Dear Anybody

by Rosa Temple

  Rob is casually dressed in skinny track suit bottoms and a thick sweater. He is unshaven by a few days. His dark hair makes him look paler than is healthy and he’s lost a bit of weight. It’s so long since I’ve seen him, he looks strange, like a different person, a stranger. In many respects I don’t really know Rob do I? He is someone who told me he loved me, probably not as many times as I’d like to have heard it said. But I cherished the times he did; on those late nights, the mornings in the shower, when I had stomach cramps and didn’t want him to touch me. I love you so much, he’d said. I truly believed him. I thought I knew everything about him. I thought I would marry him one day and have children with him.

  ‘I don’t suppose I need to ask how you found me.’ I was meticulous about not giving my location away to anyone in London apart from my parents and my sister. As for friends, I hadn’t been in touch with any of them, dropping off the face of the earth so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone about what happened between me and Rob.

  ‘Well I did put the pressure on your mum and dad,’ he says in soft voice. ‘In the end your dad gave you up.’ He attempts a smile, as if I’ll be amused. I swing past him and out of the front door. I imagine Jenna leaning way too far over the banister, listening intently, and Beth pulling her away disapprovingly.

  Outside, the sun is high, partly obscured by clouds in an otherwise bright blue sky. The temperature feels like minus degrees. I squint against the winter sun and fold my arms around me wishing I’d put on a coat or grabbed a scarf. Rob follows me to the lane where I stand with my back to him. I turn and he isn’t so close this time. Maybe he thinks I’ll take another swipe at him. Attacking Rob with a knife back in London was the most aggressive thing I’d ever done. The passion came out as an act of violence and I hated myself for it. Of course, I don’t tell him that. Now I stand looking proud and indifferent as if I haven’t a care in the world. Inside I’m shaking and there’s no denying my heart is still as fragile this morning as it was on that Indian summer night in September after finding him naked in bed, straddled by a woman. A woman I know, who was twirling around his penis, trying to get it better acquainted with her cervix. But I don’t want to lose it in front of him or my staff.

  ‘Congratulations on your new job, by the way,’ Rob ventures.

  ‘You came all the way here to tell me that? You could have sent a text.’

  ‘Are you still on the same number? I wondered because I never got a single message back from you.’

  ‘And you’re surprised because …?’

  ‘I’m not surprised, Syd. Not at all. Believe me. I know what I did was wrong. And I know what it’s done to you.’

  Does he? Does he really? Five minutes ago, I was upstairs planning to have sex with someone I hardly know. Now I’m here in front of a man I’ve loved since forever. I’m all turned around and I can hardly breathe. But I can’t let him walk away thinking I’m nothing without him.

  ‘You mean you know what it’s done to us, Rob. This is what you did to us.’ I point between the space in front of us. ‘You broke us and we can’t be fixed. This can’t be fixed.’

  ‘Don’t say that. Sydney, look, everything we had, everything we shared was because of you. You made our home beautiful. You made everything beautiful because that’s who you are, Syd. In your heart as a well as … well, look at you, you’re beautiful.’

  ‘The thing is Rob, I’m passed caring what you think of me now. I’ve moved on. This is my life now. Away from you, away from everyone.’

  ‘I didn’t want you to go away. If anything, I should have left. I tried to say but you never answered my messages or –’

  ‘And can you blame me for not wanting anything to do with you, with either of you, ever again?’

  He shakes his head and looks down. I catch a glimpse of someone at an upstairs window and walk away from the house, further along the country lane. Rob follows and stands beside me as I stare out across the single-track lane into the fields beyond. Behind the trees, on the other side of the road is a mill. I hear the water running through it and the wings of a bird flapping its way up to the tall branches. Above that I hear the sound of my teeth chattering together. We’re standing in the shade and I feel my skin prickle with goosebumps under the thin blouse I’m wearing. My thick cardigan is slumped over the back of my chair in my warm office. I want to get out of the cold and back inside but at the same time I sense the familiar warmth of Rob’s body beside mine. It feels like home, my body drawing ever closer to his, like a magnet. It seems wrong, somehow, to not hug him or hold his hand in such a beautiful setting. We’d never visited this part of the country together. Our talks about our wedding, when it finally happened, always favoured a country setting.

