by Pam Rhodes
“And she still finds enough puff to work in the garden here! I’m exhausted just thinking about all she does…”
“He’s off!” said Claire, as she came down the last few stairs to join them in the living room.
“Well, so am I,” said Neil. “This has been an unexpected but really delightful end to the day. Thank you, both of you.”
“I’ll show you out.”
Neil checked he’d got everything, then, waving to Harry, he followed Claire out towards the front door. He turned to face her as he stepped outside.
“Your garden is lovely.”
“You’re a pretty good loser at Snap.”
“I’m sorry about when we met before…”
“You were a git.”
He grinned sheepishly.
“I was – but I honestly didn’t mean to be. Do you think we could start again?”
They looked at each other silently for a moment, neither of them sure how to continue.
“Well,” she said finally as she stretched out her hand towards his. “Hello, Neil Fisher. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Claire,” he replied, taking her hand, his gaze fixed on her pale-green eyes. “It’s good to meet you too.”
“See you, then,” she said.
“See you….”
And as he turned away, Neil didn’t realize that the smile creeping across his face exactly matched Claire’s own.
CHAPTER 6
“Neil, mate, I need a favour.”
Graham’s voice was unmistakable, even through Neil’s rather elderly mobile phone.
“Ask away! What do you need?”
“You’re not free tonight, are you?”
“Could be. The Wheatsheaf?”
“That’ll be great. I’ve got something I want to show you. I’ll bring my laptop.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“I’m doing something. Well, I’ve done it really, and now I have, I’m not sure I should’ve.”
“Is it you who’s confusing – or me that’s confused?” asked Neil.
“Look, I teach maths to over a thousand spotty teenagers every week. Of course I’m confused!”
“Point taken. Eight o’clock OK?
The offer was cut short by Graham’s voice booming so loudly that Neil had to hold the phone away from his ear.
“Richard Robinson! Pick that up!”
There was the sound of movement and a muffled response from someone, presumably the boy in question.
“I don’t care!” was Graham’s bellowing reply. “Don’t drop litter – and don’t be where you shouldn’t be when the bell’s gone! Where’s your next class?”
Another muffled response.
“Well, you’re late! Get going now!”
Neil could hear footsteps pounding away from the phone.
“Eight’s fine,” said Graham, his voice now absolutely normal.
Neil chuckled. “Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you. You’re terrifying!”
“No, I’m not. I’m a big wimp. That’s why I need a bit of encouragement and advice from a good and truthful mate this evening. Right?”
“Right!”
“Just come when you’re ready. Hang on…”
His voice shot up several decibels again. “The Art Room is that way. I’m watching you!”
Neil clutched the phone for a moment in stunned silence – then, in the most friendly of tones, Graham’s voice returned.
“See you tonight then! Bye!”
And the phone went dead.
Neil still had a grin on his face remembering that conversation as he headed through the churchyard on his way to the hall. After two months in Dunbridge, it was a relief to realize just how familiar the town was beginning to feel to him. His arrival at the end of July had been at the start of the holidays, so he had immediately been thrown into a heady mix of responsibilities which ranged from manning the Wet Sponge stall at St Stephen’s “Grand Summer Fete” (and even ending up being the target for a soggy throw or two); arranging an OAPs’ summer tea party (although, to be fair, Wendy from the music group had been an immense help in organizing that, and she’d been very generous with her time when it came to the two of them getting together to plan everything so that the party was a great success on the day); helping out at several of the weddings which were a feature of practically every weekend; taking funeral services at the nearby crematorium (well, to be fair, he had only just started to take them on his own, because previously he had always been there to observe and help Margaret so that he could learn the ropes); and dodging Glenda Fellowes, because Neil always felt she stood too close and hugged him too tight for comfort whenever she had the opportunity, much to his acute embarrassment.
How quickly the weeks had flown! He had arrived when the gardens and churchyard were full of summer colour. Now, even he, who knew nothing about plants and gardening, could see the gold and red hues which were creeping across bushes and trees wherever he looked.
The playgroup was in full swing as Neil stepped into the hall which echoed with the deafening sound of excited children and commanding adults. Across on the other side of the room, he could see Sam busily playing with a group of small friends in the Wendy house. Claire was nowhere in sight. Well, she wouldn’t be, not on a bright Autumn day. She’d be out in her wellies, digging someone’s garden.
Barbara caught Neil’s eye the moment he walked across the hall, indicating that she’d like a chat. She guided him through to the kitchen where two of the mums were preparing brightly coloured cups of squash and plates of apple slices and grapes for the children’s “elevensies”.
“Just wanted a quiet word,” she said, pulling him to one side of the open hatch through which they could look out on to the hall without really being seen themselves.
“You see over there in the corner, in the boots and brown jacket? Linda? Do you know her?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Neil thoughtfully. “Is she new?”
