Roar

by Cecelia Ahern

  She concentrates on the list.

  • Too big

  • Too small

  • Fit

  • Not as pictured/described

  • Fabric

  • Colour

  • Quality

  • Price

  • Delivery issue

  • Not for me

  • Defective/faulty

  Paddy wasn’t defective, he wasn’t faulty, there was nothing wrong with the fabric of his being, she’s just grown tired of him, grown out of love. And he’s grown out of love with her, she’s certain of it, but Paddy would never leave. He’s the type to stay. Put up with things that bother him. Much as they irritated one another, poked and prodded at each other mentally, she couldn’t deny Paddy was a good man, a great father, a caring grandfather.

  She ticks Not for me and signs her signature at the bottom.

  ‘Great,’ Susan takes the paperwork from her and gets busy with her folder and stamps, shuffling paper around. She talks as though she’s said the words a thousand times but has never listened to their meaning. ‘Now you’re aware that you cannot get a full refund at this time, so I will—’

  ‘No, no, I was told I could. I bought him in 1978 and the terms of the agreement still hold true today. I checked all this out with a customer service agent called Grace.’ She roots in her bag for her datebook with all the information.

  Susan smiles, but there’s impatience beneath it.

  Outside the office, people arrive and the woman listens for Paddy but it’s more customers buying or returning, she’s not sure which. Either way, Susan is keen to press on.

  ‘Indeed, but on closer study of your receipt, I discovered that you bought Paddy on sale. He was on special. Sale items are not eligible for total refunds.’ She keeps talking and the woman is transported back to the moment she saw Paddy. It wasn’t that she didn’t have enough money, but he was a special offer and that seemed … well, special. Standing beside a giant gold star with SPECIAL emblazoned across the side had been a sign for her. Not just a literal one.

  ‘We can offer you an exchange, for a husband or wife of the same value, or a credit note, which will be to the value of the original purchase.’

  The woman’s mouth falls open as she stares at her in shock. Susan shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

  ‘But I don’t want an exchange. I didn’t come here for another husband.’

  ‘So a credit note will do,’ she says. She stamps the form loudly, ending the conversation. She opens the drawer and retrieves a small envelope. She pushes her chair back and stands, extends her hand. ‘It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  The woman slowly stands.

  ‘That’s it,’ Susan laughs. ‘You’re a free woman. The parking garage is out the green door and to the left, the market is on the right if you’d like to browse.’

  ‘Where’s Paddy?’

  ‘He’s gone,’ she says, surprised.

  ‘Gone? But—’ Her heart pounds wildly, a sensation of panic engulfing her. ‘I didn’t get to say goodbye.’

  Susan moves around the desk, gliding to the door with her hand at the woman’s back, guiding her out the door, across a corridor to the green door. ‘It’s easier this way, believe me.’

  She thinks of his sad smile. He was saying goodbye, he must have known. ‘Where is he?’ the woman stops at the green door.

  ‘We’ll take good care of him now, don’t you worry. He’ll be cleaned up, pampered, rested before he goes back on the market.’ She opens the green door.

  ‘Back on the market?’ she says, aghast, feeling Susan’s hand on the small of her back again, ushering her outside. ‘But Paddy won’t be able to handle it. He doesn’t like starting new things with new people. He’s sixty-two years old.’

  ‘We wouldn’t put him back on the market without his permission, he’s a human being – not a piece of meat,’ she chuckles. ‘Paddy ticked the box for future sale. He’ll be in great demand, too. There’s plenty of interest for newly returned husbands. You mark my words, there are plenty of people who want an older, experienced man. It’s the ones who’ve been on the shelf all those years that are the difficult ones to move. Plenty of women are out there who lost their spouses and want somebody who’s been in a long committed relationship; Paddy has a great track record. There are plenty of people looking for adventure. Plenty of people who are lonely.’

  If the woman hears the word plenty again, she’ll scream.