  I chastise myself for being so sentimental. I turn to Rob.

  ‘If you know what you’ve done and if you know I want nothing more to do with you then why are you here?’

  He faces me now, his expression growing sadder by the second until I feel like stroking his face and telling him everything will be okay. It’s what I would have done in the past. I was the one who made things right for Rob whenever he was sad.

  ‘Of course I came, I had to.’ He pauses as I try to remain poker faced. ‘There are things we need to sort out. I mean you’ve got loads of stuff at the flat. Clothes, books, shoes. Lots of shoes.’ He allows himself a small chuckle. ‘I thought you’d be missing those.’

  He’s right, I am.

  ‘Not only that,’ he goes on. ‘I don’t think I deserve to be the one who gets to keep it. You found it, you designed everything and –’

  ‘I’m not coming back to London, Rob. Not any time soon anyway.’

  ‘Yes, I know you have this job and everything, but your folks said it was temporary. I could find somewhere else and be out of there when you decide to come back.’

  I stare at him for a long time. I’ve really missed that face.

  ‘I could never go back there,’ I say. He blinks his watery eyes several times. ‘Look, Rob. Stay. Go. It’s up to you. It’s not like I’ve been paying the mortgage these past few months. As for my things, I’ll arrange for someone to come and get the rest of them. I can email you and let you know who and when so you can let them in to pack up my stuff.’

  ‘Practically everything is yours.’

  ‘I only want personal things. You can keep the furniture and kitchen stuff if you want or sell it on Ebay if you don’t. I don’t care.’

  ‘Sydney.’

  I don’t answer just pull my arms in closer and allow my teeth to chatter at full volume.

  ‘You want to get back inside?’ he asks. I shoot him a dark look and Rob backs away by a few steps.

  I turn to go but feel his hand on my arm. It feels so natural to have him touch me, the night in early September fading away as if it had all been a bad dream. How can Rob touching me like this weaken my defences so quickly, so easily? Is that why I’d stayed away, resolving to hate him? A single touch and a torrent of confusion and emotion floods over me. As I turn to look at him his eyes are dark pools that tell the story of our lives. All the things we shared and all the regret I have for losing the man I loved. The man I love. I still love him. The bastard.

  He holds both my arms when he sees I’m not resisting and I want to be held. His hands are strong and should be holding me. I’m not wired to be alone. Without Rob.

  ‘You’re shaking,’ he says.

  ‘I’m cold, idiot.’

  ‘Can we go somewhere to talk? My car is right over there.’

  Without a word I walk towards Rob’s car. It’s unlocked so I jump right in.

  ‘Where to?’ he says.

  ‘Just drive and I’ll direct you.’

  We end up at Carey’s. I know she’s not there because she left for Manchester and won’t be back until tomorrow. The house is quiet and chilly. I shiver but hesitate to move any further into the house than the front hall.

  ‘We can talk here,’ I begin to say and before I ca
n finish my sentence Rob is kissing me and I’m letting him. I’m lonely, sad and empty and I know his kisses have always been a tonic for me. I kiss him back, hard, as the tears slide down my cheeks. I don’t even try to stop the little gulps and chokes. I can’t stop kissing Rob and he’s crying too. I think of the countless nights this year I’ve spent crying my heart out, sitting up late into the night wondering if any of what happened was my fault. I’m losing my balance, control of my emotions. I miss our flat. I miss our life together and I just want to recapture it. I know what I’m doing is wrong and I’ll regret it in five minutes, but for five minutes, can’t I just feel like the old me again?

