Fandango in the Apse! (14 page)

He made the offer of a coffee by nodding towards the kettle.  I nodded
back.  He turned to the sink to fill it before answering me.

‘Yeah, I thought we could order in a Chinese, what do you think?’

 Anything that meant I didn’t have to cook was fine by me.

‘Good idea,’ I said.  Digging the takeaway menu out of a drawer, I
browsed through it while Eddie busied himself with the coffee on the other side
of the kitchen.

‘I’m having beef in black bean sauce with egg fried rice,’ I announced as
he handed me my mug.  ‘Oh, and some noodles. What do you fancy?’

‘I’m not sure. Pass it here, let me have look.’

 As we pored over the menu, I was thinking how nice it was to have time
together without the constant chattering of the boys. We didn’t do it often
enough.  His choice made, Eddie went to the phone to order.

‘It’ll be twenty minutes, I’ll go and get out of this suit,’ he said, a
moment later.

‘D’you want red or white?’ I called after him. 

‘White’s fine,’ drifted back from the stairs.

We were halfway through the meal before I realised Eddie wasn’t looking
too good.  Just goes to show how much real attention I show him.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked.  ‘You’re looking quite ill.’

‘No, I’m OK… it’s just…’

‘Just what?’

‘I need to talk to you, Katie.’ 

Oh God!  He was going to tell me he had something dreadfully wrong with
him, that’s why he was home early – nine-tenths of the time he was a bastard,
but I still didn’t want him to be seriously ill.  I put my hand over his and
smiled encouragingly.

‘I’m moving to London.’  I snatched my hand back.

‘London?’

He nodded.

            ‘
You’re
moving to London…in the singular, as in alone,
without us?’ 

His voice hardened. ‘Yes, I’ve been offered a job, well actually, I was
offered it last year, but with things the way they were with you…’ he shrugged
his shoulders.  ‘Douglas Campion offered it again last week and I’ve accepted.’

            ‘Just like that, without discussing it with me?’

            ‘We’re discussing it now.’

            ‘No, we’re not! You’re telling me what you’ve already done.
And who the hell is Douglas Campion?’  I was trying to keep my cool, but I
could feel my temper heating up by degrees.  What the hell was going on?  Eddie
couldn’t keep the note of satisfaction out of his tone.

‘He’s the CEO of Dryden International.  I’ll be working in the Docklands
– it’s a huge opportunity.’

‘But you’re going alone?’

‘Katie, you know as well as me our marriage has been dead for a long
time, I think this is the perfect time for the break.’

‘Oh fucking do you?  Well I’m glad you sorted that out then.  For a
moment there I thought we had two kids and a home to think about… but excuse
me, obviously your wishes take precedence…silly me, for not grasping that.’ 

‘Katie…’

‘No! Don’t Katie me.  You come out with a statement that you’re taking a
job I knew nothing about, and
you’re leaving me and the boys to boot, and
I’m just supposed to say that’s fine… is that it, Eddie, have I got it
straight?’  He had the good grace to wince.  ‘Well I’m sorry but it’s just not
that easy, you have responsibilities.’

            ‘Oh yeah, and what about my responsibility to myself… eh?
What about that?’ he yelled.

            ‘Oh don’t make me laugh… all you do is think about yourself. 
You assume you can swan off alone…’

Eddie stood and banged his fists on the table overturning his wineglass. ‘I’m
not going alone, you stupid bitch!’

            His wide-eyed look of horror told me that was something he
definitely hadn’t intended to mention.

‘Oh, really. Who is she this time, Eddie?  Gosh!  She must be special;
you’ve never felt the need to leave your family for any of the others.’ 

I was calmly livid at this point, if that’s possible; sarcasm was the
only way to stop myself ripping his throat out. 

            ‘You might as well know, it’s not a she, it’s a he,’ said
Eddie slumping back in his chair. 

The silence stretched around the kitchen as I tried to take in what he
was saying.  He? As in a man? Did that mean…?  Oh – My – God!  No, not
possible, Eddie was the biggest womaniser I knew.  Realising I was gaping at
him, I shut my mouth and hoped I’d heard wrong.  Not a chance.

            ‘His name is Ethan; we’ve been together for two years, we’re
lovers,’ he said quietly. 

