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Dancing Over the Hill

Page 31

by Cathy Hopkins


  ‘I don’t know. Only she can tell you that.’

  ‘You seem to be putting a lot onto Cait’s behaviour towards you, Matt. Do you think there’s any reason she feels irritated with you?’

  ‘Lots of reasons. I’ve let her down. She prefers the company of her friends. I know I haven’t been a lot of fun lately, but I have been taking steps to change that.’

  ‘Cait? Would you like to say anything now?’

  ‘I’m not irritated with you all of the time. I guess I let petty resentments build up, but I think we’re addressing that.’

  ‘Resentment can happen when things aren’t expressed,’ said Gina. ‘And it can also happen when there’s been a loss. When someone can’t deal with the intensity of grief, it is common for the psyche to choose an emotion it does understand and can deal with and, in your case, that could be irritation or even hostility, and it can sometimes, often, be directed to those near and dear to you.’

  ‘So are you saying I’m irritated with Matt because I haven’t grieved about losing Mum and Eve? Surely it can’t be that simple?’

  Gina reached out and put her hand on my arm. ‘That might have felt safer than dealing with deeper feelings that you’re not ready to address. Grief is a sensitive, prickly and complex area. I’m saying it’s a possibility that, in not having dealt with it, you may have taken things out on Matt, he being the closest person to you. Only you will be able to tell when you’re ready to deal with these feelings, and I don’t want to press you but … maybe have a think about it, and when you’re ready, think about the people you’ve lost if you feel able. For now, let’s concentrate on what’s happening between you and Matt. You were saying?’

  ‘I don’t know where he goes any more or what he’s working on.’ I turned to Matt. ‘You used to tell me in the early days, share it all.’

  ‘I didn’t think you were interested in my work any more,’ said Matt, ‘and lately, I didn’t want to get your hopes up when nothing’s definite.’

  ‘So you are working on something?’ I asked.

  Matt looked at Gina. ‘I think it’s important to say if you are,’ she said.

  ‘You never discuss what you’re working on with me,’ Matt said.

  ‘Only because it’s not gone well and I didn’t think you needed more bad news. To tell the truth, I’m not even sure I want to write any more, or can, and if I don’t do that, what else can I do?’

  ‘I could help,’ Matt said. ‘You always used to come to me to discuss ideas.’

  ‘So you’re both working on things that the other knows nothing about?’ asked Gina.

  ‘Yes,’ said Matt.

  ‘Not any more,’ I said. ‘I’ve given up.’

  ‘Well, it sounds as if you’ll have lots to talk about on your next date. In fact, I’m going to ask that you leave that until then. Let’s go back to your list of likes, Matt?’

  ‘I like the way she looks. I like her sense of humour, though it’s been somewhat absent lately. I love her kindness and tender heart. I like her company when she’s in a good mood. I like her loyalty to our sons and me. I like her cooking, in the main.’

  I inwardly winced at the word loyalty.

  ‘You like my cooking, in the main?’ I asked.

  ‘You always do scrambled eggs too dry.’

  ‘So you make them.’

  ‘I intend to now I have time,’ Matt replied.

  ‘OK, how about you, Cait?’

  ‘Well, as I said in our first session, what I first liked about Matt was that he seemed so together in a time when a lot of us were drifting. He was attractive, but it was more than that: he had purpose, plans, goals. I wanted to be with him and part of that. What I don’t like is that he seems to have lost that and seems at sea.’

  ‘That’s because I am, but that’s changing, and you might have noticed that I do get dressed in the morning now.’

  ‘Can you acknowledge that, Cait?’

  ‘Yes, I can. I had noticed. And I think the dressing-gown issue was symbolic of what I don’t like, as if it typifies how he’d given up.’

  ‘But you just said it was you who’d given up,’ said Gina.

  ‘I …’ God, she was right. I felt myself squirming. ‘Are you saying what’s happened to Matt and me is all my fault?’

