by June Gadsby
“No, that’s all right dear. We’d already said our goodbyes.”
That’s when I made an utter and complete fool of myself and broke down, sobbing, shedding great hot, crocodile tears. Hilary put the tray down and hurried over to me. She put her arms about me and hugged me tightly to her.
“Oh, my dear, it’s all right. It’s all right. You’ll see. Everything will work out right in the end.”
She didn’t know what she was saying.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I stayed overnight with Hilary Andrews. She was very kind, didn’t ask questions or probe into the reasons for my deplorable state. She tucked me into bed with a glass of warm milk and honey and another lacing of Callum’s Armagnac. It made me feel like a little girl who had been ill. I couldn’t help but lap up the attention.
The next morning, I took a taxi back home. Hilary would have driven me, but I thought it best not to get her involved in my marital problems. And besides, I didn’t quite know what I would find once I got there.
I found Greg, unshaven and still in his dressing gown, sitting gloomily staring into a half-empty mug of cold instant coffee. He had never had the patience to make proper ground coffee in the percolator. As I entered, my heels clicking on the tiled floor, he raised his head as if it weighed a ton. His eyes were red and bleary from all the alcohol he had consumed, and his hair was tangled and hanging limply over his forehead.
“Oh, thank God, Megan!”
He got clumsily to his feet and came at me with arms outstretched those big hands of his aiming for me. I stepped back, fearing yet another attack, but I was wrong.
“Where on earth did you go? I was so worried…I…I thought maybe you wouldn’t come back.”
“And now you see I have.”
“Is that…?” One hand directed itself towards my bruised and battered face and I shrank away yet again. “Is that what I did to you, Megan? Jesus Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t. Really, I didn’t.”
“There are a lot of things you didn’t mean to do, Greg,” I said, surprised that I could keep my voice so level. Talking still hurt like the devil and I could feel the splits in my lips re-opening. “But you’ll not do them again. I want more than promises this time.”
He frowned at me and pushed back his unruly hair from out of his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Greg, that you are a very sick man and unless you seek help – professional psychiatric help, you can say goodbye to me forever. I’m just not going to stand for your behaviour any more. Do I make myself clear?”
Greg chewed on his mouth and slowly his face crumpled. But at least he understood what I was saying. I saw his head nod up and down.
“Say it, Greg,” I insisted. “I want to hear you say it out loud.”
“Yes...yes…anything you want…I’ll do it. I’ll go and see somebody…anybody, just as long as you promise you’ll never leave me.”
I sighed and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. “Greg, I’ve kept all the promises I made to you on our wedding day. It hasn’t been easy, I can tell you, but I kept them anyway, because I’m like that. You see, rightly or wrongly, I believe in the sanctity of marriage. Maybe I’ve been stupid to stick by you, but there was always something in me that said our marriage was worth saving.” His dark eyes were watching me closely. I’m not even sure he understood what I was trying to say. Maybe I didn’t understand myself. “But I’m not going to make any more promises, Greg. The next step is up to you. Either I stay with you or I leave you. Whatever I do will depend on your behaviour from this moment on. You’ve run out of second chances.”
“Megan, please…. I’ll do everything I can to put things right between us, honest. Trust me. I…I’ll make an appointment to see a shrink next week…”
“Tomorrow!”
“Yes, all right…tomorrow. Megan, I love you, you know? I’ve never stopped loving you.”
I got up, drained of all emotion. I stared at him blankly and then went upstairs to change and rest my aching head. I knew then that I no longer loved this man I was married to. Exactly when the loving had stopped I didn’t know. It seemed like it faded away a lifetime ago, as though it had never existed. I no longer even despised him. What I felt was an overwhelming pity and as long as this lasted, I would stay with him, support him, guide him if need be towards a better existence. Who knows? If things worked out right, I might even learn to love him all over again. Even as I thought these words I think I knew at the bottom of me that I was fooling myself.
