by Paul Kelly
I hadn’t been feeling very well one day when I was back on duty in the Theatre and an emergency appendectomy came in about 4.30 in the afternoon.
Although I wasn’t actually in the theatre, I was ‘on call’ and the staff nurse prepared the theatre for the operation, as I got ready to scrub-up. I knew at the start, I shouldn’t have done, but it would have meant calling another Theatre Sister and it was a straightforward operation, even if it had to be done, there and then. I didn’t foresee any trouble as far as the surgery was concerned and my head had ached far worse in the past, on many an occasion, than it had done then.
I had reached the stage of the external sutures after the operation had been successfully accomplished and the surgeon had walked away from the scene, snapping his gloves from his hands as he went for a well-deserved cup of tea, when I knew I wanted to be sick and I called the nurse. She understood by my hand signals what was wrong and brought me a kidney dish... I filled it... and then I collapsed.
***
I waited for some time in the duty room before I got dressed to go home and I didn’t feel particularly worried or harassed as I knew that he was in Amsterdam and would be, for the next week, so I simply took my time and strolled home in my own time and taking the fresh air as I went. I remembered him emphasizing the time that morning on the ‘phone, as he called a taxi, in his usual brusque manner. They were to collect him from the flat at 12.15 precisely and get him to the airport for the one o’clock flight to Amsterdam.
I sauntered up the stairs, feeling anything but energetic and thinking how lovely it would be just to get a warm drink and a hot water bottle and then get right into bed. I wasn’t on duty the following day, nor the day after, so I had plenty of time to molly-coddle myself and indulge in all the self-pity that was welling up in me as the days went by... but with still no word from the solicitor about the divorce.
It was only when I was treading the staircase that I realized I had taken the wrong shoes from my locker at the hospital and was wearing a pair of very old soft things that I used to use around the theatre when I wasn’t actually assisting at operations. You see, it was imperative to maintain silence at all times when the theatres were in use and these old things were ideal and comfortable too, but I blushed to think what any of my friends would have thought, if they had seen me walking through the streets in them.
I walked quietly towards the door of the flat, thankful that I hadn’t noticed my ‘shoe problem’ before that and even more thankful that I hadn’t met anyone who would have seen my feet and I thought I heard a noise as I approached, but there were so many noises going on in my poor aching head, that I didn’t pay much attention and fumbled in my bag for my key, eager to get my head down as quickly as I could. I opened the door and walked in … to get the shock of my life ...There, before me and without a stitch to her name was a large blonde woman, standing completely naked and holding a thick black whip in her hand. I thought I was in the wrong flat for a second, until Monty appeared from the bedroom, arm in arm with another ‘lady’; a full-blown redhead this time and in the altogether. His Lordship had nothing on but his socks. ...I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the situation, as he stared at me in stunned surprise.
“I thought you... I thought... aren’t you working at the hospital today?” was all he could say and the first woman, apparently not recognising me as Monty’s wife asked me what the hell I was doing and would I just get the hell out of it before she called the police ...Well... I ask you? ? He grabbed a towel and covered himself as he signalled for the women to get dressed and leave. They had all stopped giggling by this time and I didn’t know if I should have apologised for intruding and spoiling the fun, when I looked at his face. I knew it would have served no purpose to be frivolous about such a matter as this, but I did so want to laugh. I had never seen him so vulnerable before. He began to cough and clear his throat before he glared at me with wild eyes and I knew in that second, I would have to answer for my intrusion... as soon as we were on our own ...so I quickly turned away from him and left the flat. I ran downstairs and jumped into the first taxi I could find... and went to Aunt Martha’s.
***
I stayed at the Manse for a few days and I didn’t phone him, nor did he phone me, although I rather think he must have guessed where I had gone. Aunt Martha and I laughed a lot about the incident, but she did try to control herself when I first told her what had happened, with only her shoulders shaking gently until I mentioned the socks... or the absence of them... then she laughed until the tears rolled down her face.
“Now you have grounds for a divorce, Frannie,” she said after she had dried her ‘tears’ but I told her that I had already been in contact with a solicitor about the beatings, etc and I had been told he would be in touch.
“But that was a domestic matter... and between the two of you, my dear. This is another ‘can of worms’ altogether, don’t you see. Get on to that solicitor again, straight away. Don’t lose another second.”
She lifted the receiver and asked me the number, but Jeremy came into the lounge at that moment and she put the telephone down again. Jeremy appeared to me to be very tired and he smiled at me, with only the slightest recognition.
“Are you alright, Jeremy?”
Both Aunt Martha and I showed our joint concern as we spoke simultaneously. He waved his hands in the air and strolled across towards the French doors.
“Yes, I’m fine... thank you. It’s been a rotten day, hasn’t it?” he said and Aunt Martha and I looked at each other. It was she who spoke first to tell him my news.
“Jeremy... Frannie is getting a divorce from Montague.”
He looked at Aunt Martha, but he seemed to have a dazed look in his eye ...He smiled.
