Yours Unfaithfully (6 page)

Melanie stood in front of the cooker with one hand on the grill handle, the other hand stirring onions in the pan. Spitting noises from under the grill told her the fillet was done. She put it on the plates and carried it into the dining room where Tim was sitting, beaming with anticipation for what was to follow.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he joked. “You’re the best cook in Elmthorpe!”

She forced a weak smile in response to his stupid grin. She was happy to let him believe that her cooking was what was bothering her. Tim had never understood her, not even at the simplest level. When she was pregnant, when she had morning sickness he would ask, ‘What’s wrong?’ Not once, but morning after morning. Tim didn’t understand women, so it was no surprise that after eighteen years of marriage he still couldn’t read her moods. Perhaps that’s just as well she thought ...as her mind went over last night for the tenth time in as many minutes. Ratty understood her perfectly. He’d looked straight through her smile and got inside her head. He’d made her feel good about herself; in his arms everything had seemed so natural, so sensible, so achievable. He valued her opinion enough to want her to judge if his speech was good enough. He cared what she thought about his work. Did Tim care what she thought about anything? Although he’d always been proud of her success, Tim had never appreciated her skill, attained during her career at the bank. For him her success was something to boast about to his friends, as if it was more his than hers, but despite this he wouldn’t acknowledge that it was real work. She sank into a dream as she compared Tim with Ratty. One of them needed charm to win over a jury while the other used his hands to fix broken trucks. Tim was physically strong, his work was dirty, greasy and at the end of the day he wiped his hands in his oily rag like it was a victory salute, a mark of honour to another job completed. Tim believed that his work was important. Mel didn’t.

“He fixes bloody engines.” she screamed.

“Who does, who fixes engines? What the hell are you going on about?” Tim sat up, startled at her sudden outburst.

“Sorry... sorry I was dreaming out loud. You know how sometimes a thought comes into your mind when you’re least expecting it, and you say the words out loud?”

“No, not really. D’you mean like talking in your sleep?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s what I mean.” Mel stuttered.

“So who fixes engines?” Tim repeated. This meal wasn’t going a bit the way he’d expected.

She could hardly say, ‘You do’ ... “Oh, one of Nina’s friends who was at last night’s party.”

“Party? I didn’t realise it was a party. We usually go together if it’s a party. You should’ve said. I’d much rather have come with you than spend the night playing pool with Ben. I know you probably thought I’d be bored with a bunch of Nina’s hooray-henry friends but I’d have put up with it rather than have you sit there bored stiff while they cracked on about law and stuff all night, just to help Nina out. I bet you were bored out of your mind? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes ...yes that’s pretty much what is was like, but I don’t mind if it helped Nina get her promotion.”

“What promotion, Ben hasn’t said anything about her getting a new job.”

Melanie panicked as she realised she had just broken her first promise to Ratty.

“Well I don’t expect Ben knows yet, I met Nina’s new boss and he let slip that she was in line to work with him on this big new contract they’ve got, Stellar something or other.”

“What d’you mean, let it slip? Doesn’t Nina know yet?”

“I don’t know, I suppose she does, although no, she’d have said wouldn’t she... Oh I don’t know. What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t matter to me Mel, only I think it’s a bit odd, this guy telling you before he tells Nina?”

“Well, that’s drink for you Tim.”

“So what, he was drunk, this guy, was he?”

“No, nobody was drunk (Only me, she thought). I just meant that after a few drinks people let out all their secrets. It’s what drink does. You should know that ... after all you go down the Globe and after a few drinks you discuss our problems with Ben. What’s that if it’s not the drink talking?”

“Mel, the difference is, Ben is my mate, this guy doesn’t even know you. He’s probably forgotten your name already and yet he was telling you stuff which was confidential, and he’s a solicitor .... right? Just shows what I’ve said before, they’re no better than us. All their fancy fees and bloody wigs but underneath they can’t even drink a few beers without letting their tongues run away. They’d be no damn use in a real job.”

“What, you mean like yours, fixing lorries?”

“Well, yes, if you like, what I do is hard work, it’s a real job.”

