Dancing Over the Hill

by Cathy Hopkins

  I laughed, probably a tad hysterically. I was beginning to doubt why I’d come. Had he changed from the selfish charmer who always got his way? Does a leopard ever change its spots? He’d appeared back in my life and made his proposal with no thought for the disruption he’d cause, the hurt he’d cause to Matt. My husband was just an obstacle in his way to be brushed aside as he took what he wanted. It also occurred to me that he’d answered the questions, but not appeared in the slightest bit interested in what my replies might have been, assuming that either he already knew the answers or that my replies were insignificant, just as they had been so long ago. Tom clicked his fingers, people jumped around him. Was I prepared to do that for the rest of my life, all for a few sessions of steamy sex?

  ‘Not hungry?’ Tom asked as he looked at my plate of barely touched food.

  ‘Not really.’ I stood and began to help clear, but he took the dishes and placed them back on the table. He pulled me to him so that I could feel his body against me. ‘So why are you here, Cait Langham?’ He looked deep into my eyes; as I felt the sweet stab of desire, any doubts receded. Tom Lewis was and is addictive and irresistible stuff, I thought as he led me over to the sofa.

  We sat, then he gently pushed me back and moved to lie alongside me. I felt consumed with longing for him. I wanted him as much as he wanted me. I wanted to touch him, have him caress me, possess me, put his mouth on mine and to lose myself in him. He began to stroke my neck, shoulders, the curve of my hips, my thighs, all the time staring into my eyes. It felt deliciously erotic and oh so familiar; I was back, twenty years old, vulnerable, helpless to refuse him. I put my hand up and traced his cheek, his jaw line and, in doing so, caught sight of my wedding ring. I suddenly froze. I wasn’t that twenty year old any more, free, single: I was married to Matt.

  ‘What is it?’ Tom asked as I abruptly sat up.

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this. We have to stop before we go further.’

  Tom groaned in frustration. ‘Nooooo. Cait, then why have you come?’

  ‘I …’ I couldn’t explain. ‘I don’t know.’

  Tom sat up next to me. ‘I can’t go on like this. Either we see this through or we don’t.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘I … I need to think.’ We were so close, hands almost touching, thigh next to thigh. It would be so easy to lie back and lose myself in what we’d started, but to continue would come at a price and I was beginning to feel that it wasn’t one I was prepared to pay. Tom said he had feelings for me, but how long would they last? There would never be any certainty with him. He’d texted, then appeared in Bath and just assumed I would meet him – and I had. Then there was the call from Bristol: he’d summoned me, I had gone. I could suddenly envisage a life with him. He’d play the tune, I would dance, but is that what I really wanted? And would he tire of me if a better offer came along? He’d always craved experience and adventure and, as he’d said, us being together could be the mother of adventures, but what if another quest or challenge came along, beckoned, promised more than I could give? I had to leave. I had too much to lose if I stayed.

  Tom reached over, took my hand and looked at me, trying to gauge what was happening.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Tom.’ The white doves had gone, the violins were silent, there were no more rose petals falling from the sky. It was time to say goodbye.

  ‘You’re going to tell me that you’re staying with Matt, aren’t you?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘So why come? Put me through this?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure. It hasn’t been easy for me either.’

  Tom sighed heavily. ‘Is there nothing I can say that will persuade you?’

  ‘There isn’t. I’ve been flattered by the offer you made me, truly, but it was never going to happen. I realize that now.’

  ‘Will you tell Matt about me or have you already?’

  ‘When the time is right, I might tell him I met up with an old friend, and we could stay in touch maybe.’

  ‘We could,’ he said.

  ‘Liar.’ I got up to go. ‘I wish you well, Tom, I really do, and I hope you find a companion who you can go sailing into a merry old age with, preferably one who’s not married.’

  He smiled, but the look in his eyes was sad.

