The Last Year of Being Single

by Sarah Tucker

  Katrina—‘I know—I know. But I’m thinking of Gerry, Sarah. This is so unfair on him. Why do we bring children into this world if marriage becomes so throwaway? So cheap? So disposable? Well, this one didn’t work, let’s try again—there is only one life. You know what he said? You know when the Twin Towers came down in New York? It made him re-evaluate his life and made him think about everything, what he wanted in life, and he woke up one morning and looked at me and thought, I’m not happy. I’m not happy with you and I’m not happy with this life and I want out. I want out. That’s what he said to me, Sarah. And he said it’s taken him this long to do something about it.’

  Sarah—‘No, Katrina. It’s taken another woman for him to find the balls to do something about it. Men—not saying all, just most—only have the balls to go when there is another woman involved. Especially those who’ve been so close to their mummies. They need another carer in their lives. They can’t be by themselves. They need someone. Not necessarily to do their ironing and cooking and cleaning, but to say they are wonderful and number one and the best. And with marriage you have to work on that. And when you had Gerry—well, Henry became number two, and that happens in lots of marriages and you felt it too; that’s why you had the affair. And you had it for a reason, right?’

  Katrina—‘Yes, I was unhappy. And it was exciting. I don’t know if you would understand, Sarah, because you have such a wonderful relationship with Paul, and it’s so perfect, and I’m very happy for you, and don’t know if I should be sharing this with you right now, but I need to speak to someone and feel that you’ll understand coz you’re not conventional and you’re marrying—well, you’re marrying quite a conventional guy, really. And, well, just be careful. Just be careful.’

  Methinks, Is this a message from God, or something? Do things just fall into your lap to teach you a lesson and you ignore them at your own cost? Here was Katrina, utterly distraught, with a gorgeous house and home and little boy and a seemingly lovely marriage and it was a complete sham. And she didn’t want to divorce him and wanted to stay and work at it for the sake of Gerry, but Henry wasn’t having it any more coz he’d gone off with a trog-bitch-from-hell, according to Katrina—who was painting her smaller by the minute.

  By the time Catherine arrived I imagined her as this incredible shrinking woman who lived in a doll’s house.

  Catherine—‘Sorry I’m late. Had trouble with the car.’ Aside to me, ‘Bastard Liam. Wants to get back together, but won’t. Well, want to, but won’t.’ To Katrina again, ‘I’ve got you a very good solicitor. Specialises in divorce law and was great with my sister. Go and see her. I’ve contacted my sister already and told her the story and she says that she’ll fix up an appointment for you tomorrow. It will help. She will be able to tell you what to do. It will help. She can deal with the financial side of it. Henry is money-orientated, and if he’s reachable it’s through his money. You’re not just thinking about yourself now, Katrina. You’re thinking about Gerry and his welfare. The new girlfriend—’ (methinks of doll’s house again) ‘—may want children and will put hers first. So you’ve got to get as much security for yourself and Gerry as possible. Think about it.’

  We stayed there for another couple of hours. Katrina was nervous Henry would walk through the door any moment, but I said he wouldn’t. I had the instinct he’d stay out with his Pippa doll that night. They were due to come to the wedding, and I told Katrina that she still could if she wanted to. She said that Henry had said they should go just to show face. But then he had started to introduce the girlfriend as his new partner so that might prove awkward. But that they should be grown up about things.

  Sarah—‘Grown up? What the fuck does he know about being grown up? If ever there was a little boy with broken-toy-and-want-a-new-one-scenario it’s this one. Wanker. Do you want us to stay the night? We can. I can.’

  Katrina—‘You have a wedding to get ready for.’

  Sarah—‘This is important, and I don’t think you should be by yourself tonight.’

  Katrina—‘No, Sarah, I’m fine. If I need anything I will call.’

  Sarah—‘Promise?’

  Katrina—‘I promise.’

  Sarah—‘OK. But you promise to call? You can call at any time. Middle of the night. Four in the morning. Any time. Promise?’

  Katrina—‘Promise.’

  As Catherine and I go.

  Katrina—‘You’re almost as thin as me.’

  Sarah—‘Wedding nerves.’