The first thing to hit him was my plate of beef in black bean sauce.  It
smashed squarely in his face and produced a satisfying cut on the bridge of his
nose.  Most of what was on the table followed until Eddie grabbed me to wrestle
the wine bottle out of my hand. 

A rather unsavoury tussle followed, which I don’t think I need to go
into.  Suffice to say, Eddie left the house with a fat lip to match his nose
and most of the Chinese meal dripping off his clothes.  I was nursing bruised
arms and what I thought at the time was a broken hand.  Women can never throw
punches properly, can they? 

As I sat in the kitchen amongst the debris of broken plates and Chinese
food with my hand in a bowl of iced water, I tried to make sense of what had
happened.  I swear to God you couldn’t make it up.  Eddie my womanising
husband, of nearly fourteen years, was gay? 

How had I missed that?  Was I blind?  Had he always been gay or was it
just with this Ethan chap?  Ethan and Eddie, Eddie and Ethan, I said it aloud,
it had a ring to it.  Had there been others?  Jesus, had he come from them
straight to our bed?  That thought made me feel sick.  I wondered about the
woman, and there had been plenty… why?  Had he been trying to convince himself
– deny his homosexuality?  And he was leaving, taking off to London to set up
home with this Ethan, whoever the hell
he
was. 

Jealousy ripped through me, well maybe not jealousy, you have to love
someone to be jealous and I never loved Eddie, but I was fond of him and could
have stayed married to him.  It was anger – anger that this man was about to
take my place, going to be living with my husband, wrecking my life, and there
wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.  I might have had a fighting chance
if it had been another woman, but unfortunately, if your husband prefers balls
to boobs there isn’t a lot of scope to fight your corner.  

Leaving the mess, I went upstairs emotionally and physically drained, I
didn’t want to think any more.  In the small hours of the morning, I lay on my
side in the semi-darkness looking at Eddie’s side of the bed.  I’d given up
trying to sleep.  Every time I drifted off, unwanted thoughts crashed around my
brain causing sparks, which pinged me back to full consciousness.  A fear of
the unknown throbbed in the pit of my stomach.  My marriage was over… fact. 
Could I cope?  Probably not.

It was Sunday afternoon before Eddie showed his face again.  I’d spent
all day Saturday alternating between hurt, anger and acceptance.  Eventually
late on Saturday evening, following a bottle of wine, a large brandy and a
whole box of Milk Tray, I’d phoned Alison.  Other than suggesting I came up for
a visit there was little she could do.  She was of the same opinion as me; if
Eddie was gay, the marriage was dead. 

‘I can’t believe it, Eddie is gay?’

‘I know… I feel sick at the thought.  I was thinking maybe all those
women I thought he was with, were men.’

‘It doesn’t bear thinking about… I’m so sorry, honey,’ said Alison.

‘Anyway, I’m definitely coming up to see you tomorrow – I really need to
get out of this house.’

‘OK, love, drive carefully, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

I was lugging my suitcase down the stairs when Eddie arrived.  We stood
looking at each other like strangers, me on the stairs, him in the doorway.  He
had two small butterfly bandages over the cut on his nose and what looked like
the start of a black eye. The whole thing had a surreal quality about it.

            ‘Is that my stuff?’ he asked eventually.

            ‘No, it’s mine,’ I replied, shaking myself back to life and
stomping down the last few stairs.

            ‘You’re leaving?’

            I dumped my bag by the door.

            ‘I’m going to Alison’s for a few days,’ I answered quietly. 
I wasn’t going to fight with him, there was no point.  ‘Do you want a cup of
tea?  I was going to have one before I set off.’

            It was difficult to read his expression.  Deflated might be a
good choice.  He had obviously come expecting another fight and now seemed at a
loss.

            ‘Um…yes, that would be cool.’

            Cool?  Cool?  Eddie never called anything “cool”.  Jesus, he
sounded like a teenager.  I wondered, but refrained from asking in order to
keep things civil, just how old this Ethan was?  When Eddie followed me into
the kitchen, I could see a definite change in him.  Already, he didn’t feel
like the Eddie I knew and it wasn’t just down to the new clothes he was
wearing, although they were definitely more trendy than his usual attire. 
Ethan’s influence, I guessed.