  When he called me a cab, he didn’t come down to the street to see me off, just gave me one last hug at his door. ‘If you ever change your mind, you know where I am,’ he said.

  ‘I do,’ I said.

  When I boarded the train at Paddington and found a seat, I felt an enormous sense of relief and closure. In my life, my relationship history, Tom had always been the one who got away, but this time, it was me who’d left. I had no regrets.

  36

  Cait

  Matt came through the front door on Monday around midday looking tanned and glowing with health. He strode into the kitchen and gave me a big hug, which I returned; I was genuinely pleased to see him.

  ‘So it went well?’

  ‘Brilliant,’ he replied. ‘So good to catch up with the lads and be out there in the open air. We all agreed we should keep it up – maybe the Lake District next time. How was your weekend?’

  ‘Oh good, fine,’ I said, and hoped he wouldn’t press me. He didn’t. He got out his phone to show photos he’d taken along the way. I was relieved that he was so fired up from the trip that he didn’t notice the sackcloth I was wearing, nor the neon sign that I was sure was over my head saying: your wife’s been off with another man.

  ‘And tonight’s our date night, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it. Right. Off for a shower,’ he said, and disappeared upstairs with his rucksack. I heard him singing in the bathroom, a sound I hadn’t heard for many a year.

  Well, there it is, I thought. Normal life resumed.

  *

  We opted for a meal out for our date and I decided to take Gina’s advice and spend more time than usual getting ready. I bathed, applied Chanel No. 5 and dressed in a simple white summer dress. I felt optimistic about our evening, more determined than ever to get our relationship back on course

  ‘Wow. You look lovely,’ said Matt when I came down the stairs. I’d chosen to wear a pair of shoes with a small kitten heel that I’d hardly worn. They pinched a bit, but it wouldn’t matter because we planned to park near the restaurant.

  I could see Matt had made an effort too, and was wearing a smart jacket. He looked great after his weekend away and I could see that his efforts to lose weight were paying off.

  ‘So do you,’ I said.

  He looked pleased. ‘Change from the dressing gown. I’ll drive.’

  We set off in a good mood, and already I was mentally thanking Gina for her advice. This was just what we needed. A night out together away from the house. ‘Park near the sports centre. There’s always space there.’

  ‘OK,’ said Matt, and set off in the direction I’d instructed. When we got to the turn-off to take us to the car park, we saw that there were No Entry signs all over the road.

  ‘Oh no. We can’t get through.’

  ‘No matter,’ said Matt. ‘I’ll drive round to Laura Place.’

  When we got to Laura Place, there wasn’t one free space. Ten minutes later, we were still driving around.

  ‘What about the cricket ground?’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Matt, and we headed there and into the car park, but again there was no room. Matt rolled his window down to speak to a man walking away from his car. ‘Is there something on this evening?’

  The man nodded. ‘Rugby. Home game.’

  ‘No wonder,’ I said. ‘We should have checked.’

  ‘We could try Widcombe and walk through the station,’ Matt said as we drove away from the cricket ground. ‘We’ll never get a space in town.’

  ‘I don’t think we have any choice. We should have taken Gina’s advice and got a taxi.’

  We drove up to Widcombe; luckily a car was just driving awa
y from the tiny car park there, so we drove in swiftly.

  We walked down to the restaurant, but there was a ‘Closed For a Private Function’ notice on the door.

  ‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘It’s booked.’

  ‘No. Never mind,’ said Matt. ‘Come on. We can go to that French place at the top of town.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  We made our way up to the other end of town, by which time my feet were beginning to hurt in my new shoes. When we got there, we found it was no longer a French place. It was a pizza place.

  ‘I’m not in the mood for pizza. We could have that at home.’

  ‘Lebanese?’ Matt said. ‘There’s a place down in Southgate.’

  We turned around and headed back the way we’d just come. By this time, I was beginning to feel hungry and my feet were killing me.

  When we got there, a young man with a beard, his hair coiled into a bun at the back of his head, came forward to greet us. ‘Do you have a booking?’

