Beyond the Realms

by Gill Mather

  Now Orielle was really confused!

  "No he wasn't," cried Greg. "He used to come to me when you weren't there." Sniff.

  "Oh! Don't give me that! You always say that! I never saw that happen, ever!"

  "He did!" Greg was squeezing out tears now. "And you didn’t tell me he was dying!" He gave an especially loud sniff.

  "There was nothing we could do. You know you were in Barbados with…her at the time. What good would it have done to have informed you?"

  "Yes but…I loved that cat!" sobbed Greg rather theatrically.

  Alison looked on benignly. Orielle realised that this was a scene that must have been previously often played out between the couple.

  "Oh my God!" Sass looked honestly disgusted. "You can see what he's like!"

  There was nothing on Alison's flow chart pinned to the board behind her. Not one thing had been agreed between the couple. No advances had been made. No concessions, no financial arrangements had been discussed in any detail at all.

  At last Alison spoke.

  "Is there anything else either of you would like to contribute? Any suggestions about the house, or the assets?"

  The couple were silent.

  "Are the girls OK?"

  "Yes thanks," they both said more or less at once.

  "So. Hour's up I think. Are we done then?" Alison said. They both nodded.

  "Well perhaps before our next session, you could meet up and talk about what to do regarding the house or any other aspects. That is, if you can."

  Greg and Sass said goodbye and left. Alison spoke her words as she made a short note.

  "The parties made no significant progress with financial matters. Greg continues to have contact with the children of the family and support the wife. It is to be hoped that in time they will reach a financial settlement or possibly reconcile."

  "I thought we weren't supposed to say ‘the parties’ or talk about ‘contact’ and so on any more," said Orielle.

  "Oh stuff it," said Alison. "That's just PC being foisted on us. Within these four walls, I'll call these things what I like. Especially for that pair. I reckon they will get back together again anyway. Well, that's the easiest two hundred quid I've earned this week. I'll make up for it tomorrow though. I've got a pig of a child case tomorrow. Pity you can't come and watch but with Anton still away, you'll have to stay back and deal with the conveyancing. I hear you're managing Pinky and Perky OK. That's quite an achievement!"

  CHAPTER 13

  HER TIME AT PWT was over and she was actually enjoying being back at The Chambers. She hoped that if she went back to PWT, that next time she would work under Alison the family partner perhaps or in the personal injury department. Anything but probate, trusts and conveyancing.

  Towards the end of February, Amanda and Hugh announced that they were going to have a baby, though people had rather started to guess by now. They had a little party at their house and Orielle and Cathy went together. Orielle drove herself and Cathy there. Cathy couldn't remember the way. She hadn’t visited much lately she said despite Amanda being her best friend. It was well off the beaten track and they got lost several times. Orielle found the cottage charming when they got there, somehow very Hugh-like.

  “He had it before he was with Ali,” said Cathy. On the way, she had shown Orielle The Old Lodge where Amanda had lived with Graham. The foliage between the house and the road had been cut back recently so it was possible to see the house.

  “Wow! It’s quite grand isn't it,” said Orielle.

  “Yes and she still owns it. But she doesn’t want to ever go there,” Cathy told Orielle. “Too many memories. It’s let out.”

  FOR THE LAST FEW days, Orielle had noticed that Hugh, always remote with Orielle at the best of times, had been even more pre-occupied. He seemed frankly worried which wasn’t like him. At the party, Cathy was circulating like mad, or at least she was energetically doing the rounds of the young and not so young barristers who worked for Hugh. So Orielle was left quite a lot of the time to contemplate her surroundings and half way through, she found herself in the kitchen just as most of the people who had congregated in it for the past thirty minutes were moving like a flock of starlings suddenly without any apparent orchestration as happens sometimes back to the sitting room. And as they cleared, Orielle found herself there in the room with just Hugh and she looked around for an escape route. Hugh was savagely hacking a block of ice into smaller pieces and didn’t notice her at first. “Fucking stuff,” he was saying still not noticing her and Orielle was at least a little astonished. She had never associated him with profanities. He always seemed to be on his best behaviour with her. Or at least he never let his guard down around her. Just as she was trying to slink quietly out of the room, he suddenly turned and, seeing her, went a little red.

  “Oh sorry Orielle. I didn’t realise you were there,” he said, putting down the ice pick and shovelling the bits into an ice bucket.

  “It’s all right. I have two older brothers back at home you know. And cousins here in Colchester who behave like animals. You’d have a job shocking me actually.”

  “Yeah. I suppose so.” Hugh smiled charmingly down at her and for a moment she saw what other women must see in him. So, warmed by his apparently more open attitude, she ventured:

  “I’ve noticed in the last few days you have something worrying you. If it’s work, a case maybe, is it anything I can help with?”

  “No it’s not work.” Hugh passed his hand over his forehead and frowned.

  “I hope everything’s OK with the baby.”

  “Oh yes. It’s not that. Well I suppose actually it’s got something to do with it.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn't have pried.”

  “No. No. It’s kind of you to ask. I….um….I just saw someone from my past the other day. Someone who made a great deal of trouble for me before and seems set to try to do so again.”