* * *
Callum had been in America for ten weeks and five days when Hilary announced that he was coming home. The tour was over, and it had been an unqualified success. She wanted to celebrate his return with a dinner party. Just family and close friends.
“Now, my dear, I do hope you and Greg will come. It will please Callum so much to see you again.”
“Oh, but I…” This had not been in my plan of things. I did not want to mix socially ever again with Callum, did not even want to see him. It was too dangerous. For both of us. The thoughts of a fool! Hilary’s friendship had become too precious. If I didn’t want to lose that, I had to agree to see Callum.
“I’m not going to take no for an answer,” Hilary had a bossy streak when she wanted to get her own way. “I told Callum on the phone only yesterday that you would be there, and he’ll be very disappointed if you’re not. Besides, we would rather like to talk to you about doing a portrait of the grandchildren.”
“Oh?”
“Do say you’ll come, Megan,” she implored, her hands squeezing mine. “I always find Callum’s homecomings rather traumatic. Don’t ask why. I can’t explain it. And he’s been in such a foul mood…well, I’ve told you all that before. You’re coming and that’s that. If Greg can’t or won’t come, you must come on your own. Right?”
I inclined my head and my mouth cracked into a small, tight smile. “All right, Hilary.”
How could I refuse her? It was, however, in my mind to find some excuse later not to go, but the days passed, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The fact is, my resolve never to see Callum again was weakened to such an extent there was no way in which I wanted to get out of seeing him, even if it meant sharing him with his family and friends. Where was the harm, I kept asking myself over and over? We could hardly carry on an affair under the noses of everyone present. Even if our hearts were breaking inside.
Being sensible, I think my mother would call it. That kiss and the moment of passion we had shared was no more than a passing madness. A phase. We were, after all, mature adults and that small slip should not ruin our friendship.
I was very good at talking to myself sensibly and I did a lot of it over the next few days, right up until Greg and I arrived at the Andrews’ house, a little late because I had to persuade Greg to accompany me at the last minute. There seemed to be lights on right through the house and even on the drive we could hear a murmur of conversation, laughter and the chink of glasses.
“It sounds pretty lively.” Greg remarked and tugged nervously at his bow tie.
I was proud of him. It was three weeks since he had gone off the rails and hit me. Since then, he had been seeing a psychotherapist three times a week and already the difference in him was noticeable. He was almost like the Greg of the old days, except he no longer drank or smoked. The mild sedatives provided by the doctor and the tactful counselling took care of the rest. He had gone back to work ten days ago, which helped enormously since we were no longer in each other’s hair all day long.
“I suppose we just go in,” I said, seeing that the front door was wide open, and my ringing of the bell had not attracted anyone’s attention, other than the over-excited poodle. “Now, Greg, remember! No alcohol. You promised.”
“Not even a glass of champagne, if it’s on offer?” He looked at me with a pained smile.
“You can have a sip, but that’s all, okay?”
“Okay. You’re the bo
ss, Megan. Come on, let’s go say hello to your Mister Wonderful.”
My heart did a double flip at his words and then my stomach filled with the vibrating wings of a thousand butterflies. Damn! Stop it! I silently remonstrated with my body.
There were an amazing number of people gathered in the smart, spacious lounge. I recognised a handful of them and acknowledged their nods and smiles. Callum was standing in the middle of them. His presence drew me like a magnet. I held back, feeling ridiculously light-headed and breathless. Was it too late to turn and run out of that room and never come back?
Yes. It was too late. Callum was turning, almost as if he sensed me standing there. He saw me, devoured me with his eyes for one magical moment then, recovering himself, he smiled genially, the perfect host, and came forward to kiss me on both cheeks and shake Greg’s hand.
“Why, Megan…Greg! What a pleasant surprise.”
“Did…Didn’t you know we were coming?” I stuttered, feeling a hot flush rise from my throat up to my cheeks.
“I didn’t even know about this party.” Callum laughed and one or two of the others joined in. “It was all Hilary’s idea.”