  ‘On a Monday night?’ Matt asked. ‘I wouldn’t have thought we’d need one.’

  The man gestured to the restaurant full of happy diners, not one empty table in sight. ‘We have a new chef and special offer on this week. We’re booked solid every night.’

  ‘When is your first available table?’

  ‘Next Tuesday.’

  ‘Don’t you do two sittings?’ Matt persisted.

  The man shook his head. ‘I’m very sorry.’

  Back out on the pavement, I looked around. ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘There are hundreds of places in Bath. Rustico? They do great food.’

  ‘But that’s at the top of town where we’ve just come from. I’m not walking all the way back up there again – my feet are killing me. We really ought to have checked or booked.’

  ‘I thought you would. You do usually.’

  ‘Or you could have. Why would you assume I would do it?’

  ‘Because you always do,’ Matt replied. ‘Look, let’s not argue. What do you want to do?’

  ‘Go somewhere back up near the car; there are a couple of pubs up there that do food. My feet are hurting.’

  At that moment, the skies opened and it started to pour. Neither of us had an umbrella so we darted into the nearest shop entrance to shelter.

  ‘So how’s it going for you so far?’ I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Had better nights. Let’s just get in somewhere dry. Shall we make a run for it? Or wait till it’s dry?’

  ‘Wait till it’s dry.’

  We waited a few minutes, then a few more. ‘I think we’re going to have to go,’ I said after another five. ‘It looks like this rain is in for the night.’

  We set off into the night and were back at the car in ten minutes. Both of us were soaked through to the skin.

  ‘Takeaway?’ Matt asked once we’d got into the car.

  ‘Can’t say I’m in the mood any more.’ My hair was flattened against my head, with rivulets of water dripping down my nose and chin. ‘And what’s that on the window?’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ said Matt. ‘A parking ticket. At this time of night? We were only five minutes over, then it’s the free time.’

  ‘That’s when the wardens get people,’ I said.

  Matt let out a heavy sigh. ‘All in all, a night to remember.’

  ‘For all the wrong reasons. I am sorry, Matt.’

  ‘I’m sorry too. I feel I’ve let you down.’

  I reached for his hand. ‘It doesn’t matter. Don’t blame yourself, it takes two.’

  Matt looked surprised that I was making light of it, but I wasn’t going to let one failed date get in the way of making things work again.

  ‘Guess we’re a bit out of practice,’ said Matt. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I promise.’

  I smiled. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  We drove home in our wet clothes, then had poached eggs on toast and a cup of tea.

  ‘Romantic huh?’ said Matt before he retired to watch the news.

  ‘As you said at Gina’s, as long as we’re together, any place is romantic.’

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ Matt said, but he looked puzzled.

  I went up to my study and laptop and watched a fascinating clip about a man interviewing a guinea pig who appeared to be able to talk back. Next was a quiz with fifty questions about books to discover if I was a literary genius. Turned out I was. Did the quiz again and purposely answered the questions wrongly. Turned out I was still a literary genius. Then I did one last questionnaire to find out what kind of music will be played at my funeral. I got ‘Stairway to Heaven’. It’s amazing what you can discover on Facebook.

  37

  Cait

  Catalogues received in the post:

  Hotter shoes for comfortable feet.

  Easy Living: with stairlifts, mobility scooters and incontinence pads.

  OK. Who sent this? What a cheek, I thought, although … oh, there’s some great stuff in here. Where’s my credit card?

  Items purchased:

  Automatic tweezers for chin hair.

  Insulated gel shoes to relieve the pain of corns and calluses.

  Magnetic bracelet for arthritis.

  Eye cream for puffy eyes.

  Bicarbonate of soda ear drops to remove ear wax.

  And that just about sums up my age, I thought as I looked at the list of what I’d bought. In thirty years, I’ve gone from leg warmers for keep fit to toe spreaders for bunions.

