There was a sudden banging on the wall, as neighbors on the other side of our semi protested our shouting.
‘See what you’ve done.’ His whisper loud enough for our neighbors to hear his admonishing tone.
‘No, see what you’ve done. We were fine until you joined the gym, Eddie. So what changed? Answer me that.’
‘I wanted to get fit and healthy.’
‘Yeah, Eddie, I got that. But why the fuck does it take three or four hours every night and all-day Saturday and sometimes Sunday?’
‘Would you mind not swearing,’ he said, face prim. ‘It’s vulgar.’
‘Get fucked, Eddie, you’ve been swearing, too. You’re still not answering the question.’
‘Remind me exactly what your question is.’
I gave him a long, steady look, took a few calming breaths and sat down. Eddie sat down, visibly subsiding.
‘Okay. Let’s start from the beginning,’ I said, composed. ‘We’re married but we spend less time together than before we were married. Would you agree?’
He paused, searching for words to contradict me. ‘Agreed.’
He could hardly disagree.
‘Alright, we agree on something.’ I did my level best to keep my voice neutral. ‘I’m not happy with the way you’re never here to be part of this marriage.’
‘I’m here on the weekends,’ he protested, but his face gave him away. His answer lacked conviction.
‘Eddie, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. You haven’t been here since whatever time you left this morning. I woke up at eight-thirty. I think six hours at the gym or wherever you were, is excessive. Don’t you agree?’
I thought it was beyond ridiculous, but I didn’t voice it.
He looked down at his hands. ‘I play squash after my workout, and then I have lunch with some of the trainers and the guys I’ve met at the gym. They’ve been talking to me about becoming a trainer.’ Defiant, he stuck his chin up. ‘I’m interested.’
That floored me. ‘Wha...?’ I spluttered. I shook my head to clear it. ‘What, you mean as a full-time job?’
‘I don’t know about that, but I could do weekends, especially as they’re short of trainers on the weekends.’
‘Oh my God.’ I sat there in utter disbelief. ‘Don’t you want to spend any time with me? What are you doing to us?’
‘Maybe you should think about what your behavior is doing to us, Rose. You’re not here in the evenings even though you’ve changed jobs.’
‘How would you even know that? You’re not here any night of the week, you hypocritical bastard.’ My voice rose to a shout again. Bugger the neighbors.
‘I needed to find something to do when you’re not here.’ He leaned in, face livid. ‘It’s your stupid job that started this in the first place.’
‘Eddie, before this new job I was here eleven out of twelve weekends and between two and three nights a week. You knew that before we got married, and it wasn’t a problem then.’
Waves of cold fury intensified.
‘How dare you say it’s my fault? I didn’t force you to go to the gym. We’ve already talked this over – you were going to be home early on the nights I’m home, but that’s not happened. Did you just pretend that’s what you’d do, to stop me asking you to be here? My hours are already settling down, so what’s wrong with going to the gym on the nights I have to be out for now, and being here when I am home? How hard would that be?’
‘Rose, I’m having fun. Why would you want me to stop?’
‘Well, I’m not having fun, we’re married for Christ’s sake. Can’t I have fun, too, with you? I don’t want you to stop going to the gym, but I can’t see why it takes up all evening every night of the week. We need time together and we’re not doing that.’
He was silent for a few minutes, digesting this. I kept my lips clamped, while he thought this through. Inside, my stomach was in knots, my mouth dry and I had the mother and father of all headaches. All caused by stress. Actually, all caused by Eddie. I relaxed my fingers one by one, untwisting them, still white-knuckled.
‘Okay, okay. I hear you.’ He finally spoke. ‘Here’s what I think could work. I still want to go to the gym every night, but how about I come home straight home after that on two or three nights? But I’ll tell you now, I don’t want to sit in front of the telly every night.’
‘Agreed.’ I looked at him cynically. We’d agreed to this before. ‘I don't watch TV anymore, but you’re not here to see that, are you?’ I reigned in my temper, not wanting to goad him, still fully aware of his reluctance to spend time with me. Our marriage was nothing short of a nightmare.