  Katrina—‘Yes, I remember when I…’(Bursts into tears.)

  We hug. Our emaciated bodies clinging to each other.

  Drive back. Thinking of dropping in to see John because I need to see him. But I couldn’t tell him everything. I’d have to spend a month telling him about everything and then he’d hate me and then it would be destroyed anyway and I’d lose both men. But perhaps I wasn’t meant to be with either. And look at Katrina.

  I didn’t want to go into too many details with Paul about it. But Paul wanted to know where I’d been that night and I told him.

  Paul—‘Oh, yes, I’ve heard. Katrina had an affair and Henry can’t deal with it. It’s understandable. I think he’s found someone now, and she’s dealing with it OK and being grown up about it. People have to move on. Henry’s putting a brave face on it. I feel sorry for Gerry.’

  God, that made me so angry. I’d just come from seeing Katrina, totally distraught, and her husband was painting such a woe-is-me-I’ve-been-cuckolded attitude with his friends and colleagues. It made me sick. So I spoke.

  Sarah—‘Just one minute, Paul. You only know part of the story. I’ve just been with Katrina. She’s distraught. She’s by herself. Henry’s been behaving like a pig. He’s asked her to leave the house with Gerry and move into a smaller house. Leave the marital home. He doesn’t come home. When he does, he’s drunk. And he went on holiday with this little bitch when it was his son’s third birthday party.’

  Paul—‘Oh, she mustn’t leave the house. She should get a good solicitor. But she’s probably feeling guilty for her own affair, Sarah. You must consider that.’

  Sarah—‘That affair was two years ago, Paul. Two years ago. Why’s it taken him such a long time to realise he can’t cope with it? That’s an excuse. It’s bullshit. He’s met someone else and is passing the buck. He’s a complete wanker. And she’s all alone. Her mother is no help at all and his parents are being complete prats. Treating her as a non-person and protecting their he-who-can-do-no-wrong son. Ugh, it makes me sick.’

  Paul—‘She shouldn’t have had an affair.’

  Sarah—‘She shouldn’t have married the prat. Why did she marry him, then?’

  Paul—‘For the money.’

  Sarah—‘He didn’t have any when she married him. They’ve made all their money during the marriage. Something he’ll have to take into account with the settlement, if it goes that far. She’ll get a percentage of everything.’

  Paul—‘He works very hard.’

  Sarah—‘So does she. So has she. And she’s had to give up her career to look after Gerry.’

  Paul—‘What career did she have? She worked as a part-time teacher, or something. Didn’t earn very much money. And Gerry goes to nursery now, doesn’t he?’

  This is getting too close to home. This is getting too close to telling Paul that perhaps we shouldn’t get married and that, hey, I’ve had an affair, and he won’t be able to deal with it because he’s from a similar background to Henry and methinks in a few years’ time he will turn round and say, Hey I can’t cope. And marriages are cheap anyway, so why bother. And if two supposedly nice people can break up a seemingly perfect relationship with all the trimmings…

  I’m so angry. I’m so angry for Katrina but think I’m also angry for me. Coz I know this is where I’m going if I’m not careful.

  Sarah—‘Perhaps we should postpone the wedding.’

  Paul looks shocked.

  Paul—‘Sarah—we have a
week to go. We can’t postpone the wedding. The wedding is in one week. One week. One week, Sarah.’

  He repeats it for his own sake, methinks, as much as mine.

  Paul—‘Why postpone it? Just because of Katrina and Henry? But we’re not Katrina and Henry. Everyone is different. They grew apart. He wanted one thing and she wanted another and this happened.’

  Sarah—‘Well, it could happen to us. This is bollocks, Paul. It’s a complete cop-out. It’s a complete cop-out to say children will be OK if it’s handled right. It’s selfish of the parents. I feel so sorry for Gerry and so sorry for Katrina, because you didn’t see her and I know she wants to make this work. You didn’t see the state she was in. She’s so thin. Really thin. And she doesn’t want to divorce the wanker. And I’m not married to him and I want to kill him for doing this to my friend. Bastard. Complete fucking bastard. And everyone thinks he’s so nice and you tell me he’s coping well. He’s thinking from between his legs. Well, I hope there is such a thing as karma and he gets what is coming to him and she gets what is coming to her.’

