Fallen Women

by Sue Welfare

  Kate smiled; the events of childhood ran into each other. No sooner had you blown out one set of candles than it was time to light the bonfire, turn round and drop the last of the glowing sparklers just in time to hang up your pillowcase, pull on your mittens, and build a snowman before stepping out of the front door into high summer.

  Now there was a very grown up terrace where the sandpit had been, with a hanging water feature and elegant square trellis, trimmed with honeysuckle and clematis and heavily scented climbing roses, against the wall that they’d hung their first dartboard on.

  ‘Penny for them?’ said Maggie, from the other side of the table.

  Kate jumped, whipped back into the present. ‘I should keep your money, Mum, I was on a whistle-stop tour down memory lane.’ She got to her feet and began clearing the table. ‘Is there anything you’d like to do today?’

  Maggie sighed ruefully. ‘I’d like to know what’s going on.’

  There was a little pause while Kate ran hot water into the sink and started tidying things away, so Maggie continued, ‘And I had been planning a trip to Cambridge before this,’ she nodded towards the unwieldy plaster cast, with its five pink piglets poking out of the end, which was currently resting on a chair. ‘Go round the market, indulge myself at the Monsoon sale shop, find somewhere trendy for lunch that does extraordinary things with goats’ cheese, treat myself to a glass of champagne, and then wander home, tired but happy.’

  ‘We could still do that if you wanted to,’ said Kate, although she couldn’t quite keep the reluctance out of her voice.

  Maggie stared at her and then laughed. ‘You always were a lousy liar, Kate. It’ll keep and anyway I’d only spend too much money. I want to nip in and out of places not be wheeled about like some grand old dowager on her rounds. I’ll be fine here, I thought I’d take a book out into the garden if it stays as nice as this. It’s so frustrating not being able to get on with anything. Guy said he’d ring me this morning if he gets time so that I can moan at him.’

  There was a moment of stillness and then Maggie said, ‘I hope the phone didn’t disturb you last night.’

  Kate sensed the ongoing invitation to talk and wondered, if she opened her mouth, exactly what words might come out. One thing was for sure, Maggie was right about her finding it very hard to lie.

  ‘He’s totally besotted with you, isn’t he?’ Kate said, wiping crumbs off the pine table with a damp cloth.

  Maggie nodded. ‘And then some, and if I’m honest I suppose I am too. He’s a lovely man. Kind, funny; I’ve known him for about eighteen months now and the shine still doesn’t seem to have worn off. I’d expected to resurface by now – you know, the three month madness rule?’

  ‘You don’t have to justify yourself to me.’ It sounded harsher than Kate intended.

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  Kate took a deep breath, wondering where to start but her mouth was already well ahead of her, ‘Taz told me that he’d asked you to marry him.’ The words came out like an accusation, petulant and affronted.

  Maggie calmly nodded. ‘Uhuh, that’s right, he did. And?’

  Kate shifted her weight feeling uncomfortable. ‘Didn’t it occur to you that maybe Liz and I ought to know about it?’

  ‘Probably – I suppose I don’t see you often enough to find the way into those kinds of conversations, Kate. You know what it’s like when we talk on the phone. It’s all football teams and exam results. It’s hard to just launch into those conversations about doubts and considerations, weighing up the pros and cons, the ones about not knowing.’

  Kate felt her colour deepen a shade or two as Maggie continued, ‘I suppose that when it comes to relationships I’m not comfortable about discussing my deliberations or my hopes and fears with you. At my age those are my mistakes to make. However much we love each other there are just some conversations that parents and children find it hard to have.

  ‘If I was worried about it then, trust me, I’d tell you. With Guy I needed time to think about what I felt before I said anything.’ And as she spoke Maggie met Kate’s eye without hesitation. For an instant Kate was thrown. Wasn’t she keeping secrets just as close to her chest, closing Maggie out because she was afraid too? Did she fear Maggie’s pity? Was it that she felt sordid, as if Joe and Chrissie’s adultery had tainted her too? Or was it that Joe’s affair made her feel as if she had failed?