  ‘Not at all, Cait,’ said Gina. ‘In any relationship, each person plays their part in the dynamic, and it’s often unspoken but mutually agreed. Anything else, Cait? No matter how trivial.’

  ‘I don’t like it when you nick the duvet.’

  ‘I don … sorry … Your turn,’ said Matt.

  ‘I don’t like it when you don’t communicate with me. I don’t like what’s become of us, and that maybe you’ve given up on the possibility of us being happier.’

  ‘Have you given up on that, Matt?’ Gina asked.

  ‘Not completely,’ he replied.

  ‘And what else do you like about Matt?’ asked Gina.

  I turned to him. ‘Your kind heart, the fact you’re a gentleman, that I can trust you; you used to make me laugh; your hard work over the years looking after all of us.’ I suddenly felt tearful. Matt was a good man. It was unfair to have even considered leaving him, or to have blamed him for my unhappiness.

  ‘What is it, Cait? Can you say?’ Gina asked.

  ‘I was just thinking what a decent man Matt is. Maybe it’s me. My restlessness causing him to suffer.’

  Matt looked at me tenderly. ‘As Gina said, it takes two. Don’t blame yourself. I’m here, aren’t I? Trying to make things work, and yes, it was you pushing for counselling, but I recognize my part in what you call our stale marriage too.’

  ‘See, and now you’re being decent again.’ I thought about Tom, the fact I’d seen him behind Matt’s back, trying to recapture someone I no longer was. ‘There’s a lot I like about you, Matt. I just …’

  Matt finished my sentence. ‘… wonder if it’s too late and we’ve outgrown each other.’

  ‘In a lifetime,’ said Gina, ‘a person can have many marriages, all while married to the same person. A good marriage, a passionate marriage, a stale marriage, a turbulent marriage, a marriage of minds and friendship, marriage when you’re together, a marriage when you’re apart; it can all go on over a long period of time within the same relationship. It keeps changing and it doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ve outgrown each other, just gone into a different phase.’

  ‘But what if the phases are mismatched and you don’t want to be in the phase your partner’s in?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s where communication comes in. If you can reconnect with what’s behind all the changes, find that thing that never changes, then you can decide if you’re going to stay with each other.’

  ‘And what is that thing that never changes?’ asked Matt.

  ‘Love,’ said Gina. ‘That’s what it comes down to in the end. Do you still love each other? Because if you do, you can ride any passing storm or stale phase.’

  Matt and I looked at each other. The expression in his eyes was so deeply sad, it made my heart twist. Do I still love you? I asked myself. I cared. I was fond of him, and loved him in a way that had changed over the years. Was I in love with him? That was a different question altogether. Although I’d decided not to have an affair with Tom, it hadn’t magically made everything right with Matt. We still had a long way to go to get back to the familiar ease we once had.

  ‘Is there anything rectifiable?’ asked Gina. ‘Apart from how you make the tea and scrambled eggs?’

  ‘I hope so,’ I replied. ‘If we start talking, I mean really talking and listening to each other about how we feel, I think it would help.’

  ‘Good,’ said Gina. ‘So – a second date, and this time fill each other in on what you’ve both been working on.’

  38

  Cait

  The following evening, the restaurant was booked. We got a cab.

  We went back to the Lebanese place and inside was buzzing with people.

>   After we’d given our orders for a mezze to share and got a glass of wine, I sat back. ‘So – do you want to go first or should I?’

  ‘Let’s toss for it,’ Matt replied. We tossed a coin, I won.

  ‘Over to you.’

  ‘OK. An old colleague, Bruce Patterson, asked if I could come up with some ideas for a programme series for people our age. A look at how to make the most of the next chapter, how to embrace life and not give in to a dull old age.’

  ‘But, Matt, that sounds wonderful. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Matt shrugged. ‘Because it’s one of those “maybe” projects. If Bruce likes what I come up with, he’d still have to pitch it, and you know how hard it is to get anything made these days. I didn’t want to raise your hopes then let you down again.’

  I reached out and took his hand. ‘I’m tougher than you think. So what have you come up with?’