I stayed calm. ‘We can cook dinner together, catch up on each other’s news, plan outings and you can look at the holiday itinerary I’ve put together for Alaska. What do you say?’
‘The way we used to.’ He nodded, even smiled, but not with his eyes.
‘Yes,’ I said, eager to appease. ‘We’ve had fun together, haven’t we? I’ve also been looking at weekend getaway specials. Wouldn’t it be nice to go to Paris or Amsterdam? We loved Paris.’ I sounded impossibly bright and false. I heard it and cringed.
He nodded, but avoided my eyes. I‘d won a small victory. Small and virtually meaningless. For me it was like a death knell – Eddie wanted to become a fitness trainer, taking up any free time together on weekends. Ergo, he didn’t want to spend time with me, and I didn’t know why. He seemed to have no intention of telling me.
‘You haven’t forgotten my work conference in a fortnight, have you?’
Ah. I had forgotten. ‘Sorry, love.’ I was determined to remain affectionate. ‘I had. But it’s only three days, isn’t it?’
He shook his head. ‘Not this time. We’ve got some bigwigs coming over from America to run team training exercises. I’ll be gone for a week, including the weekend. Nine days in total. I told you, remember?’
Puzzled, I shook my head. I’d have remembered that.
‘Are you sure you told me?’
‘Of course, silly.’
Was I silly, or had he not told me? I don't usually forget details like that.
Whatever.
My heart sank to my toes. Yet again I’d be on my own. I couldn’t argue with work commitments.
It was hours before I fell asleep that night. We lay side by side for some time, pretending to be asleep, until Eddie’s light snore told me he’d drifted off. Following previous arguments, we made up, sometimes not even getting to the bedroom, tearing each other’s clothes off, giggling madly. This wasn’t one of those nights.
Would there ever be that enthusiasm again?
Did this happen to most married couples? Drifting apart, forgetting how and why they’d been frantically in love, wanting to spend every moment together, only to find that marriage, the routine of daily life, had killed the excitement. Had Eddie stopped loving me? I tried to think of the last time he’d told me he loved me. I felt sicker and sicker. The last time I could remember was just after our honeymoon.
Chapter Eight
Leaving work at the surgery was less painful than I’d expected. As Head of Practice, Dr Helen Foster, had watched with interest as I brought the expanded practice under control. Once all the pieces were in place, she called me into her office one evening.
‘Sit down, Rose.’ Her eyes were kind. ‘I want to thank you. You’ve done a marvelous job of setting up our new clinic. It’s a testament to your management skills and your dedication to the staff and patients here.’
‘Thank you.’ Unexpected tears misted my eyes. Nobody had said anything kind to me for so long I felt overwhelmed.
‘But you’re not happy.’ A statement, not a question.
A little splinter in my heart broke off and tears poured down my face.
‘Sorry, Helen.’ I shook my head. She handed me a box of tissues.
‘Tell me.’
I told her everything, pouring out my personal life, my work life and feelings of worthlessness.<
br />
She listened without comment until I stuttered to a stop.
‘My dear, you’re going through hell when you should be at your happiest.’ She leaned forward, elbows on her desk. ‘I won’t comment on Eddie, but your first year of marriage should be full of ups as well as downs. From what you’ve told me you’re not experiencing any ups, are you?’
Sorrowful, I shook my head.
‘It’s not my place to assess your husband’s behavior, but I can suggest this – it might be wise to see a marriage counsellor. You’re not happy, and from what you’ve said, there are many good reasons for your unhappiness.’
‘I feel such a failure.’
‘Come now. A failure is the last thing I’d say about you. You put your heart and soul into every task, and I’m certain that includes your marriage, so don’t even think you’re failing. As for this job, it simply isn’t the job for you, and although I’m very reluctant to let you go, you’re clearly much more suited to the world of hospital life and that’s where a nurse as dedicated as you should be working. How do you feel about going back to hospital nursing?’