  “Actually I know about Ali Hugh. And that somehow or other I remind you of her. I just wanted to say that….well I don't try to and I wish I didn't. I thought if I said something, it might clear the air.”

  “Of course you’re right. It needed saying. Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I’ll try not to be.” Hugh nodded to himself as if to reinforce to himself what he was saying. “Anyway, this latest thing isn't exactly directly about her. At least not now. There’s someone who used to work for me. She made a monumental effort to upset my marriage to Ali and sadly she succeeded. And now she’s on the scene again trying to do the same thing with Amanda and since that didn't work, she’s threatened to do harm to my children. Ali and I had, have, two children.”

  “Yes I know.”

  “Goodness. You have been doing your homework.” Hugh smiled crookedly. “Cathy I assume. She’s the most terrible gossip. I should have known when you went to work at PWT. Well, it means I’ll have to talk to Ali and then probably go to the police because this girl’s a complete nutter and I can't risk her doing something to the kids. I’m not looking forward to meeting Ali. Not at all.”

  “How awful Hugh. If there’s anything I can do to help, just say.”

  “Well for the time being could you not say anything to anyone. Especially not the garrulous Cathy. I’ve no idea how it’ll all turn out. I just hope it’s idle threats and it’ll all blow over, but unfortunately from past experience, I don't think she’ll let it drop. This girl. Not now she knows Amanda’s pregnant.” Hugh stopped but seeing Orielle’s puzzled expression he finished, “This girl was working at the hospital when we went for the scan and she saw me. And she’ll have access to our records. Within a few days she was trying to make trouble with Amanda and then she was outside the office one evening accosting me and making these threats.”

  “Couldn't you complain to the hospital then? If she’s abusing information that comes to her in the course of her employment, wouldn't they discipline her or something.”

  “Maybe. But this girl, she’s full of hatred over somethi
ng that happened ages ago that she thinks I’m responsible for. If I got her sacked or suspended, it might just make her worse. Honestly Orielle, her mind’s completely warped. I’ve no more idea how to deal with her now than I did four years ago.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with all this. I’m not sure why I did really. I’m just so desperately worried about it, I can't stop thinking about it.”

  “Well thanks for trusting me. If I think of anything, I’ll tell you,” she said quickly as people started to gravitate back to the kitchen. “I’ll take the ice through shall I?”

  As she walked slowly back to the sitting room, Orielle wondered absently how it could have been that some girl or other had actually managed to split up a solid marriage, if that’s what it had been. Had Hugh been unfaithful maybe? He didn't really seem the type. She could perhaps ask Triss if he knew anything about it, as he seemed to know so much about everything. If he ever returned to her.

  Hugh watched her go but felt that very little air had been cleared for him at least. It was embedded in him now. She would forever evoke for him memories of Ali and of that impossibly wonderfully poignant time all those years ago.

  Lurking at the back of his mind was the riddle of how she could possibly have known at all that she reminded him of Ali but this impression had to be brushed swiftly aside as always did any thoughts he had connected with Ali. He would shut his mind to the forthcoming meeting with Ali until it was actually upon him.

  A WEEK OR SO AFTER the baby-to-be celebration party, arriving home from a shopping trip, Georgie found Orielle curled up with a book in the sitting room.

  “You can hardly see. It’s getting dark. You need to get out and…do something. Are you going to stay in moping for the rest of the winter or what?”

  “Yes if necessary.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. Mark my words. He’ll be back. Whatever he is, or wherever he comes from, he’s like any other man. He won't be able to resist getting his leg over again.”

  Weak early March mid-afternoon sunshine was coming from the kitchen window through into the sitting room. Just about enough to read by.

  A shadow fell over the carpet between them. They both looked up and there was Tristram filling the doorway, the stubble on his chin forming more of a beard, his clothing dishevelled.

  “Triss!” said Orielle plaintively.

  “Hello Orielle. The back door was unlocked. She was right. I’ve come back to have sex with you.”

  Georgie rolled her eyes and walked out shaking her head.

  Tristram came and sat down beside Orielle who was looking down at the book but not seeing the words.

  “Aren’t you pleased that I’ve come back?”

  “You’ve just come back for sex. That’s what you said.”

  “Yes. I thought that’s what you wanted. Wasn't it? What’s the matter?”

  “I mean. Isn’t there anything else? Just sex?”

  “But you were upset when I said I didn't want to do it again.”

  “What about feelings though? Emotions. Don’t you have any feelings for me at all? Is it just sex you want?”

  “I don't want sex no. I’ll have to put up with it. I’m driven to do it. It’s this wretched body making me.”

  “You’re….impossible,” she said looking away.

  “Clearly not but….if by feelings you mean the pleasure centres of the brain, the endorphin-producing glands, able to bring about the impression of well-being and analgesia, then yes of course I experienced such feelings. They may be mistaken for love, in your terms and …”

  “Stop saying that. It’s ridiculous.”