“Oh, I’m glad... and about time too, I should say. Good luck dahling and the best of British, I say.”
He slumped into a chair and I shook my head at Aunt Martha before she could say any more.
“Jeremy, I’m going down to Rowan Trees for the weekend. I’m not on duty for a few days... Would you like to come with me?”
He looked at me with half-closed eyes.
“Rowan Trees... Rowan Trees, oh yes, of course... the spiritual retreat for the damned. Yes, yes, I’d love to come. Shall we go now Frannie or would you like to stay for tea first?”
Aunt Martha stared at him and then at me. I think she was confused about the ‘spiritual retreat for the damned’ and had I not known my stepbrother, I would have concluded that he had been at the bottle... or worse...
***
Banbury was lovely, as it always was at that time of the year, but I was so concerned for Jeremy that I forgot all the beauty of the surroundings and even the garden at Rowan Trees, which had always given me so much delight. I had asked Aunt Martha not to tell him where I had gone if he should ring to enquire and certainly not to say who was with me. That would indeed have put the cat amongst the pigeons, for sure. She promised that she would do that and I felt relaxed, if still somewhat worried about my companion ...but by the end of the first day, Jeremy was beginning to sound like his normal self again.
Chapter Nineteen
I wondered what Monty would do now, that he had been caught... literally with his pants down, but I knew I should not get too complacent since he was such a devious and incomprehensible character; a veritable Jekyll and Hyde and in my heart, I suppose I had hoped that he would run off with one of his harem ladies... and disappear from my life... never to come back. I wanted to be left in peace, but was that too much to ask for now that I had been married to him for nearly five years and he had never changed. I vowed I would never marry again, if ever I was free... until I thought of Darius...but the opportunity of such a dream was so remote that I felt reasonably comfortable about my determination never ever to let anyone else rule my life. Darius had never been part of my life... but he held every
fibre of my heart. The thought of him, brought with it, great loneliness for me and although I knew it was impossible to do anything about it, I always held on to that dream, that one day... perhaps. It was stupid to think that way, I suppose, since Darius had never given me any inclination that he even liked me, apart from that smile on the night I left Basra. The dream was mine and not his, I felt sure... but it helped to keep my sanity in the troubled times with my spouse. It gave me peace to think of Darius and even the thought that he might well be in someone else’s arms was something of a relief, since I truly wanted him to be happy. I yearned for that and when, in my mind’s eye, I saw his face, can you blame me if I thought that I might be the one to bring him that happiness?
I often considered that he might even be married and have children by this time. It was a thought I had to accept and I knew that my chances of happiness with Darius Crane were less than a snowball’s chance in hell.
***
I resolved then, to turn my attentions to Jeremy, who although he had seemingly returned to his normal eloquent and amusing self, was still carrying a torch for Sebastian. There were times when I would observe him, alone with his thoughts , sitting awkwardly on the garden seat on the lawn, under the oak tree, and I would wonder how best to help him. He would look so sad and yet when I approached him, he would immediately start to smile and pretend that he had no problems of his own and would generously enquire about mine. He would welcome me and my problems regardless of his own raw feelings and I knew it. Jeremy was one of the most selfless people I have ever had the privilege to meet. There was a detached air of utter control in everything he did and yet, I knew his heart was bleeding.
“Have you seen Sebastian since you were last here at Rowan Trees, Jeremy?”
He would look into the distance and smile sadly without committing himself and I knew I would have to wait until he was ready to answer and talk to me on that subject. I had touched on a raw nerve and I guessed I might have to get him drunk again for him to tell me anything about it... Poor Jeremy…
***
It poured with rain all day Saturday... driving, wild rain that confined us to the house nearly all day. I thought it might be another excuse to continue the orgy and confessional session of our last visit to Banbury and had previously stocked up the larder with the iniquitous drink, for such an event, if it should occur. I knew the content of our love for each other would never cause a sexual turmoil but we were both lulled and enveloped in a cocoon that had entwined itself over and around each of us in turn. We could allow our hearts and our minds to wander at will into each other’s domain but our bodies remained steadfast in that cocoon. We would never kiss... we would never touch... Our friendship was purely wonderful... and wonderfully pure....
***
By the Sunday, although we had enjoyed much of our drinking bout of the Saturday evening, I could see that Jeremy was more than a little depressed as he swung his leg casually over the arm of the chair in the lounge, keeping time to the beat of the music of Victor Sylvester, as he sat by the fire. We had just finished breakfast and he hadn’t said a single word all through the meal, nor had he eaten much, so I was concerned. I thought of how I felt myself whenever I’m low or upset about anything; how I like to be left alone and I didn’t speak to him, or interrupt his thoughts which I knew to be important to him. I collected the dishes from the table as quietly as I could and he turned off the radio as I slid them into a sink-full of crackling bubbles... the only sound for miles around..
“I think I’ll take a little walk Frannie. I won’t be long. Are you O.K. there?” He said, nodding towards my rubber-gloved hands and to the sink and I gathered he wanted to be alone.