  Susan smiles warmly. ‘Good luck. You know where we are if you choose to use your credit note.’

  She closes the green door, which is steel and unpainted on the outside. The woman jumps as it clangs shut and echoes around the empty parking garage. Her car sits alone in the ‘Returns’ lot, while around the corner in the buying section the garage is almost full. She walks slowly towards her car, hearing her footsteps on the concrete, every step and moment and sound amplified, her feeling of aloneness overwhelming.

  She drives home, hot fat tears falling down her face. An aching hollow yawns in her chest, followed by a wave of fear and loss. But by the time she reaches her home the tears have dried. The sadness has moved towards relief and the dread has become excitement. A new beginning.

  3

  The house is quiet. The children are long gone, married with children, working, stressing. Her own life has slowed down; watching them sweating the small stuff was a reminder to her of how enormous everything used to feel at that time of her own life. It helped her make her decision. It’s time for her to live now, time for her to relax, time to truly be happy, time to feel like she doesn’t owe anybody anything, time to not feel guilty about living for herself. The time for blaming other people for her own frustrations is over, she has taken her life by the horns and is taking responsibility. No more nagging at Paddy for his shortcomings – she has to make the changes herself.

  She cleans the house from top to bottom until there isn’t a speck of dust to be found. She marvels at the space in her wardrobe now that Paddy’s clothes are gone. The guest bedroom could be a bedroom for guests again – they’d stopped sharing a bed five years earlier on account of his snoring, which had worsened with his weight, which he wouldn’t do anything about.

  She drinks an entire bottle of white wine and watches a trashy reality show without his sighs and tuts and grumbles of disapproval. As the days go by she dines on undercooked pasta, overcooked meat, and artichokes – just because she can. And she sheds a few pounds by eating when she’s hungry rather than the times he’d demand his food. The recycling is in order, everything’s where it needs to be, everything in her home has its place and nobody moves anything. She exists on her own clock, no longer has to walk on eggshells because he’s in one of his moods. She can have visitors whenever she feels like it, and she’s stopped going out to Friday-night drinks with his friends and their irritating wives. Her world runs according to how she likes it. She’s no longer irritated.

  Some nights she wakes up crying.

  Some days she finds herself sitting in his bedroom, inhaling the last of his scent.

  She sniffs his aftershave when out at department stores. A few of his favourite foods creep into her shopping cart. When her son and daughter come by to tell her that their father has been bought and is now off the market, she cries.

  4

  One day she drives to the hardware store, returning the wrong light bulbs she’d bought for her bedside lamp, and nearly crashes the car. Paddy is cutting the grass in her neighbour’s garden. She is about to pull over when the front door opens and Barbara, forty-six years old, appears outside with a grin on her face, carrying a cup of coffee.

  He smiles, the biggest smile she’s ever seen on his face, takes it from her, and they kiss. A long, lingering kiss.

  The woman turns the car around and drives home and doesn’t leave her house for three days.

  5

  ‘I understand you’re upset. It’s diff
icult to move on but it has been over one month and we are following all of the correct protocol. Paddy was bought on his first day back on the market.’

  ‘By Barbara Bollinger,’ she spits.

  ‘I can’t reveal the name of the purchaser.’

  ‘I know who she is, I saw them together. They live five doors away from me. I have to see them every day.’

  ‘I’m confused. Are you upset about the proximity or the relationship?’

  ‘Both!’ she shouts, tears springing in her eyes.

  ‘Perhaps it’s time for you to use your credit note,’ Susan’s eyes sparkle mischievously.

  Susan pushes the door open to the supermarket and the woman sees that it’s more like a warehouse since the days she had shopped for her husband. Men of different colours, shapes and sizes, sit or stand on floor-to-ceiling shelves. Men and women browse the aisles as if doing their weekly shopping. When they see somebody they like, they read the information available on the sign, as if checking the ingredients, and then a cherry-picker rises to retrieve the man. The men pass the time by speaking cheerily to one another, texting on iPads and laptops, or reading. Some men head off on breaks or return from breaks as they follow a schedule.