I took a deep breath, calmness stealing through me. ‘I’d be much happier.’ My stomach, knotted for weeks, unknotted.
‘Well then, your path is clear, my dear. We’ll advertise tomorrow, but if you can go straight back to your old job, then I don’t expect you to stay and train your replacement. The clinic will almost run itself you’ve done such an excellent job.’ She patted my hand. ‘Go and find your happiness again and perhaps you’ll find your husband along the way.’
I drove home feeling fifty per cent better.
That night I told Eddie when I’d be returning to hospital work. Actually, since he wasn’t home, I left him a message on his mobile.
He didn’t respond for a couple of hours, by which time I was fast asleep. I discovered his text response the next morning after he’d already left for work, earlier than usual.
‘I think you made the right decision. I’m happy for you.’
That was all he said. No phone call during the day, no further texts. Nothing.
I drifted into a blank state after that, not even animated at the Friday night gatherings. Shona noticed my silence. I fielded her questions with assurances.
Eddie sat next to me, but made no effort to draw me out, to be like a husband who cared. Shona flicked shrewd glances our way, but made no attempt to engage us in banter. She and Martin exchanged uneasy looks. In fact, so did Tony and Lisa, so I guess our behavior was noticeable.
Bianca was absent. Much to my relief. She’d pick up on the deafening silence and insult me with barbed comments.
Her absence didn’t last.
She burst into the pub full of gleeful energy, dressed in a gorgeous red dress, her hair a sexy French braid down her back.
‘Guess what?’ With all eyes on her, she did a happy twirl. ‘I’ve bought a car! Come and look.’
We followed her out to the car park. An older model Mazda sat neatly parked. Scarlet. Of course. What other color would suit her so well?
She proudly showed off the features, chattering away, bubbling with excitement.
‘I didn’t know you could drive.’ This from Brigid.
‘My boyfriend’s been teaching me. I just got my license yesterday, and we went car shopping today.’ She clapped her hands, excited.
‘So, where is he? Why haven’t you brought him to meet us?’ A not unnatural question from Shona.
‘Oh, you know. He’s a bit shy. Besides, he’s just flown to Paris for a meeting tomorrow. You’ll meet him soon enough.’ She exchanged a sidelong glance with Lisa.
We trooped back inside while my mind turned over what she’d said. She’d been so mysterious and offhand about her boyfriend, yet he’d just helped her buy a car. Where was the mystery man?
‘Strange, don’t you think?’ Shona said, voice low, dropping down to sit with me.
‘Hm. Do you think he paid for her car?’ I murmured. ‘After all, she was never great at saving, was she?’
‘Good question.’ Shona scrutinized Bianca, still chattering animatedly to Tony and Lisa. ‘Although, I’m more interested in why she doesn’t introduce her man to us. Maybe he’s married and doesn’t want to be seen out and about with his mistress. What do you reckon?’
‘Do you really think she’d do that? Have an affair with someone else’s husband?’
Shona gave me a sardonic look. ‘This is Bianca we’re talking about. Right?’ She threw me a cynical smile. ‘Sure she would. This is the girl who stole anything that wasn’t screwed down, remember?’
I nodded, mind ticking over at a million miles an hour. Could it be someone we knew?
‘But it can’t be anyone we know, can it?’ Shona echoed my thoughts. ‘I mean, who has the dosh to cough up for a car? And let’s not forget the amazing makeover and the Prada bag. Those must have cost a whole lot more.’
I thought of Eddie’s savings for his motorbike, then stomped hard on the thought. He’d be mad to do that. Besides, I’d seen his savings account only a few days ago when working on our budget. No unusual activity. No, that was just ridiculous. He showed no more objectionable interest in her than that sudden impulse to have her over for dinner after her last boyfriend bailed on her. That had been, what…? Three, four months ago?