  Paul—‘I’ve met her. She seems very nice.’

  Sarah—‘She is nice. What do you mean, she seems nice? Katrina’s your friend as well as Henry.’

  Paul—‘No, Katrina married Henry. I knew Henry before I knew Katrina.’

  Sarah—‘Does that make a difference?’

  Paul—‘Yes, I think so. It’s difficult not to take sides.’

  Sarah—‘But we were at their wedding. What was all that about bearing witness, and that nothing should pull them apart? I know I’ve just come back from there and given her details of a good solicitor, but I want to try and make it work for them. Perhaps he’ll get over this bitch.’

  Paul—‘She doesn’t seem like a bitch. She seems very nice. Short. Not like Katrina at all.’

  Sarah—‘Well, anyway—us. Don’t think we should get married in one week. Don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m very anti-marriage at the moment, and not in the right state of mind to get married.’

  Thinking on my feet. This may be my way out. I may have to use Katrina’s situation and say this is why I feel cynical about marriage. I’m not being hypocritical. I do. I am. Just that it’s not quite the reason why I want to stall. But I think I should. Know it’s gonna be inconvenient, but think I should.

  Paul—(tears in eyes)—‘Sarah, I love you. I love you. We’ve waited such a long time to get married. To get to this stage. We’ve gone through so much together. Through thick and thin. And I love you. And I know it hasn’t been easy, and I know I wouldn’t blame you if you had an affair…’

  He said that. He actually said I wouldn’t blame you if you had an affair. It rang in my head and I knew the bell to be hollow and his words to be hollow because never for one second did he think I would ever have an affair and be unfaithful so he could say it, because he would never believe it, because he was arrogant and thought I was his little pixie and only his and I wanted to cry now.

  Paul—‘I know we haven’t made love properly for years. But we do other things. We hug and express our love in other ways. And I know it’s been hard for you. But the best things in life are worth waiting for and you’re worth waiting for and we are worth waiting for. You know that, Sarah, don’t you? And I’ve never met anyone like you and you’re so special and I know I don’t always show it but I always feel it. You’re the one for me, Sarah, and I’m so happy and proud to be getting married to you, and Katrina and Henry’s situation is totally different. So don’t let that spoil it for us. Not our day. Not our day. Not our life. Not the rest of our lives.’

  And I am in tears now. And I think, How can I get myself out of this mess?

  Can’t sleep for rest of the night. When I sleep I dream I’m on this huge see-saw. One way, then the next. Up and down. One way with John, then with Paul, and then thinking, Hey, I just want to get off and leave the playground and go somewhere else to play—or not. Just not be there. And thinking they both have their fine qualities, and then thinking of Katrina and thinking Paul would never be able to deal with it and he’d turn into another Henry. And I couldn’t be open with John because he’d hate me and he’s principled and how could principled people want anything to do with me? I’d been lying to him after all. And there I am again on that see-saw when I close my eyes. So I keep them open and don’t sleep. Until I hear the birds tweeting and realise I have. And realise I haven’t texted John back.

  Message sent:

  Sorry haven’t text back. Love you. Miss u. Want u.

  Thinking of u. aching for u.

  Xx

  Lying to you.

  26th August

  Want to cancel John and wedding. And sleep without dreaming about being chased. All guests have said yes to invites. Few on holiday. But others say yes. Sit people next to those they get on with, we think. Or have something in common with. Most of Paul’s side are City. They can talk gilts and equities and house and car size and ignore their wives. Most of mine are in every field imaginable, so can talk about life. My mother and mother-in-law-to-be are trying to outdo each other on dress. All ushers have been given orders to be at church at a certain time, and distribute orders of service and know where they are supposed to be at what time. Flowers done. Cake done. Dress done. Hair and massage organised. Numbers known. Reception briefed. Choir paid. Rehearsal done. Honeymoon am told done. Photographer and video done. Car done. Everything done and running smoothly, I’m told.

  Katrina calls. In tears.

  Katrina—‘Been to that solicitor. She was brilliant. And it was scary.’

  Sarah—‘Did you tell her everything?’

