to have turned up in this state.” He waved his hands over his body to make the point.
“I’m not looking too hot myself,” I confessed, for the first time realising how sweaty I had been when he arrived.
He leant forward and kissed me on the cheek.
“You always look beautiful to me,” he said with his winning cheeky smile.
He rose and made his way up the old familiar stairs.
As I heard the shower spring into life I picked up my bag and let myself out of the house. I had very little foo
d in the fridge and I didn’t know what time Ed would wake, so I popped to the shop to get a mix of easy and quick-to-prepare food, some wine and some milk.
When I got home the house was in silence, as it had been for so many days and weeks recently.
For a moment I held my breath, fearing he had changed his mind again and had disappeared.
As I hovered at the bottom of the stairs I was relieved to hear the soft snores emanating from my bedroom.
I crept up the stairs. In the stillness I heard every creak and crack of the stairs. Why does the house make so much noise when all I want is for it to be quiet? I thought as I peered in through the door, smiling, so happy to see Ed sleeping peacefully, if noisily, in my bed, where he belonged.
I stood there for a while, watching him breathe in and out. I knew I had made the right decision, but I was going to protect myself if I could.
I crept back downstairs and unpacked my canvas bags of shopping.
I lit the stove, creating a warm glow as the flames licked the sides of the fire bricks that lined the inside of the black stove. Once the fire was underway and I had loaded a couple of logs to sustain it, I picked up my book and curled up on the sofa, grateful for the distraction, to be taken to another world of Elizabethan England.
As the light drained from the sky I lifted myself from the sofa, added more logs to the fire, drew the curtains and turned on the lights. As I resumed my position on the sofa I heard the stairs creak and turned to see Ed making his way downstairs, sleep still in his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” I asked gently.
He sat down next to me before answering. “I feel a lot better than I did, thank you. And thank you for putting me out of my misery before I went up. I don’t think I could have slept without that chat. Thank you.”
“It’s okay, I have been thinking about you non-stop since last night and had already come to a decision. I had been planning to call you this afternoon but I’m glad you came, it was much better to talk face to face. It will take time. I’m not open to having my heart broken again, so you will need to prove yourself.” He looked down. “But I know I want you in my life, I know I want this to work and I’m prepared to put in as much effort as you to make this work.” I smiled at him, wanting to convey certainty when in fact all I felt was doubt, but he had suffered enough for now.
Loves Lost and Found Page 19