  *

  I wake up in Rob’s arms, hot and tired in my bed. He is breathing heavily, naked and asleep beside and probably very pleased with himself. It was the best sex we’d had in a long time. It was like the old days. The honeymoon period, the time I thought everything would be all right and nothing could ever go wrong. My first thoughts, after I come to and realise what we’ve done, is to wonder whether she was better than me in bed. I blink my eyes shut and feel a tear escape. When I open my eyes again, I hate myself for what I’ve allowed happen. I can’t bear to be next to Rob anymore.

  I try to ease myself out of bed and get dressed before he wakes up.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asks in a sleepy voice as I sit on the edge of the bed, my back to him. I fold my arms around my body and stay put.

  ‘Rob you need to go. Things haven’t changed. I just made a big mistake and I’d like you to leave.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’

  ‘Just go Rob. Go before I get really angry and start saying things I’ll regret.’

  He is silent and dresses slowly. I wrap the quilt round me and sit and looking down at the turquoise polish on my toenails. Carey and I had sat up in my room a few nights before doing pedicures and talking about our favourite films. We shared a few in common. I felt I’d disrespected Carey’s house by allowing Rob in.

  ‘That’s it,’ he says. ‘Done. Should I just let myself out?’

  Without turning to face him I walk to the door. I hold it open and simply nod my head.

  Rob stops at the door and touches my cheek. He doesn’t say anything, not even goodbye and quietly leaves. He is silent on the staircase and in closing the front door. I don’t believe he’s left the house until I hear the engine of his car start up. A sound I know so well. He doesn’t drive off straight away. Maybe he is hoping I’ll change my mind and come running after him. Maybe he is setting Google Maps to direct him back to London. One thing is for sure. I’m relieved when he finally pulls out of the drive.

  Chapter 23

  Beth and Jenna were both very understanding the next day when I made up a cock and bull story about who Rob was, what he was doing in Bridley and why I left the office without telling anyone so close to publication. Apparently, Alexandra had put in a rare and unexpected appearance and they had both covered for me.

  ‘So, you’re all right are you?’ Jenna had said, as subtly as she could. Of course, she didn’t believe the story about Rob being a distant cousin who had come to give me the shocking news of his mother’s death after a long drawn out illness in a nursing home. I told them I was too emotional to go back to the office and needed some time to get over what happened. “Needing some time” was the only realistic part of my story. With knowing exchanges between them, Jenna and Beth allowed me to lie and together we’d continued to get the magazine ready for publication.

  I finalise my response to the Dear Vicky letter from Damian so that it’s obvious I’m interested in him. I figure I should make an even bigger effort to step up my attempts to go out with him. I need saving from myself. I couldn’t risk jumping into bed with Rob again just because he touched me or looked at me a certain way. I need to get over him at a speedier rate than my heartstrings are allowing and sleeping with another man will be the ideal way to begin the process.

  ‘Sydney, are you sure you’re all right?’ Carey asks as we put our dinner plates into the dishwasher after our meal. She came back from her job in Manchester in a much better mood than she’s been since her dinner party. I haven’t told her that Rob turned up. I think I am still in shock about what I allowed my body to do after he touched me.

  ‘Me? Yes, yes, I’m fine. Really I am.’

  ‘Well, you know you just put a wine bottle in the dishwasher, right?’ she says.

  ‘Shit. Really? Okay. I suppose you don’t go in for that sort of thing in Bridley. Am I right?’

  ‘You said it.’

  Carey walks over to me and takes both my hands. Walking backwards towards the dinner table she pulls me along the slate floor tiles and sits me down at one corner of the table, taking the adjacent chair. She crosses her slim legs and tucks the sides of her hair behind her ears before putting her elbows on the table. The fact that she has pushed her hair aside and isn’t about to hide behind it tells me she wants to listen, talk openly and possibly help me out of my funk.