  Katrina—‘Yes. You know I had an abortion while we were still going out? I told them about that too.’

  Sarah—(shocked, but not for reason I thought)—‘I’m shocked. But it happens.’

  Katrina—‘It does, and I told Henry, and Henry said it wasn’t the right time to have children and we’d only been going out for nine months or so. I wanted it but he didn’t so I had the abortion. But he’s Catholic, or his family is, and he went to confession and came back a bit strange and I didn’t want to tell anyone about it and he told me not to tell anyone about it. And so I didn’t. Well, except some friends who I’ve known since school.’

  I’m not alone. My scenario is not unique and how many women out there are going through this? Making this mistake. Making this mistake over and over again. And they should be talking to one another. There should be a helpline. The ‘Don’t Marry Catholic Bankers with Hang-ups About Sex’ helpline. Unless you are a nice Catholic girl, and most of them I know have told me they don’t want to marry Catholic boys because they look at their fathers and think, Hey, don’t want that. I don’t know, perhaps they are not all the same, but I think women should talk more. More about stuff like this. Fuck the shopping.

  Sarah—‘And what did the solicitor say?’

  Katrina—‘Well, I sat in there for an hour. Cost me three hundred pounds, it did, but think it was worth it, and think I will hire her.’

  Sarah—‘You’re right, Katrina. That’s the right thing to do. And come to the wedding, and bring Gerry if you like. You’ll enjoy the party. Just come. I need some friends there, Katrina. Most of them are City colleagues of Paul’s. They’re not my friends. They may be his, but they’re not mine. I won’t see them again. I know that. But I would like to see you again, and I think you might find it amusing. But then again it might be too upsetting and remind you of your own wedding. Perhaps not. Perhaps not.’

  Katrina—‘Thank you, Sarah. I want to be there for you, but I think it will be too painful. And I think Henry has asked Paul if he can bring his new girlfriend with him.’

  Sarah—‘Has he really? Well, I’ll have something to say about that. She’s not coming, Katrina, and he doesn’t have to either.’

  Katrina—‘Thanks for being such a good friend, Sarah.’

  Sarah—‘That’s what I’m here for, Katrina. There’s two sides to
every story. Perhaps you shouldn’t have had the affair and should have dealt with it differently, but I think marriage is a commitment and you should work harder than this if you decide to do it. If you don’t think you can, don’t do it at all.’

  Katrina—‘Good luck.’

  27th August

  I think I’m losing weight in my sleep. I haven’t weighed myself in ages, but think I’m stressing out so much I’ll be as thin as Katrina by the wedding day if I carry on at this rate.

  Meet John at six p.m. in Hylands Park. He picks me up at Brentwood Station and drives me to the park. Sunny day. Much like when Paul and I went to cricket ground. John looks shocked when he sees me.

  John—‘Christ—you’re thin. You’ve been working too hard. Are you well? Are you OK?’

  Sarah—(lie)—‘I’m fine. It’s so good to see you.’(Truth.)

  John—‘Come here.’

  He holds me close and I realise how thin I’ve got when he presses into me and I can feel that he feels my ribcage and that for once I have cheekbones. But not the way I intended or where I intended. I feel fragile, and he senses that he needs to be gentle with me both physically and emotionally today.

  John—‘Are you sure you’re OK, Sarah?’

  Sarah—‘I’m fine. Can we sit down over there?’

  I point to a large oak tree up a hill. It takes twenty minutes to reach the tree, and we don’t talk. We just walk in silence. I keep holding his hand and touching his arm. When we arrive at the top I sit down on his lap and snuggle up. I don’t want to leave the tree or his arms. I don’t want to go back down the hill or home or to bed, because I know I’ve only got another few days before the day. The happiest day of any girl’s life. But not this one. John tries to pull away after ten minutes to see my face and talk. But I don’t want to talk. I just want to hold him in silence under the tree in the sunshine. But I’m so weak now he’s able to undo my arms around his waist quite easily. Cupping my hands in his and looking into my eyes.

  John—‘Something’s happened. What is it? This isn’t the Sarah I know or recognise. You’re not OK, Sarah. What is the matter? You can tell me.’