  *

  ‘So how did the date go last week?’ Gina asked us once we were seated and her dog had humped Matt’s leg in greeting. It was our second session with her and I felt slightly apprehensive. Would she notice anything different about me? Would she be able to see through me with her razor-sharp vision? Would she expose me for my betrayal with Tom?

  Matt looked sheepish. ‘Not great,’ he said, and filled her in on the evening.

  She burst out laughing which took me by surprise. I thought she would ask, ‘And how did you both feel about that?’

  ‘I hope that hasn’t put you off,’ she said. ‘You’re just a bit out of practice. Have you got another evening arranged?’

  ‘No I—’ I began.

  ‘Don’t let one disaster put you off. Don’t give up before you’ve even got started. Maybe factor in that one of you looks into the reservations, etc. The other books a taxi. It was meant to be a night off for both of you.’

  Matt nodded. ‘We got that.’

  ‘And the lists of chores?’

  I handed it over to her. She glanced down the list. ‘OK, twenty-two things listed. That’s eleven each. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ we chorused back.

  ‘If you find you are rubbish at one task, say so. Like one of you is a lousy ironer, you don’t just drop it, you swap for something you can do better. Now, how did the questionnaire go?’

  ‘Not much better than the date,’ I said. ‘We did it before Matt went off hiking.’

  ‘You went hiking?’ Gina asked.

  ‘I did. It was fantastic, reminded me of how much I used to enjoy it.’

  ‘Good, and what did you do, Cait?’

  I felt myself blush. ‘I was home alone, so caught up on a few jobs.’

  ‘And was that OK?’ asked Eagle Eyes.

  ‘Yes, but I was glad when Matt came back and, er, wished we’d done the questionnaire when we had more time. I felt we rushed through it and we didn’t seem to get the answers right.’ I hoped that she didn’t notice I was attempting to change the subject away from what I did at the weekend.

  ‘Right?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘And I felt Cait was hostile, as if she was using the questions as an opportunity to make me feel bad.’

  ‘And did you feel bad, Matt?’

  ‘Yes, yes I did.’

  ‘Cait, did you feel hostile?’

  ‘I … Maybe but I …’

  ‘Is being right an important factor for both of you in your relatio
nship?’

  ‘Possibly,’ said Matt, ‘but I feel increasingly unable to do anything right in Cait’s eyes and aware just how far we’ve grown apart, like we no longer know what the other one wants or needs or how they like to be kissed.’

  I cursed myself for not having considered the answers more at the time. I wanted to say, no, hey, I’ve come to my senses. I know I want to stay with Matt now. I want to make it work, but I knew I couldn’t without exposing exactly what had given me a change of heart.

  ‘We can deal with that more later,’ said Gina. ‘In the meantime, let’s talk about what you like or don’t like about each other, from the trivial to the deeper. Let’s get it all out: good, bad, small complaints through to the bigger issues. I like her eyebrows, for example, or I like the way she cares for our children.’

  ‘Right,’ said Matt.

  ‘Matt, why don’t you start?’

  ‘I liked Cait because she stood out in a crowd. I was drawn to her, and not just because she looked great. It felt right, meant to be, and when we got together, I felt like I became my best person when I was with her.’

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘But as I said last time, I don’t like how she seems angry with me most of the time these days. I don’t like the way she has shut me out of her life. I don’t like how I see myself when she’s around. I didn’t like how she got upset when I wasn’t dressed first thing in the morning – it’s not like I had to go anywhere. I don’t like the way she puts the milk in before the tea—’

  ‘You never said. Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘Cait, let him finish,’ said Gina.

  ‘I don’t like the way she turns away from me in bed and almost seems repelled by me being close to her. That’s about it.’

  ‘And is any of this rectifiable, Matt?’

  He smiled. ‘Milk in the tea would be easy enough. Tea first, milk after.’

  Gina smiled back at him. ‘Anything else?’