  ‘And besides which,’ Maggie said, taking a bite out of the toast crusts piled up on her plate. ‘I said no.’

  ‘Oh, right. And did you mean it?’ asked Kate, struggling to regain her composure.

  Maggie nodded, speaking through a mouthful of crumbs. ‘For the moment.’

  Kate felt a wave of heat roll through her. ‘Then you might say yes?’

  ‘I might do. Eventually. The thing is I genuinely haven’t made up my mind. I’m enjoying my freedom.’ She looked across at Kate and laughed, ‘Oh come on, Kate, lighten up for God’s sake. It’s a big decision to make at any age, and I’ve certainly got no plans to rush into it. But trust me, if I ever decide to get married again you will be one of the first to know.’ Her tone was patient but had a real no nonsense edge to it.

  Kate knew she ought to back off. There was no way, as an adult, that she wanted Maggie nosing in her affairs – hadn’t she just spent the last twenty-four hours batting her off? But even so Kate couldn’t quite hold her feelings in, they bubbled out between her lips unbidden. ‘But what about Dad? What about me and Liz? Doesn’t how we feel count too? Don’t we have a say in what you do?’ It sounded preposterous when said aloud.

  Maggie’s gaze didn’t falter. ‘Certainly you can have a say, love. But I’m not spending my life sitting home waiting for you to call or to tell me what you think I should be doing, Kate. You are entitled to an opinion but not the final word. Surely you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t deliberately do anything to upset either you or Liz but this is my life. Your dad loved me far too much to want me to spend the rest of my life alone.’

  ‘I understand that, I can see that you need company, but the thing is, Mum, it’s just that Guy is so, so …’ Kate reached around for some polite euphemism, some softening words but there were none, ‘… so young.’

  There it was, it was out now. There was no going back.

  To her total amazement, Maggie laughed. ‘You don’t say,’ she said without missing a beat.

  Kate blushed furiously as the tension that had been steadily growing between them broke into dozens of pieces.

  ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me that he is incredibly mature?’ Kate said grumpily.

  Maggie still laughing, said, ‘No, not at all, quite the reverse in fact and I’m glad. I don’t want to be with someone who makes me feel old and responsible, Kate. I’ve done all that. What I want is to be with someone who loves me as I am, someone to have fun with, who sees me not my age. When I was young and maybe should have been doing silly, exciting, romantic things I was married and had you two. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it for an instant and I loved your dad, and being a mum; you and Liz gave me more joy than I can possibly say. I wouldn’t have wished him gone for the world, but he is gone and in that space – that second chance – I’m going to do some of the things I didn’t get chance to do first time around.

  ‘I’ve been on my own five years now and I’ve been out with quite a few men, most of them around your dad’s age, but I think that to appreciate their finer qualities you really have to have grown older with them. So many of them are incredibly boring and set in their ways, pompous, overweight, under-sexed …’

  Kate looked away, reddening furiously, but Maggie wasn’t done yet.

  ‘… with hernias and haemorrhoids and heartburn – it’s absolutely terrifying. Middle-aged men don’t seem to wear well. I just kept thinking that all they really wanted was someone to look after them in their old age and almost anyone would do, someone to cook and clean and take care of them. I don’t want that. I want someone
who wants me, not a substitute, not a nurse, not a mother, but me. And yes, I do know exactly how old I am and how old Guy is, Kate. But I also want and deserve a companion and a friend and a lover, someone to share with and travel with and plan things with, someone who has got as much zest for life as I have.’

  Kate nodded, feeling a wave of tears that took her by surprise. ‘But what about if he goes, what if he gets tired of you? He’s so young, and so bloody pretty. He could have anyone –’ It sounded dreadful but Kate couldn’t stop now. ‘What if he up and leaves you for some sexy little twenty-eight-year-old? Some dolly bird. How the hell are you going to feel then?’ It was cruel but the words were all out before Kate had any time to soften them.

  Maggie shrugged philosophically, although Kate sensed the flash of pain. The ideas could hardly have come as a surprise to her.