  “I told you I didn't expect copulation to be so…full of feeling for want of a better description. Where I come from, there’s no embodiment, therefore such excesses are impossible. Without a pituitary gland, no physical brain, it’s just not possible to…”

  He stopped. She had screwed up her eyes and was pursing her lips. Her fists were clenched. She had thought that before he left he’d made some progress towards more normal behaviour, however he seemed to have reverted to his original awkwardness after two months on the streets. Impossible!

  “No physical brain you’re telling me. Will you stop coming out with all this crap. It’s bullshit and you know it. What do you think I am? Totally naive? Completely credulous? I must be to have gone along with these mind-numbingly atrociously ridiculous utterings of yours for the three months before you left.”

  “You’re exhibiting aggression. Intercourse is contra-indicated.”

  “Oh. Sod off,” she said and went out into the kitchen. She hunted about a bit for her secret stash of ciggies, kept for over a year ready for when needed to cope with just such a situation and hidden away in the kitchen when she first moved in. She put one of the gas rings on and lit one from that, picked an old coat from the pegs near the back door, shoved her feet into wellington boots and went out and sat on a patio chair in the semi-darkness.

  She knew Triss was watching her out of the sitting room window. Well sod him. She couldn't go on hankering after someone with so little social grace who couldn't care less whom he offended or upset. She would concentrate on her career and forget all about him. He didn't even want to be here. It was a complete dead loss. A hiding to nothing. A flogging of a dead horse. A write off. A hopeless case. A canoe without a paddle. A….

  Tristram was coming out of the back door. He came and stood near her then pulled up a chair and sat beside her looking at her pulling on the cigarette.

  “You shouldn't do that you know. It’ll damage you. And it’ll make you smell horrible.”

  Orielle didn't reply.

  “I came back to see you.”

  “Well you’ve seen me.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes to have sex with me. You said so.”

  “But it’s what you wanted. I’m doing what you wanted. I’m here for you.”

  “Here for me.” She looked at him bleakly. “But you don't even want to be here at all. You’re going to keep trying to go back to wherever it is you came from.”

  “I doubt if it’ll be possible. I don't think it’s been done before.”

  “Well that’s such a comfort!”

  “Can I put my arms around you. I’ve missed you. Wanted you. I had a shower at a drop in centre especially for you.”

  She sighed. “I suppose so. I wish I wasn't such a weak willed worm of a person who gives in at the slightest provocation. I ought to be strong.”

  “But you are strong. You survive very well in this horrible violent greedy uncomfortable world you live in. Far better than I can.”

  “Oh Triss.” She rested her head on his shoulder and he held her and stroked her head. “I’ve been desperate without you.”

  “You’re beautiful. Beautiful golden girl. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, or experienced. In this world or mine.”

  “Triss. I love you.”

  “I expect I love you too. In your terms.”

  “I won't kick you for saying that.”

  “Violence would probably mean sex was contra-indicated yes?”

  “Not for some people. But for us, yes I think it would be.”

  “I can already feel the changes,” he said looking at her intently. “The breathing, the blood rushing to extremities, the surge of adrenaline. Our bodies seem to be designed to want to have sex. So every time I come anywhere near you, I’m going to want to have sex with you from now on I suppose. I’ll never be complete without you. It feels very nice indeed but also very unsettling.”

  “We have to control it in public anyway.”

  “I assume having sex in public could lead to trouble, like going naked in public.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “I understand that it’s necessary for me to wait for you to have your crisis before I have mine. That’s right isn't it?” he whispered in her ear.

  �
��Crisis! You’ve been reading Victorian pornography or something. You must have been at the university or the library again. That’s not what we usually call it.”

  “To me the word eminently describes the experience. I’ve started to understand why you people use expletives. And achieving it is something special for you isn't it?” He nuzzled her hair and started to massage her breast.

  “Very much so,” she said softly.

  “You had yours the last time didn't you. It should make us bond. In your…..no all right. I’ll stop saying that. Orielle. I don't think I can wait much longer. Can we go upstairs to your room?”

  Orielle noticed that her cigarette had burned down to the filter without her having taken another pull on it. Throwing it down, she stubbed it out and left it there on the patio. It’d give Georgie something to moan about to deflect her from complaining about Triss having returned.

  THE SUNDAY PROMISED to be a lovely sunny day. They had just finished making love for the third time since the previous evening. Tristram had told her he loved her a hundred times since coming back last night. The love-making was simply spectacular. Infused with extra qualities she’d never felt before, it took her breath away. A golden haze seemed to enter her brain and fog it up. Threads of pure pleasure and exquisite sensation seemed to emanate from him into every part of her. She thought: He’s the one. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Forsaking all others. I don't care about the odd behaviour or lack of a job or money.

  He put his hand up and stroked her head. For the first time she noticed that his left forearm was bandaged.

  “Triss. What happened to you?”

  “I was attacked on the street one night. Some people came out of a club drunk. One of them tried to stab me and just caught my arm here. Another one punched me in the face and gave me a black eye and swollen lip. They took me by surprise so I couldn't….talk to them or anything. I had to wait for my face to get a bit better before coming back here. And look.” He pulled down his bottom lip and she saw that his eye tooth had been chipped.

  “What about your arm? Where did you get it bandaged?”