  Susan leads the woman to a row of computers. ‘We’ve become more advanced since your first visit forty years ago. Here is where you input your needs, and it should find matches based on your answers. It’s easier to search the database on the computer than search the shelves. We try to make every man accessible, but it’s not always easy to see the top shelf. The men complain all the time and we’re working on it, but it’s my impression that certain women go straight to the top shelf – as if the more precious ones are up there for protection, like the shelves at a newsstand, if you know what I mean.’ She winks. ‘If it’s just looks that people are interested in at first, they usually browse, pick a few favourites and then look up their details – but I know that’s not for you. You’ll want to see the details first.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘It was Paddy’s habits that bothered you. I’m sure you’re looking for character and personality traits that your previous husband didn’t have. Take a scroll through the questionnaire. Any problems, Candice will assist you.’

  It is detailed but entertaining. The program runs through scenarios, asking her to choose the preferred actions her prospective husband would take in a variety of situations. Susan is right, she is going for the exact opposite of how Paddy behaved.

  When he’d been calm she’d wanted him to be more passionate.

  When he’d lost his temper she’d wanted him to be calm.

  When he’d talked too much about one subject, she’d wished he could interest her in other ways. She picked him apart, until a red alarm above the computer sounded, as if she’d won money at a slot machine. She’d found a match.

  6

  His name is Andrew, he is ten years younger than her. He puts his clothes away where they belong, he always lines up his shoes neatly. He cooks. He eats everything, isn’t fussy about his food. He welcomes visitors to the house, he watches her soaps without irritating commentary, he joins a watercolour class with her. He is wonderfully protective of her, yet at the same time takes pride when other men pay attention to her. He is a thoughtful lover.

  On paper, or in a hard drive, he is perfect for her.

  And yet. And yet she is still irritated, frustrated, realizing that, no matter who she is with, she seems to be the same person. She can’t keep changing everybody around her and expecting a difference; she is the one who is making life difficult.

  One morning she is still in bed, sleeping late, which is unusual for her. The curtains are drawn. She is lying in darkness for the fourth morning in a row after being in a state ever since her children and grandchildren had spent the day in Paddy’s new home, with Paddy’s new wife. She’d seen the cars outside, had heard her grandchildren playing in Barbara Bollinger’s garden, heard the sound of laughter and conversation drift from the open windows and down to her home. Whether real or imagined, the sounds tormented her. Andrew knocks on the bedroom door and she sits up, fixes herself. He carries a breakfast tray of huevos rancheros, something Paddy would never eat in a million years.

  ‘Thank you, Andrew, you’re so kind,’ she says. Though her gratitude is genuine, she hears the strain in her voice. She summons all of her strength to give him more, more of what he deserves.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, this handsome beautiful thing, and says her name. His tone catches her attention, she recognizes it as a warning. She places the napkin down, feeling a tremble growing within her, then picks it up again and grips it tight, twisting it around her finger, watching her skin go from white to purple as her flesh is squeezed and the bloodflow is constricted.

  ‘This is our fourteenth morning together,’ he begins.

  She nods.

  ‘You understand what happens on the fifteenth day?’

  Her eyes widen, suddenly fearful he will ask something of her that she can’t deliver. She’s enjoyed being more experimental than she had been with Paddy, but perhaps not too much more.

  He laughs lightly, brushing her cheekbone with his knuckles. ‘Don’t look so worried. It is the final day that you can return me for a full refund.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So I have packed my bags. I’m ready to return whenever you are. First eat a good breakfast,’ he smiles sadly.

  ‘Andrew, I think there’s some kind of mistake. I don’t want to return you.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ He studies her.

  ‘Haven’t you … enjoyed your stay?’

  He smiles. ‘Yes, of course, I think that’s obvious.’

  She blushes.