  ‘Who knows?’ she said after a few seconds. ‘I haven’t lied to him about my age, Kate – he knows who and what I am. Let’s face it he could run off with somebody else even if he was sixty – age is no guarantee of fidelity. I have given it a lot of thought, but realistically I’m just as likely to be the one who gets bored and ditches him. All right, from where you’re sitting logic and natural paranoia would suggest that Guy will eventually leave and probably find someone younger. But what if he doesn’t? What if he really, truly, wants to spend the rest of his life with me or even just a few years of it? Am I going to pass up the chance of being happy with him because of what might happen? I’d rather have a little bit of something wonderful than a lifetime of mediocrity. Whatever happens I know I’ll survive, Kate; losing your dad taught me that. Life doesn’t come with guarantees.’

  ‘But what about getting hurt?’ said Kate desperately.

  Maggie sighed. ‘Even if I get hurt or end up hurting him, it’s worth the risk. I love him, Kate, and I know that he loves me. It might not be forever but it is for now. He wasn’t what I had expected at all but fate can be so odd. I like being in a relationship. I like being in this relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind being alone or having my own space – in some ways I really enjoy it, but I’m just happier as part of something bigger.’

  Kate stared at her. What else was there to say? For a moment, the two women looked at each other and then Kate looked away, conceding defeat without rancour.

  But before either of them could think of the next thing to say, Kate’s mobile rang. She glanced down at the screen: it was Joe. Without a backward glance, Kate got to her feet and headed out into the garden. The sun was already warm, creeping in through the trellis, its shadow cutting the patio into bite-sized, sunlit pieces. She pressed the button to take the call and at the same time took a breath.

  ‘Where the hell have you been? I thought you said that you’d ring me,’ Joe barked abruptly without any preamble before Kate had chance to speak.

  Taken aback, she spluttered, ‘Hang on a minute, Joe, you told me to ring you; I was going to call you later.’ She was already on the defensive with no clear idea of why.

  ‘You got my message then?’

  ‘Yes. I took Mum over to Liz’s for supper last night, we didn’t get back until late. I didn’t want to disturb you.’ As she spoke Kate was aware of her mind carefully forming each word and as it did examining every one for anything that might be inflammatory or that could be misinterpreted. It made her feel sad. Things had changed between them forever.

  ‘Right. And so? What? You didn’t turn your phone on? Or you didn’t take it with you?’

  Why did he want to know that? The conversation was so stiff that it felt as if the words might snap off and break.

  ‘No, I just told you. I thought it was too late to ring. The thing is, Joe, I –’ The words were hard to find, even harder to say. How could Kate tell him that she hadn’t wanted to speak to him? As it was, Kate didn’t have to because Joe jumped in before she had time to finish the sentence.

  ‘You know Bill came round here last night, don’t you?’ he snapped. ‘He told me he’d already spoken to you, said that you’d rung him. To be perfectly honest, Kate, I’m surprised that you said anything to Bill and I’m angry that you didn’t ring me first. I’m your husband, for Christ’s sake.’

  Kate was surprised too. Part of her at least had hoped, maybe even assumed, that Joe might be apologetic, conciliatory, although in her mind’s eye she could see him now, standing there in the hall, and as she did, caught a glimpse of the way he looked. She imagined his stance, his face, the way he twisted the coiled flex between supple guitar player’s fingers and she knew without a doubt that Joe was furious and affronted by her calling Bill.

  ‘I rang him yesterday,’ Kate said in a neutral voice. ‘I just wanted someone to talk to.’

  He snorted. ‘Right. So you talked to Golden Boy? Poured your heart out, did you? Very cosy. Couldn’t wait to tell him your side of the story. What, wasn’t I good enough?’

  The venom in his voice stunned Kate. ‘Sorry?’

  Joe’s reply came back in an instant. ‘You know what I mean, Kate. Washing your dirty linen in public. Why did you have to tell anyone anyway? Couldn’t you just keep it to yourself? Why couldn’t you talk to me? What were you trying to do, get the sympathy vote? I know that we can work this out, if we keep it quiet, just between ourselves, but now Bill knows and I suppose you’ve told Maggie as well and what about your precious bloody sister and Peter? You telling people changes everything, Kate. We need to put it behind us and you’re making it very difficult. You’re not the only one in this, you know, and you’re certainly not the only one who’s been hurt.’