Hilary Andrews came to join her husband, looking tiny and rotund next to him.
“Oh, I am sorry, Megan. I shouldn’t have lied to you, but…” She saw Callum’s curious frown and explained. “Megan here was very reluctant to come, Callum, so I told her that you would be disappointed if she weren’t here.”
His eyes were fixed on my face and it was a moment before he dragged them away and laughed down at his wife. “Oh, Hilary, it’s not like you to be so devious. However, having said that, I would have been disappointed. It’s good to see you again Megan. Do let me get you a glass of wine. Greg?”
“I’m on fruit juice,” Greg told him quickly. “Er…doctor’s orders…and Megan’s.”
Callum glanced at me, then back at Greg. “You’re looking good on your new regime, Greg. Congratulations. Will you be able to keep it up?”
The two men were being extremely civil to one another considering the intense dislike they harboured one for the other.
“I’ve promised Megan that I would and this time I mean it. I...er…I don’t want to lose her.”
“I should say not. She’s much too precious. There must be a string of suitors just waiting to step into your shoes….” Those gleaming black eyes slid my way again and I felt my bones begin to melt. He handed me my drink and our hands touched accidentally. I tingled from head to foot and wished I were a million miles away.
“That’s what worries me,” Greg grinned and looked around him. “Great party. How was the tour?”
“The tour was long and tiring, but successful. Come and let me introduce you to the people you don’t know.”
There was a magnificent buffet spread out in the dining room, which Hilary proudly announced that she had been preparing since five o’clock that morning. I thought she looked tired and a little flustered and now I realised why.
I had no appetite but put food on my plate anyway. It would have looked bad not to. I noticed Greg had no difficulty piling his own plate high with a variety of delicacies. He would pay for overeating later. However, I was relieved to see that he stuck to the orange juice and hoped it wasn’t laced with gin or vodka, which seemed to be in plentiful supply as well as a range of good French wines.
I found myself wedged in a corner of the room with Hilary, Stuart and his wife, Pamela, who looked at me with unbridled animosity, though I had no idea why, unless she resented the fact that her mother-in-law insisted on including me in the family group. As I sat there, smiling brightly and feeling miserable, Callum sauntered up, bottle in hand, to replenish everyone’s glasses.
“Well, isn’t this pleasant!” he enthused a little too forcefully and I remembered somewhere along the line being told that he hated parties.
“Callum, why don’t you play something for us on the piano,” Pamela suggested with a simpering smile. “I’m sure everyone would appreciate it.”
“Oh, dear, am I expected to perform? Even at my own party?” he grimaced, then flashed a brilliant white smile and I realised for the first time that he was deeply tanned and twice as handsome. He had obviously taken time out in America to relax and get some sun.
“Oh, no, dear!” Hilary was tugging at his sleeve. “Do come and sit down. There’s something I want to discuss.”
I started to get up, not wishing to intrude in family business, but Hilary ordered me to sit back down and said that it concerned Greg and me too. I didn’t know where Greg was at that moment. He was last seen talking to a sexy brunette who got so animated she spilled her wine down his front and there was great hilarity as she mopped him dry with her hankie.
“Now then,” Hilary said and heaved a great sigh. “As usual, the minute Callum gets home, he can’t wait to rush off to France. It’s Easter coming up and we thought it might be nice to take you with us, Stuart and Pamela, and the children.” Then she looked pointedly at me and I blinked back, not suspecting at all what was coming. “And we’d also like you to join us, Megan, dear. With Greg, of course, if he’d like to come along. I think you really do need a holiday and…well, it would help me so much to have you there with me.”
I saw Callum flinch and knew that this was something else he had not been told about. He said nothing for the moment, but the muscles in his cheeks flexed as if Hilary’s statement had touched a raw nerve.
“It’s very kind of you, but…. really, we can’t…” I muttered uncomfortably.