  Taking her hands in his, he continues: ‘But we are not the perfect fit and I think that you know that. And I know from your previous relationship that you stay. You stay because you think it’s right, because you think it’s easier, but it’s not. Also, if I stay, then I am devalued.’

  Though it pains her to hear him say it, she knows he is right.

  ‘I don’t want to be devalued. I am a good man. I want to be appreciated for what I am truly worth.’

  She nods, understanding. Staying with Paddy for so long the way they were had devalued them both. She lifts Andrew’s hand and kisses his knuckles. And with that Andrew packs his belongings into the trunk of the car and for the second time she prepares to return her husband.

  7

  Across the road, Paddy looks up, garden shears in hand, and watches. The woman meets his eyes for the first time in months and her heart pounds, her stomach twists. She feels alive with desire. She aches because of the longing and the sadness of what she let go, of what she willingly gave away. Being with him feels like home, but seeing him fills her with homesickness.

  Andrew catches her staring.

  Barbara steps outside with a mug of coffee, her long blonde hair swept back off her face, her summer dress unbuttoned up her thigh. The woman feels sick.

  ‘It’s okay to change your mind, you know,’ Andrew says. ‘It doesn’t mean you were wrong, I know how you hate to be wrong,’ he smiles.

  She gets into the car and starts up the engine.

  When she returns from the market she parks the car and enters the empty house that no longer feels like a home. She takes in the hallway, the tidy hallway. She listens to the silence. She knows that these are small victories in a war she lost. She acknowledges what has been eating at her for some time now; she would gladly trade all this in to have Paddy back again.

  She opens the front door and runs across the road. She knocks on Barbara’s door.

  Barbara opens the door, views her with surprise but is polite.

  ‘I’m very sorry to disturb you,’ she begins, ‘but I want Paddy back. I need him back,’ she adds breathlessly.

  ‘Excuse me, Paddy is my husband, you can’t just take him!’ Barbara says, bewildered.

  ‘With all due respect, Barbara, he’
s not mine. And he’s not yours either. He’s Paddy. I’m very sorry, Barbara, I realize this is a great encumbrance on you and your life, and I was trying very hard not to ruin anybody else’s life, but I haven’t changed my mind; I’ve made a new decision,’ she says, matter-of-factly. ‘I want to be with Paddy. I miss you, Paddy,’ she raises her voice down the corridor. ‘I love you.’

  Paddy steps into the hall and gives her a soft familiar smile that grows into a grin.

  ‘There she is,’ he says, smiling. ‘My knight in shining armour.’

  ‘I didn’t know you needed rescuing,’ Barbara says, rightly offended.

  ‘We needed rescuing,’ Paddy says simply. ‘She was the only one who had the gumption to do something about it. I’m sorry, Barbara.’

  ‘I can’t afford you, Paddy,’ the woman says. ‘I have a credit note, but it’s not enough for you – I checked your price. I can go to the credit union for the rest of it.’ She looks at Barbara. ‘I’ll give you every cent I have, Barbara, and everything I ever earn again. Will you come home? Paddy, please.’

  Barbara steps aside, and looks at him, unable to argue with this show of love.

  ‘That’s all I want,’ he says.

  8

  Back in their home, Paddy hangs his coat on the back of the chair and leaves his suitcase in the hallway. He pulls her close for a kiss. He is so strong and his movement is so sudden he topples her slightly. They misjudge the timing of their kiss and their proximity, causing their noses to squish and their teeth to crash against each other. He moves in faster than she anticipates, she feels his shoe tread on her toes, her neck aches as she stretches up to meet him.

  It’s clumsy and imperfect. It’s real, it’s honest, and it’s all she wants.

  She was found walking down the centre of a three-lane motorway, in rush-hour traffic at eight a.m. on a Monday morning. It would have been more dangerous had a collision not occurred at the exit, meaning traffic was backed up. She walked past the cars, looking straight ahead with a determined – though others said lost – look on her face.