  I stare at Carey, unable to start the conversation. She is a very attractive woman, beautiful in fact, with an innocence that reveals how unaware of her allure she is. Carey professes to be single, but I wonder if she might be hiding a romance from me. It could be new. Someone she worked with on a photo shoot perhaps. She has been very good at avoiding any questions about suitors in my bid to unravel more about her than having a fabulous house and career. I wanted to know the hows, whys and wherefores but she either very swiftly changes the subject or hides behind her hair armour. Maybe Carey thinks if she gives me even a crumb about her private life I won’t stop digging until she has to reveal whatever it is she has fought to keep from me. The day after her dinner party I couldn’t help but wonder about how she’d managed to spend an evening with her friends but not say anything to them about her personal life or what she’d been up to. All she’d talked about was her work. I assumed they all knew her history and were just as unwilling to bring it up as she was because not one of them mentioned anything about the past other than the odd “do you remember when?” story that didn’t uncover any of the mystery surrounding Carey.

  I’m deep in thought about Carey so I won’t have to think about Rob as she sits looking at me. I stare back at her until it becomes ridiculous. I finally crack because, try as I may, I can’t keep Rob out of my thoughts.

  ‘You know the guy I broke up with?’ I blurt out. Carey nods. ‘Well he was here yesterday.’

  ‘And how did that make you feel?’

  ‘Angry. Yes, angry. At first anyway. Then I think I was a little indifferent or at least that’s how I acted with him until …’

  Carey says nothing, replaces a strand of hair that has escaped from behind her ear.

  ‘I got a bit carried away,’ I say, my eyes darting from side to side. ‘All he did was touch me and I was like putty in his hands. We drove back here and I let him into my bed, into my arms and … well I think you get the picture.’

  ‘It’s easily done, Sydney. You know that right?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Seriously. I call it break up sex. You dated him for what? Five years? Lived with him for three of those. You were obviously very close and some parts of us just stay attached. The familiarity of your bodies meeting like that makes you nostalgic for all the good things you miss about him. It’s only chemistry.’

  ‘I like the way you put it. I mean, is that a real thing or are you just trying to make me feel better about myself? Am I just a stupid cow who doesn’t know when to quit when she’s ahead?’

  ‘But are you, though? Ahead?’

  I look at Carey, puzzled, not sure I know what she means or if I’m allowing myself to.

  ‘About a thousand years ago when I was younger. Just out of college,’ she continues. ‘I fell head over heels in love with this man. He was the worst kind of bastard you could ever meet. Everyone told me so. My parents, my friends, even his colleagues. They all told me to leave him. But I lov
ed him so deeply, so unconditionally, the thought of ditching him was unthinkable until, finally, I allowed myself to see him for what he was. A liar, a cheat, a slob, a lazy git and the list goes on. So then I broke up with him once and for all. But do you know how many times I slept with him after the breakup before I could finally admit to myself that I was being an idiot? I didn’t see it at the time, but I was shutting off any possibility of getting over him by jumping into bed with him each time he flexed a muscle or looked at me in a certain way.’

  ‘So, you’re saying I was an idiot to sleep with Rob?’

  ‘No. I’m just saying you’re human. Tons of people do what you did. Sleeping with an ex can be so comforting. It makes you forget your heart is breaking and you can escape the pain of breaking up, even if you know the pain will be there again the next day.’

  ‘My God, Carey. If you want a job on the magazine as Dear Vicky, just let me know.’

  ‘What, and you’d fire the actual professional who does the job for real?’ She laughs.

  I laugh, too and I’m about to ask if she knows it’s all made up about there being an expert therapist who writes the Dear Vicky page. I stop myself when I remember my vow of secrecy to Alexandra and the magazine staff. No one other than us knows ‘Vicky’ is the editor. I can’t even tell Carey. I’m sure she would keep the secret and she’d probably think it funny that I, of all people, should be helping solve other people’s problems.

  ‘You just have a great way of making me see things for what they are,’ I say.

  ‘Maybe there is more to what happened between you and Rob than you are letting on. Even to yourself. And maybe that’s where you need to start.’