  ‘To approach the subject from different angles: the physical, nutritional, mental, emotional and even spiritual.’

  ‘What Debs would call a holistic approach,’ I said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I love it. I’d watch it. Where are you up to so far?’

  ‘I’ve been working on the programme to do with the physical approach and all that entails. Keeping fit is so important at any age, but particularly in later life.’

  ‘Ah, so that explains your newfound interest in the gym and disappearing off for walks instead of taking the car.’

  ‘And getting back into hiking. Partly research, partly I realized I could do with getting fit myself. Now what about you?’

  ‘Zilch. I had a mad idea to write a book about a fairy who’d lost her way. A tooth fairy who’d run out of money to put under the kids’ pillows, so she turned to drink.’

  Matt laughed. ‘Sounds good, could be funny.’

  ‘It’s not, it’s rubbish. The last version I wrote was an adult-only version and the fairy annihilates everyone including herself. I don’t think I am a writer after all. I get to chapter three and want to kill my characters.’

  Matt laughed again. ‘Finding it tough?’

  ‘I just don’t know what’s me any more. I think the writing appealed as a way to escape into other worlds, but maybe, as Gina said, that was a reaction to Mum and Eve dying.’

  ‘How so?”

  ‘Create a new self, Cait the writer who lives in another world. Anything to avoid living in the real one and an excuse to hide away upstairs.’

  ‘Is it so bad?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I really want to do. I mean, it’s the same for you. Time to retire? But what does that mean?’

  ‘I’m finding out. When I first lost my job, it felt like my life was over, the end, but lately, I’m starting to see that it could be the beginning of something.’

  ‘Dad said something interesting to me before he moved out. He said if I stopped, I might realize that there’s no place to go because I’m already where I was aiming to be. It’s not that life is over, but maybe one part of my life is and, as yet, I don’t have a clue what’s next.’

  ‘I feel exactly the same,’ he said. ‘Maybe we could find out together.’

  ‘I’d like that, Matt.’ I meant it too.

  Matt looked touched. ‘We could research this retirement business together, partly for the TV series but also, partly for us. We could be the guinea pigs – look at what’s on offer, then we can decide if that’s what we want. Travel, learn new skills, but without the pressure of having to make money from them.’

  ‘Great idea. I could help. We could do all the things you suggested. And I’m sorry I’ve been a pain lately and made you feel like you couldn’t do anything right.’

  ‘I’m sorry too, that I’ve been so grumpy and shut down.’

  ‘Onwards,’ I said. ‘I have a feeling the worst is over.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Matt and looked at me tenderly. ‘I really would like to make things work.’

  ‘Me too. We will. So … what’s next after the physical approach?’

  ‘Just starting to look at the emotional. The importance of staying connected, not becoming a recluse or giving up and hiding away, watching daytime TV.’ He grinned sheepishly. ‘The importance of talking.’

  ‘Is that why you agreed to therapy?’

  ‘No, not really, but it may help. It’s for us too, but maybe we could bring looking at retirement into it – in fact Gina said as much.’

  Cait nodded. ‘I think a lot of people would like to hear that there’s more that awaits you than old age—’

  ‘And golf.’

  ‘And mobility scooters. What you have sounds good, really good. I could make some lists for you.’

  ‘You could.’

  We spent the rest of the evening making plans. I could see that Matt was fired up by the idea and it felt good to share it with him.

  ‘And perhaps an extra one looking at what’s on offer in terms of accessories.’

  ‘Ah, so you sent for the catalogues that arrived in the post?’

  ‘I want to look at all the things that can aid old age.’

  ‘Thank god for that. I thought maybe some cosmic force somewhere had picked up on the idea that we needed all that stuff.’

  Matt laughed. ‘No, it’s all for research. How about Monday to Thursday we could work on the first four areas – not all day but for a few hours – and Friday we could look at alternative things to do.’

  ‘A shared project, sounds like it could be fun. Dad might have something to contribute too.’

  ‘And perhaps we should start advertising on the Airbnb site, now that your father and the boys have gone.’