            ‘How are you?’ I asked, handing him his tea.

            ‘I should be asking you that.’

            ‘Me?  Oh, I’m marvellous,’ I said, with more animosity than
intended. 

            ‘I’m sorry, Katie.’

            ‘For what?’  I had to ask.  ‘For not telling me you’re gay,
or for blurting it all out, because you didn’t intend telling me, did you,
Eddie?  Come on; tell me what you’re sorry about?’

            ‘I’m sorry I hurt you.  I honestly didn’t want that,’ he
replied calmly. ‘I’m not sorry it’s all out in the open, though.  I couldn’t
live a lie any longer, Katie, it wasn’t fair to you, me or Ethan for that
matter.’

‘And what about the children, have you thought about them?’

‘Of course I have,
they’re what’s kept me here so long…’ I winced at that.  ‘I’ve tried,

Katie, but I can’t fight this, I need to be with
Ethan.’

For the first time I thought about how difficult his life must have
been.  He loved Ethan;  I could see it in his eyes when he mentioned him.  How
hard it must have been to put up with me and my problems, when all he wanted
was to be someplace else.

            ‘Well, thank you for seeing me through last year, Eddie, I’m
grateful,’ I felt obliged to say.

            ‘Don’t, Katie.  I can’t bear it if you’re nice to me.’

            As we stood barely three feet apart, I could see the chasm
widening between us.  I had lived most of my adult years with this man, yet I
had never really known him.

            ‘When did you… have you always been…?’ I couldn’t get it out.

            ‘The first time was years ago.  It scared the life out of me;
I think that’s why there were so many women.’

            ‘Then you met, Ethan?’

            ‘It felt so right, Katie.’  Eddie looked like he was pleading
with me to understand.

            ‘It was never right between us, was it?’

            I looked at the expression in Eddie’s eyes; it told me
everything I needed to know.

‘So what now?’ I asked.

            ‘I wanted to talk about that. We’ll have to sell the house,
is that OK with you?’

            It wasn’t, I loved the house, but I knew that even if Eddie
paid the mortgage, I’d struggle with the day-to-day bills.  It was a big house
and it cost a lot to run.  Anyway, perhaps it was best to have a fresh start. 
I nodded my assent.  The rest of the conversation followed the same lines.  We
agreed to a fifty-fifty split on everything and Eddie agreed to be with me to
tell the boys of the imminent changes in their lives.  We had ten days before
they were back to decide how much they needed to know; it wouldn’t be easy.

A six-hour drive tends to focus your mind, don’t you think?  With only
the odd break to make sure I was still on the right road for Nottinghamshire, I
thought exclusively of the previous few days.  I was trying to work out what
was affecting me most.  Certainly, my pride was hurt; a man was usurping me,
for God’s sake.  That brought all sorts of connotations to the surface.  It was
embarrassing to think about all the times I’d pranced around naked in front of
Eddie.  Did I disgust him?  Was he looking at my curves and wishing for the
hard straight lines of a male body?  God, it was horrifying to delve too
deeply. 

            I was also dealing with the uncomfortable thought beginning
to take hold, that I was actually more upset at having to leave my home, than
losing my husband.  That was bad.  I didn’t want to examine that too closely
either, I was afraid to acknowledge what it said about my character.   I’d been
living a lie for years and could honestly admit to myself, at least, that I
would have preferred to go on living the lie rather than having to deal with
the truth.  How sad was that?  How sad was I? 

Then guilt never far from the surface reared its ugly head.  Was I such a
shitty person that I had driven Eddie into the arms of a man?  I thought of the
nasty things I’d done, the other men, my selfishness.  My mother’s words echoed
in my ears. “We get what we deserve”.  How many times had I heard her say
that?  I wondered if it was really true.

            Alison’s home was a balm for my shattered soul.  I let the
daily life of the busy household wash over me.  The constant noise from the
three boys and Missy the only girl in the family precluded any activity other
than joining in.  There was no time to think, which was exactly what I needed. 
Alison’s kitchen was the hub of the household; big and untidy, it served as
playroom, cookery class, and any number of other uses. 

On my third day, I was sitting at the big kitchen table watching Alison
help Missy make fairy cakes, and wondering at her patience.  Missy had cake
mixture everywhere, except in the bun cases.