“She’s been quite a few times before, but not on a regular basis. She’s got twin boys, Nathan and Jake. They’re playing in the sandpit.”
“I see them.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to do a bit of your pastoral stuff in her direction. Keep it subtle, because I don’t know her that well and I’m not sure if she’s got any religious beliefs or anything. I just happen to know she’s going through a tough patch and could probably do with a good listener.”
“Can you give me a clue?”
“Husband trouble, so I’ve heard.”
“Aah,” said Neil, thinking he was hardly the best advisor on how to be a good husband. “I’ll do my best.”
Grabbing himself a cup of coffee, Neil worked his way round the edge of the hall, chatting to helpers, mums, and a few of the youngsters on the way, until at last he found himself standing alongside Linda, who was half perched on a table, keeping a watchful eye on Nathan and Jake playing in the sandpit a few feet away.
“Twins! I bet they’re a handful!”
Linda looked round at Neil, obviously surprised that he should be speaking to her when they didn’t know each other. He smiled.
“I’m Neil, the curate here. I think the vicar thinks it’s character-building for me to help out at this playgroup at least once a week. In fact, it may be enough to put me off fatherhood forever!”
She laughed.
“And what does your wife think about that?”
“Heavens! Do I look married? I always thought I seem far too scruffy and disorganized for that.”
“No sign of Miss Right just yet, then?”
“Well, I’ve not noticed anyone beating a path to my door.”
Neil watched as the smile which initially lit up her face faded with sadness.
“That may be just as well.”
“What makes you say that?” he asked gently.
She looked directly at him for a second or two, as if weighing up in her mind whether or not to
continue the conversation. Then she turned to gaze at her boys before speaking.
“Marriage isn’t always what you imagine it will be.”
“That sounds like the voice of experience. Have you been married long?” Neil asked.
“Seven years now – and I’d known John for three years before that.”
“You two must have your hands full with two lively boys to look after.”
“You can say that again. I love it, though. When Jake and Nathan came along, I felt complete, as if by being born they made me what I was meant to be – a mum.”
“And does John enjoy being a dad too?”
“It’s different for men, isn’t it? John works long hours. He’s a civil engineer, and his company has several bases around the country. He can be away all week sometimes.”
“That must be tough for you. Never getting a break from looking after the boys – and however much you love them, I guess that sometimes you just need a breather.”
His words must have hit home because she turned towards him as if anxious to continue talking.
“I do! John doesn’t understand that. He thinks because I’m at home all day with just the boys to look after, life must be a doddle for me. He gets quite annoyed if I say I’m tired, or try to tell him how the kids have been driving me mad.” She sighed. “It’s not that I’m moaning, because I do love being a mum – but I’m on my own with them so much, I sometimes don’t speak to another grown-up all day. I’ve even started to wonder if I’m capable of having a conversation with anyone over the age of three!”
“You are,” he chuckled. “I’ll vouch for that!
“And…” She hesitated before going on, as if considering how much she should say.
“And,” she said at last, “It’s not all work for him when he’s away. He stays in nice hotels, has lovely meals that the company pays for – and often he’s not alone…”
“He travels with colleagues, does he?”
“Well, I suppose a colleague is one way to describe her. He says she’s his PA – although I never knew the duties of a PA were supposed to include tucking her boss up at night…”
“Oh.” Uncertain whether she would say more, Neil waited quietly for her to continue.
“I’ve never been the jealous sort – never thought I needed to be suspicious – but I came across a hotel receipt in his pocket when he asked me to take his suit to the cleaners. The room was in his name, but it was a double room with two people in it.”
“And it couldn’t have been someone else? A male colleague he was working with?”
“Not when they were booked in as Mr and Mrs!”
“No, I see your point. Did you challenge him about it? What did he say?”
“Not a lot at first. He shouted at me that I had no right to go snooping in his pockets – and honestly, I wasn’t. I had no idea there was anything to find. Then he said it was just a one-night stand. It meant nothing, just someone he met up there and would never see again – as if I was supposed to think that made it OK! He was full of apology, said it was a mistake, that he loved me and the kids, and he’d make it up to us…”
“And did he?”
“Actually, the only thing he was making up was his story as he went along. It wasn’t a one-night stand at all. And he wasn’t with someone he’d just met by chance. I hate myself for it, but for the first time in my life, I found myself checking up on him.”
“Well, no one would blame you for that.”
“I went through his briefcase, read his emails, listened to his phone messages – and eventually I found it all there. Messages from her that left no doubt about their relationship. I was able to hate her – and only her – for the family-wrecker she is, until I came across the messages he’d sent her! He was so sure of himself, and of me, that he didn’t even bother to delete them. It wasn’t her who wrecked our marriage. It was him.”
“Who is she? Are they still working together?”