  Reeling, Kate had to fight to catch her breath. It was such a strange thing to say and then Kate had a revelation. ‘Oh my God, I get it. You’ve been to see Chrissie, haven’t you?’ she whispered. It wasn’t a question it was a statement.

  For a moment Joe said nothing and then he said, ‘I was worried about her, that’s all. You know what she’s like. She’s in a really bad way at the moment.’

  Kate shook her head in disbelief, amazed at the depth of concern in his voice. ‘And whose fault it that, Joe? You’re the one who is always going on about how she brings it on herself. Well, she certainly did this time, didn’t she? What am I supposed to do? Rush back home to comfort her? Ring her up and offer her a shoulder to cry on or my sympathies? You didn’t want me to tell Bill so as to protect Chrissie, that’s it, isn’t it?’

  There was a brief pause. ‘She wants to talk to you.’ Joe didn’t even bother to deny it.

  ‘She told you that, did she?’ Kate snapped. ‘What was it you just said, “Very cosy?”’

  Joe’s voice froze over. ‘Jesus, Kate. You can be such a hardfaced bitch at times.’

  Kate flinched. In all the years they had been together Joe had never resorted to insults.

  ‘I can’t understand why you had to tell Bill of all people,’ he continued.

  ‘You’re worried about what Bill will think of you, aren’t you?’

  Again Joe chose not to bite and instead said, ‘We can put this right but not if you go around making it public knowledge.’

  Kate shook her head in disbelief. Joe was afraid of what people might think, afraid that whatever justification he had come up with would not stand up to scrutiny once it was out in the daylight. She took a deep breath and said the thing that was right up in the front of her mind. The thing that had been haunting her for days. ‘I’m not sure that I want to put it right, Joe.’

  There was a deep dark silence on the end of the line and then Joe said, ‘Our relationship means so little to you, does it?’

  Kate was incredulous. ‘How the hell can you say that? You were the one who went off and fucked somebody else.’

  ‘I was deeply unhappy. You know that. It was a symptom, Kate, surely you can see that – it was no more than that, a symptom.’ He sounded deeply wounded.

  ‘A symptom? A symptom? Of what, for God’s sake?’

  ‘Depression, disillusion and all those things tha
t aren’t right between us. You don’t understand me, I don’t think you ever have. It’s always been me, me, me with you, Kate.’

  Kate nearly choked with hurt and outrage. ‘Which marriage have you been in? How dare you, Joe? I don’t think I want to talk to you. When things weren’t right I worked harder, listened more, and tried to support you while ignoring your bloody mood swings and excuses for not getting off your arse and getting a job. I didn’t go off and get myself laid. How would you feel now if this was the other way around?’

  ‘Oh right, that’s it turn it around, why don’t you? You’re always such a goodie fucking two shoes, aren’t you,’ he snapped and hung up a second before Kate had the chance to.

  ‘You bastard,’ she roared, full to the brim with fury and tears. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard.’ And without thinking, slung the phone across the garden as hard as she could. It bounced once, twice, narrowly missing the water feature, the battery pack flew out and buried itself in amongst the hostas while the handset landed plum in the middle of the herb bed.

  As she walked across to retrieve it Kate realised Maggie was sitting watching her from the kitchen window. She was still nibbling the last of the soft buttery crumbs of the toast crusts.

  ‘Anything you want to tell me?’ Maggie asked, as Kate pushed the kitchen door to.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Kate shook her head, laid the phone on the kitchen unit alongside her, and with her back to Maggie, plugged in the kettle. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else without resorting to the kind of language that you wouldn’t normally use in front of your mother.

  Wisely, Maggie said nothing.

  Once she had helped Maggie out onto the terrace Kate headed for the dining-room, dropped her re-assembled mobile phone in her briefcase and settled down to the day’s work.

  As she got to the table, Kate straightened her shirt, picked up her glasses – like the wardrobe into Narnia there was a place in her head where she could step, a gateway through into the businesslike frame of mind that was her saving grace.