“Can’t what?” I hadn’t seen Greg arrive from the other side of the room, having parted from his talkative, giggling companion with the large breasts and Botoxed lips.
“We want you and Megan to come to France with us. It’s a huge, rambling old barn of a place in the middle of nowhere. I hate it, but Callum won’t part with it. He likes everything about the place and wants to retire there one day, would you believe. If he does I’ve told him he’ll have to go on his own.”
“I don’t know why you don’t sell the place, Dad,” Stuart put in his two-pennorth in on the side of his mother. “Buy an apartment in Paris or Aix-en-Provence. Mum would like that.”
“I’m not sure that she would,” Callum said not unkindly.
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that unless you all come with us, I’m definitely not going, so there.” Hilary pouted like a little child trying to force a decision on reluctant parents. She leaned over and placed a warm, pudgy hand on my knee. “You will come, won’t you, Megan? I’ll find it much more agreeable with you there. We get on so well. Callum can lock himself away in his garret or have a drink and a chat with the awful locals. Stuart and Pamela, you’d be free to enjoy yourselves, and the children will no doubt have a marvellous time in the pool.”
I was looking at Callum, trying to find some clue in his suddenly expressionless face to let me in on the way he was thinking. It was impossible. Impossible to go, an agony to stay and bask in the knowledge that I could have had a much-needed holiday. And spend it with Callum.
“No…” I started to shake my head. “I really don’t think…”
“Of course, we’ll come,” Greg suddenly said, and my head snapped around to see if it was indeed my husband I had heard and not someone else. But it was Greg all right. And he was smiling across at me and looking enthusiastic. “It’ll be like a second honeymoon.”
“I’ll tell them to prepare the bridal suite,” Callum said, a trifle caustically, and with a hard, cold glance at me, turned on his heel and marched off, forgetting to refill our glasses.
“There! Now, what did I tell you?” Hilary breathed, her face creasing in discontent. “One minute he’s as nice as pie and the next he’s a bear with a sore head. I think he’s sickening for something. That’s why I suggested this holiday. He’s on his own far too much, you know.” She spread her hands and shrugged her plump shoulders. “Ah, well. Chest la vie. As they say in France.”
Chapter Tw
enty-Seven
On the morning we were due to leave for France, I was wavering between feelings of reluctance and excitement. While one part of me said, quite sensibly, that it was a stupid, hair-brained idea, the traitorous side of my brain was thinking in terms of reprieve. I was going to have the opportunity of spending time with the man I loved, even if that time was limited and, I knew, there was no way in which we would find ourselves alone together.
“The whole thing’s too risky.” I said to Ros the evening before when I went to say cheerio and leave her the key to the house and a variety of instructions for looking after my special plants. “I really think I ought to change my mind.”
“Chicken out, do you mean?” Ros was sceptical.
“Cancel, chicken out, run away…whatever. Oh, Ros, I’m quickly going off the idea because I don’t think it’s fair. Not fair to any of us. And…”
“And?”
“And I don’t know how I’m going to stand being that close to him and hide my feelings. It’s like a physical pain, you know, to love someone so much it hurts, and knowing you can never have him.”
“Tell me about it.”
I looked at her questioningly and she averted her gaze. Until then I had never imagined Ros being in love with anyone. How wrong we can be in judging others.
“What should I do, Ros?”
“You’re going to France and you’re going to have a marvellous time. Gypsy Ros has seen it all in her crystal ball. Now, let’s go over this list of yours again. Are you sure these funny fly-trap things don’t bite?”
I laughed at her ignorance and shook my head. “Only if you’re a fly, Ros. Look, don’t worry, it’s all very easy…”
* * *
Greg had carried our bags downstairs, then rushed back to his office to take a phone call. Time was getting short and I was a little worried that he would still be on the phone when Callum and Hilary arrived. Callum was driving us to the airport and a friend was going to collect his car later in the day. It was more reliable than a taxi that might turn up late or not at all.