“Her name is Trish. She started work in his department just over a year ago, and apparently they’ve been carrying on since the drunken kiss they had at the office party last Christmas. Didn’t take her long to get her claws into him, did it!”
“So where does that leave you?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him.
“Leaving him – or at least that was my first thought. The second was that it shouldn’t be me who leaves, because the boys need the security of our home, so if anyone moves out, it’s got to be him.”
“Does that mean he’s still living at home with you at the moment?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s still involved with the other woman?”
She gave a wry smile.
“No, I don’t think he is.”
“And how do you feel about him in the light of that?”
“I’d probably feel better if it were John who’d made the decision for them to break up – but it didn’t happen that way. Trish disappeared very quickly when she found out about what else is going on with him at the moment.”
Neil noticed that Linda had been picking absent-mindedly at a loose bit of skin on her thumb until it started to bleed.
“He’s ill.” Her voice was so low, he wondered if he’d heard right.
“Seriously ill. It started as a bruise at the top of his arm that wouldn’t go away. Then another just like it appeared near his hip.”
She scraped her fingers under both eyes to brush away the tears which threatened to roll down her cheeks.
“It’s cancer of the bone. He’s only thirty-five – and he’s got cancer in his bones.”
“But he’s still a young man. Surely they can do something…?”
“They say it’s early days. He only got the diagnosis a fortnight ago. He’s had one set of scans and they’re talking about others.”
“Is he feeling very unwell?”
She looked at him.
“Honestly, I think he’s felt unwell for months. I just put it down to exhaustion because he was travelling all the time. He was always tired, always stressed. When I found out about the affair, I gave up feeling sorry for him because I really couldn’t care less that he’d probably just worn himself out trying to keep his sordid little relationship secret. But now he’s got cancer. Now everything seems different again. Now I don’t know what I feel or think…”
“What’s his reaction to the news?”
“He’s scared, really scared. The other night he cried in my arms like a baby. He’s terrified he’s going to die. He’s been reading up as much as he can on the internet, and he’s certain that he’s in for a lot of pain and treatment which will leave him old before his time, and eventually kill him.”
“It sounds as if he’s going to need a lot of help and care.”
“Yes.” Her voice had a bitter edge to it. “And I’m his wife. People will expect me to provide all the care he needs.”
“Whatever other people think, it’s how you and John feel that matters.”
“What I feel is cheated. Cheated by the man I loved and trusted, and who let me and his sons down without a thought for us at all. Now he’s ill. Now he needs me. Now he’s begging me not to break up the marriage – as if it’s my fault we’ve got to this point, and it’s nothing to do with him having an affair at all. How dare he try to make it my fault?”
She fell silent, picking angrily at her thumb.
Neil mulled over his thoughts for a while before saying, “I suppose there is one really important question you need to answer before you can decide anything. Do you still love him?”
“Am I in love with him? No. I never will be again. That’s gone, along with any trust I ever had in him. But do I still feel some sort of love for him?” She thought for a while. “Yes, I probably do. Is that enough for me to stay with him, knowing what lies ahead? Honestly, I’m not sure. I really don’t know if I can nurse him through this, and put the kids through it too, after all that’s happened. He took a sledgehammer to my f
eelings. He didn’t care about me when there was someone more exciting around. Now he’s ill, he’s suddenly declaring deepest love for me. I don’t think it’s love he feels for me though. It’s need. He needs me. He knows that I’ll have to find a lot of love for him if I’m to give him the care he needs, and he’s scared I’ll walk out on him and leave him to deal with his illness alone.”
“And will you?”
“I wish I knew. What I do find myself remembering is that we got married in church. That seemed important to both of us at the time.”
“Because of the vows you were making?”
“I certainly thought so – but he seemed to forget his promises soon enough when Trish laid it on a plate for him.”
“But what about you? How do you feel about those vows you made on the day you married him?”
“Where in the marriage vows does it say anything about sticking with your husband when he’s a cheating, selfish adulterer? He chose to have an affair, so surely that allows me a choice too? If he wasn’t sticking to his promises, then why should I?”
“But in those vows, you also promised to stand by your husband in sickness and in health…”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it? I did promise that – and I can’t see that I have any choice but to keep that promise, because he didn’t have a choice about getting cancer.”
“And what are you most scared of? Is it your lack of feeling, or your lack of confidence that you’ll be able to cope?”
“Both, if I’m honest. On all levels, I’m terrified I’m going to make a mess of things.”
At that moment, Nathan came over to ask his Mum to help him put together a cart-and-horse toy he’d been struggling with. Her face was full of love as she looked down at her son, chatting softly to him before running her fingers through his hair and sending him happily on his way back to the sandpit.
“Tell me,” Neil began again, “did you want to get married in church because you felt that God was part of the contract you were making – that you were inviting God to be a constant presence in your marriage?”