“Tim, what the hell has hard work got to do with this guy telling me things after we’d had a few drinks?”

“I hate the way you say ‘Fixing Lorries’. You make it sound like it’s beneath you, and all these people at the party. Mine’s a trade Mel, remember that. I’ve got a trade! I did three years’ apprenticeship before I became a qualified mechanic.”

“I suppose he did a few years at University before he became a lawyer.”

“So what are you saying Mel ... he’s better than me?”

“Tim I’m not saying anything. I don’t care all right! How’s your steak?”

“Yea it’s OK. Mel what did you mean when you said ‘This guy was telling you things?’ What other things did he tell you?”

“I don’t know... nothing... oh I can’t remember. Tim it’s not important is it? I talked to lots of people; they were all talking about their work. They obviously enjoy what they do, just like I used to at the bank before I hit this crisis.”

“What crisis? There’s nothing wrong with you Mel. You just think you can’t do something, but if you carry on like this, before long you’ll find you really can’t do it. You need to pull yourself together. Bloody hell, it shouldn’t be too difficult... what you do. I mean, you’ve been doing it for enough years, you should be able to add up pages of figures with your eyes shut.”

“Is that what you think I do? You think I spend all day adding up figures?”

“Well it is isn’t it? I don’t know what you call it, but it’s still adding up.”

“Tim, I talk to clients, I write reports, I manage my departmental budget, I have sixteen staff who report to me, I’m not just a bloody number cruncher. Got it?”

“Christ, I thought you said tonight was going to be different. Doesn’t seem like it. I don’t know the bloody difference between numbers and a budget. I’m a bloody mechanic in case you forgot. So if you’ve got sixteen people working for you is Rodders one of them? Rodders and his famous performing bow tie?”

“Rodney works in Internal Audit, nothing to do with my work at all. I work with customers and their banking details. He sees that the people who work in the bank aren’t fiddling the books, milking the bank, whatever you want to call it.”

“So who checks Rodders to see that he doesn’t get his bow tie caught in the till? It’s like I said before Mel, while you think you’re running the bank they’re actually busy checking on you. They don’t even trust you after ten years of working there. How long’s Rodders worked there? Five bloody minutes I bet, but he’s one of the boys, probably Eton I shouldn’t wonder with that bow tie. It says a lot for your devotion to the bank all these years, don’t you think?”

“No I don’t think any such thing. Of course the bank has to have internal security. You’ve just got no respect for my position at the bank. To you it’s just a joke. Well look at me Tim, Do you see me laughing?”

“Look Mel, lets start again shall we, this seems to have gone all wrong. It’s my fault, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to quiz you about last night. I know Nina’s your friend and I’m sure you just put up with that bloke for her sake but it’s tonight now and he’s pissed off back to wherever he came from. You’ve got me, and... you’ve got me all to yourself... all night. No Nina, No Ben, No kids, just you, me and a big double bed upstairs so shall we skip coffee and go straight for desserts?”

“Oh can we let our meal go down first Tim. I’ve got some of those mint chocolates that they serve in restaurants with the coffee. You’ve got to let me make the coffee.”

“OK, after all the longer we wait the more we’ll want it, won’t we!”

Melanie was fighting back the nauseous feeling that threatened to choke her. You might want it more, she thought but there’s no way I do. I don’t even know if I can go through with this tonight. Tonight, what about any night? What is happening to me? First I have a crisis, and I want Tim to hold me, to help me get through it. Now I don’t want him near me. What’s changed? Melanie knew what had changed. Since last night her brain had returned over and over to the time she’d spent with Ratty. When she woke up, while she was cleaning her teeth, twenty times during the day, even while Tim had been rattling on about his crappy job as a mechanic. What was Ratty doing now she wondered? Had he thought about her since last night? Had he gone home and told his wife that he’d asked her to judge his speech next Wednesday? Somehow Melanie doubted that. What Ratty had found in Melanie was so special because he had planted it there. Until last night Melanie was convinced that she was hopeless. Ratty had revived her self confidence more in two hours than Tim had done in two weeks. He’d asked her to be at his big speech next Wednesday. He’d asked her to join him for lunch at the Hilton. When was the last time Tim had taken her for a meal anywhere? Tim would take her to the Globe for pasty and chips then invite Ben and his mates to join them. He’d never take her somewhere like the Hilton.