Although, given her willingness to bed all and sundry, Eddie had become too friendly for my comfort. But I’d seen no surreptitious glances, no meaningful looks, no accidental-on-purpose brushing up against each other. And while I could well imagine Bianca being a good enough actress to hide a whopper of a secret like that, I couldn’t see Eddie being that clever.
Nevertheless, feeling sly, I resolved to check his bank accounts again. No-one need know.
On Sunday evening Eddie drove to Brighton for his week-long conference. On the Monday night, feeling furtive and ashamed, I searched his bank accounts online. Nothing different, nothing new, except a smaller fortnightly sum paid into his motorbike savings account. Which explained how he paid for his gym meals.
Chapter Nine
Eddie returned from Brighton tired and cranky the following Sunday evening.
‘The conference was boring, so don’t ask,’ he said, chucking his suitcase on the bed.
‘Well, hello to you, too.’ I perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Did you take walks on the pier and look at galleries?’ I tried a bright smile, hoping for recognition as his wife.
‘No, none of that.’ He threw me a jaded look. ‘We worked hard on team-building and had a few drinks in the bar at night. Nothing interesting. What have you been up to?’
‘Working and gardening. Reading. Nothing interesting. I’ve picked our apples, and dug up new potatoes and the usual....’ I petered out.
He wasn’t listening.
‘You don’t seem pleased to be home,’ I said, tone tentative. I didn’t want to engage in a shouting match. ‘We haven’t spoken since you left, is everything okay?’
‘I phoned you last week,’ he said, eyes indifferent.
‘Once, for a few minutes. You used to call me every day during last year’s conference.’ I kept my tone mild, non-accusative. Why couldn’t be bothered? Would he care if I did the same?
And if he’d really lost interest, would it be because of my weight gain? Could he really find me so unappealing? So many questions and no answers. At least, none I wanted to face. I knew he’d just roll his eyes if I told him I’d lost half a stone in the last month. He wouldn’t have noticed.
‘You must be joking! I didn’t have time to call you every day. The American team took up all our time. They’re really in your face. No time for a personal life.’
I didn’t believe him. There’s always time to have a five-minute conversation with your lover. Little more than a year together and he’d lost interest. Did I need to change something to make him interested? Did I care enough? My self-esteem hit the floor. There was not one thing I enjoyed right now. Me and my boring life we
ren’t worth his time.
Something had to change.
I wondered if Lisa had heard from Tony, he always made an effort to keep her up to date when he’s away. To tell her he loves her. I’ve always believed their marriage to be pretty solid.
Maybe I didn’t know them well enough to think otherwise.
With Eddie and Tony away, I’d missed the Friday pub night get-together, too tired to go alone. Shona and Martin had dinner plans with her parents, and Brigid had worked that evening. I stayed home and read a book, not interested in low-scale social warfare with Bianca and Lisa. Lisa who’d taken sides with my frenemy against me. Why? I had no idea.
Was it my fault?
Maybe. But all of it? I didn’t think so.
A week later, on a halcyon, summer-like day in October, the weather put on a last-ditch performance before surrendering to autumn. Eddie and I rocked up to Tony and Lisa’s home for a rare dinner party. I say rare, because Lisa freely admits she’s a rotten cook and that her best efforts come out of jars and tins or the freezer section of Waitrose.
‘What do you think she’ll cook?’ I said, tone light and amused, as we pulled up outside their house. ‘Another lasagna from the supermarket?’
‘Whatever it is, we’ll eat it and be grateful,’ he snapped. ‘They’re good friends and we shouldn’t knock them behind their backs.’
‘I wasn’t. Since when did it become verboten to recognize what Lisa freely acknowledges? She a reluctant cook. Why shouldn’t I agree with her? We’ll still enjoy the evening, so get your knickers unknotted, Eddie Gallagher.’
He went to climb out of the car without a word, but I wasn’t having that. We’d spend the evening avoiding each other if we went inside without sorting out this minor grievance.
‘Hey, don’t get out, Eddie. A show of married bliss is needed right here and now. We can’t go in like this.’
Promises Made- Promises Kept Page 13