“Sure. I’m fine. I have a book to finish when I’ve done this, so you’ll find me in the garden when you get back... that is if the sun keeps shining.”
“Bye then,” he said slowly and with a sadness in his tone which I didn’t like.
“Bye Jeremy... Enjoy your walk.”
I watched him leave the house from the kitchen window and walk up the lane towards the old Parish Church on the hill and my heart ached for him in his loneliness. I knew something of what he was experiencing then and of his utter desolation, but I was very well aware that I was no substitute for the love he had lost. I finished the chores around the house and took my book to the garden, with a large glass of pure lemon juice, freshly squeezed from four lemons. It was bitter, but very refreshing and it was such a beautiful day, in such contrast to the storms and rains of the day before. The sun was too hot, if anything but I sheltered under the oak tree with a gigantic straw hat on my head; one that I had used mainly for gardening and would never be seen wandering through the village with it on... The crickets jabbered in their incessant conversations with each other in the fresh smelling grass and somewhere, a bee hovered around the crimson rhododendron, just near my ear. I swished it away unsuccessfully, where it was joined with several others from the hive, wherever that was. I didn’t mind the bees so much, but I hated wasps. A wasp had stung me when I was five and I shall never forget the pain it caused me. It seemed to go on endlessly, no matter how much I rubbed it to get relief. I rubbed some vinegar on it, but that didn’t seem to do much good either, as I remember.
I heard a frog plop into the pond and watched it disappear, leaving never ending circles in the water, just as Jeremy came sauntering through the arch of pink clematis. I looked up from my book, squinting in the sunlight and adjusting the brim of my famous hat and waved to him, hoping for a smile.
“Enjoy your walk?” I asked as he came towards me looking very weary and I hoped I hadn’t said something that would have annoyed him. He may have kicked a stone all the way from the village, for all I knew... he looked as though he could well have done. He squinted back at me in the sunlight and held his hand above his eyes, looking as though he hadn’t heard what I had said. Then he seemed to come to life again.
“Yes... why yes, it’s beautiful country around these parts, isn’t it?” he replied and I nodded.
“Want some lemon juice, it’s straight from the fruit... no artificial muck around here, you know.”
“No thank you Frannie,” he said and sat down beside me, having pulled an old wicker chair from the side of the potting shed. His face had lost none of its sadness, for all that he had enjoyed God’s pure fresh air... and I was at a loss again, as to what I should say.
“Jeremy... Frannie ....”
We both spoke simultaneously and he smiled. I felt a little break-through and he put out his hand, inviting me to speak first.
“Jeremy... I know how you feel. I really, really do and so if you want to be quiet, I’ll understand... and go on reading by book, but my shoulder is here... should you want it.”
He looked at me in a strange fashion and his eyes narrowed in the sun again.
“Are you going to cry? “ I asked and he cleared his throat.
“I don’t think I have any tears left, Frannie... but thanks all the same.”
I leaned across and kissed his cheek. “Besides,” he said, “You have your own problems and in many ways... worse than mine.”
I sipped my drink and looked at him over the top of my glass.
“It’s only my body that’s been hurt, Jeremy... He can’t touch my heart.”
I could see his lips quiver and after a few moments, he threw himself into my arms, falling to the lawn on his knees.
“Oh Frannie, why is it that we are both such prisoners of circumstance? Why can’t we just get on with our lives, like other people do, without all this agony that we are compelled to endure? I took Sebastian so much for granted and I believed he was happy with me. I was too selfish not to see that life could never be so sweet, all of the time.”
I ran my fingers across his shoulders and sighed.
“You miss him terribly, don’t you love?”
“Words cannot describe how much Frannie. He will hold me a prisoner for as long as I live. I shall never be free of him.”
His words silenced any suggestion that I had to console him and I was afraid, but I had to say something... anything, to let him realize that I did understand. ... “There... there now. Perhaps one day you will meet someone else and this will be just a bad memory and you will love again... perhaps even more.”
He blew his nose noisily, like a trumpet and a wasp flew over his head. He waved his hand in the air.
“I don’t think you understand Frannie. I will never ever love again, the way I loved Sebastian.”
“Did you know him when I was at home, before I went off to take up nursing?” I asked as another wasp landed on my glass and I shooed it away.
“I met him when I was sixteen... he was fifteen months and three days younger than me,” he replied and I was taken aback.
“So you knew him all that time... oh Jeremy, I had no idea... When I was at home... you were seeing Sebastian then?”
“Oh Gosh!, yes Frannie. Long before you left home when they were all talking about us getting married... Silly sods... “
I was about to ask him how they met, when he continued talking.
“I used to meet him every day, but we didn’t have a flat then and I could hardly have brought him home to meet Auntie now... could I?”
“How did you meet, Jeremy? Do you want to tell me?”
It was at this moment I saw him laugh; the first laughter of the morning.
“I’d have to get well stoned to tell you all the lurid details,” he grinned.
“Oh Please tell me Jeremy. You really have got me curious now.”