Melanie took the coffee in to Tim and put two mint chocolates on his saucer. She’d made it with boiling water. That way it would take longer to drink.

“Christ Mel”, Tim said, spitting coffee down his best trousers, “This coffee’s bloody boiling.”

“Sorry Tim, I knew you wouldn’t like it if it was cold.” ‘Well there’s no chance of it being cold this side of the ten o’clock news.’

‘Well, I’ll be too tired by then Tim, so maybe we should put this off until another night.’

Tim burst out laughing. “Mel you always could make me laugh, I remember when we first went out together, that’s what I loved about you, you were funny – not like other girls, in a rude way – you were just dead funny. You crack me up Mel.”

Mel saw that Tim wasn’t joking. She would have loved to say ‘Tim I’m serious, I don’t want to make love to you tonight.’ She also knew if she said that, Tim would go crazy, things would be right back to where they were two weeks ago. She knew what was expected of her. Tim was her husband, after all. He would depend on her to do her duty, to honour him with her body. She felt sick at the thought.

Tim was first to sit up in bed, “Sorry Mel.”

“What do you mean?” she whispered.

“Oh come on Mel, I’m not stupid, I could tell you didn’t enjoy it. I just didn’t do it how you wanted. Trouble is Mel, if I don’t know what you want how am I meant to do it?”

“You were fine Tim. It’s me; I’m just not myself lately. I’ve told you, things are going on in my head, I think I’m losing it at work, I feel like I can’t cope here at home. I’m going through one of those troughs they’re always talking about in books and things. Tim, you might have to be very understanding for a while.”

“Of course Mel, no problem. You know I’ve always understood. What’s the problem?”

“Well I just told you... I just told you what the problem is... you never listen to anything I say!”

“Well, can you explain in a bit more detail, I mean it’s difficult to understand when you don’t tell me what’s going on inside your head?”

“Tim,
I don’t even know what’s going on inside my head right now
. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make love for a while... that’s what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean, for a while? D’you mean like a week, a month... what’s a while? Do we get to discuss this or is this like, your decision? I mean, ‘The bank’s decision is final Mr. Fisher. You can’t have an overdraft and you can’t make love to your wife either’. ‘Mel, you can’t just announce something like that, I mean.... we need to talk about it. I’m a reasonable man, you know that. I’ve always been reasonable, but bloody hell, it’s like saying you don’t really want to be with me. Is that what you’re saying Mel? Is that it? Nothing makes any sense to me anymore. You wonder why I talk to Ben about our problems? Christ I didn’t realise just how big a problem we have. OK, we had a row, I was a prat, I know that now and I’m sorry. But please can we forget all that and get back to how we were two weeks ago? After all, nothing’s changed, has it?”

Mel had her head under her pillow. Quite a lot has changed Tim, she thought. Yesterday I realised that there is someone out there who cares about what I think. Someone who thinks my opinion is worth having. Someone who sees me as more than just a cook and a good roll in bed. Someone who makes me feel valuable, needed, someone who sees me as a woman ... and he arouses in me awareness, he makes me aware that I’m a woman.

“Tim, can we talk about this tomorrow. I feel sick at this moment.”

“What you really mean is, you need to check with Nina before you can talk about our marriage problems, that’s the truth of the matter. Well talk to bloody Nina, but don’t act surprised because I take advice from Ben. Thank God he understands these things.”

“No Tim, I won’t be surprised.”

Sunday morning at number four Willow Brook started as usual with the three children stampeding around the house in preparation for their recreational activities. Henry was a keen canoeist but this morning he was due to play football behind the village hall with his mates, one of whom was Alex, Nina’s oldest boy from next door. James was the musical member of the family; he played the recorder as well as guitar and piano. Sundays was the only day when he and Guss (Nina’s second child) and one of their friends could practice together in what they claimed was their band. Their problem was finding somewhere to make that much noise without attracting complaints, so often they spent more time planning where they could practice than actually doing it.