  ‘I agree.’

  It was great to see Matt like this again, taking charge, motivated, more like the man I’d first met. We spent the rest of the evening chatting over plans and he appeared to value my input.

  ‘Hey, that was fun,’ I said as we left the restaurant.

  Matt nodded. ‘It was. Let’s do it again soon.’

  39

  Cait

  The change in Matt continued. He was up and dressed before me in the morning, doing more than his fair share of household tasks, out for walks, down the gym, researching various classes and courses, and telling me all about them with great enthusiasm. Curiously, the more he signed up for things, the more I found I was less and less inclined to go to my classes; in fact, I had a strange urge to put on my dressing gown and to stay in with my feet up, watching telly, instead of dashing out to Zumba or yoga or choir.

  Matt and I had agreed to travel separately to the third session with Gina, because I’d been visiting Jed, and Matt had been down at the gym doing a t’ai chi class. However, my car broke down on the way over to Warminster and I had to wait for the road recovery men. When I texted Matt to let him know, he’d just arrived at Gina’s, so he decided to have a session with her on his own.

  He got home around the same time that I did, and got out of his car looking subdued. He let out a deep breath.

  ‘You OK?’ I asked. ‘Has something happened?’

  He nodded and let out a deep sigh. ‘I had an amazing realization.’

  ‘You did? Come inside then and tell me.’

  We went in and sat in the kitchen.

  ‘So what is it?’

  Matt took another deep breath. He really did look overcome by some deep emotion, and I wondered what trauma Gina had unearthed. ‘I realized that you’re not Rex,’ he said as he sat on a stool at the island. Rex had been his dog and constant companion from childhood until he left for college.

  OK, I thought. Not quite what I expected. ‘I’m not your dog?’

  Matt seemed genuinely moved and close to tears. He always got that way when he talked about Rex. ‘Yes. Remember I told you about him? I had him from when he was a puppy. He was my constant companion, went with me everywhere, slept at the end of my bed and always knew what I was thinking, if I was sad or happy.’

  ‘OK. And how does that r
elate to me exactly?’

  ‘Rex instinctively knew what I was thinking and feeling. I realized that I actually have to voice my thoughts to you; you’re not telepathic in the way that he was.’

  I had to try hard to resist the urge to laugh. I knew that would be the worst possible reaction and that Matt was having a sincere moment.

  ‘Oh … OK. So does that mean you’ll be talking to me more now?’

  Matt nodded. ‘Yes, absolutely, and I’m sorry that I expected you to just know what I was thinking and feeling.’

  ‘As long as you don’t get me a lead or call me for a walk, that’s fine.’

  Matt laughed. ‘But it got me thinking, how about we get a dog again?’

  ‘Oh, Matt, we can’t, not at the moment. Animals cost money – vets’ fees, food, kennels if we go away. There’s too much uncertainty in our lives at the moment.’

  Matt looked so disappointed that I almost changed my mind, but then he nodded. ‘You’re right as always. It’s not a good time to make a commitment like that.’

  ‘I am sorry, Matt.’

  ‘Maybe later, when we’re settled again.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Oh, and Gina’s given us some homework.’

  ‘Another questionnaire?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Another date?’

  ‘Nope. We have to give each other a non-sexual massage. Twenty minutes each. It’s to get us used to touching each other again.’

  ‘Homework?’

  ‘She wants us to get comfortable with each other physically.’

  ‘I’m hopeless at massage.’

  ‘Me too. She said to use our hands to explore and stroke each other, to trace each other’s faces, necks, frames, right down to the tip of our toes with our fingers, but not the breasts or genital areas. We can stroke, rub, squeeze, but that’s all. You up for that?’

  ‘Guess so. How often?’ I asked.

  ‘Two or three times a week. Does that sound OK?’

  ‘Can’t do any harm.’

  ‘We could try it tonight if you’re not doing anything, and she said to try not to see it as a chore.’

  ‘Gina was the one who used the word homework.’

 

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