Second Lover

by Gill Sanderson

  Then early on Tuesday evening, when she got home looking forward to a couple of hours’ luxurious getting ready, Doug said, ‘There was a call for you five minutes ago. A man called Ross McKinnon phoned and said he’s madly busy. He just can’t get away tonight, he’s got an aneurism. Said not to call him, he’s on the ward and he’ll ring when he has time.’

  Lyn sighed, disappointed. But these things happened. ‘I bought a new dress,’ she complained.

  ‘Then I’ll take you out. Tell you what, I know you didn’t like the Indian restaurant, you pick where we should go.’ She wanted to go out; she’d been looking forward to it.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘There’s a new steak and salad bar opened down the road. We’ll try that.’

  ‘Suits me. Going to wear your new dress?’

  ‘No,’ she said.

  In fact the evening was quite pleasant. Doug snapped out of his morose mood and became again the good companion she remembered. They talked a little about old times but they did not dwell too much on the past. She enjoyed herself. But she’d rather have been with Ross.

  Ross was to Doug as claret was to beer.

  On Wednesday evening things went downhill rapidly.

  ‘Doug! I put those pictures away because I didn’t ever want to see them again.’ She couldn’t believe what he had done.

  Doug looked up from where he was stacking books in her bookshelf, and said curtly, ‘This place has no character. We want it back the way it used to be.’

  He continued taking her textbooks out of the bookcase and replacing them with old climbing guides, dog-eared maps from long-past trips.

  She looked around in increasing horror. It had been a hard day, and now she was home to find Doug had rearranged her living room. Her books were in piles, there were the old pictures on the walls, even ornaments, mementoes of days she wanted to forget. There was a slab of dolomite rock. A stuffed monkey she had always hated. This was stuff she should have thrown away!

  ‘Doug! This is my flat. You’re welcome to stay—for a while—but you don’t live here and you don’t rearrange things without my say-so. I’ve got the place how I like it, and that’s the way it’s going to be.’ She pulled a picture from the wall, grimacing as the pin tore out of the plaster.

  Angrily Doug dragged the picture from her. ‘That was taken on the top of the Eiger! It brings back memories. I want it where I can see it.’

  ‘And I don’t! Listen to me, Doug. This is my flat, I decide on the decorations. Right?’

  Now he was really angry. ‘What’s wrong with you? The three of us were happy here, we had good times, and we’re going to have those good times again. But not with the place decorated like this!’ He picked up the fallen pin, hammered it back in the plaster and hung the picture again.

  She couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Gavin is dead, Doug, d’you hear? He’s dead! We have to move on. We aren’t three any more, we’re two. And you’re only staying till you find somewhere else.’

  ‘I know Gavin is dead! I was there when he died. You told me on Sunday night—you didn’t need to, I already knew.’ As she watched he carefully straightened the picture.

  Then, with bewildering speed, his mood changed. He became conciliatory. ‘Please, Lyn, can’t we leave them here? Till we get things sorted out. Tell you what, just leave a couple of the pictures up and I’ll put the rest away.’

  She was tired, so she gave in. ‘All right. You can leave just two pictures up. But they don’t stay there for long.’

  ‘Sure, not for long. I’m sorry, Lyn, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  He came over and hugged her, something he had done a lot recently. ‘There were three of us, now there are only two of us. We can carry on as we used to. I’ll take Gavin’s place.’ He kissed her.

  She pushed him away, looking at him wide-eyed. ‘What d’you mean, you’ll take Gavin’s place?’

  ‘You’ve been working hard, you’re tired,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and make you a cup of tea.’ She watched him walk to the kitchen, unwilling even to think about what he had said. He’d take Gavin’s place. The man must be mad.

  She bathed and then changed, and when she came back into the living room he’d done as he’d said. Most of the pictures, the books and ornaments were gone. Just two mountain scenes remained, discreet and well placed. She had work to do that evening, and he was quiet and considerate, going to bed with a soft goodnight well before she did. She put the earlier ugly scene out of her mind.

  She had other things to think about.

  Next morning she was about to rush off to work when he called out, cheerfully, ‘Lyn, it’s awfully cramped up there in the attic. All right if I move down into the spare bedroom? Don’t worry about shifting anything, I’ll see to it all.’

  She needed to leave at once; she didn’t want to think or talk. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea. We don’t need any more changes really, do we? You won’t be here much longer. Look, we’ll talk about it when I get back.’ She’d forgotten about the matter when she came home.

  Ross hadn’t phoned, and she’d rather hoped he would. Of course, she could phone him—but he had cancelled their evening, and she felt it was up to him to phone first.

  Perhaps after their long talk on Sunday he’d decided to let their relationship cool. Did he think it wasn’t going to go anywhere? Or perhaps he was still busy. Who could tell? Doug had prepared tea, not a meal she would have picked, but she was grateful because she felt too tired to cook. Afterwards she dozed in front of the television and tried to read a textbook. No good. She decided to go to bed early and was surprised to see Doug coming out of the spare bedroom.

  ‘What are you doing in there?’ she asked crossly.

  He looked genuinely perplexed. ‘I’ve moved down. You remember, I asked you this morning.’

  ‘But I didn’t say yes. Doug… oh, what does it matter? Incidentally, you’ve been here a while now, isn’t it time you started getting yourself sorted out? A job would be a good start.’

  ‘Sorry about moving down when you didn’t want me to,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll move back tomorrow.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m going to bed. Stay where you are.’ She didn’t sleep.

  She came home early the next night. Work—or life—was getting on top of her, and she wasn’t going to stay a minute longer than was necessary. She walked into the living room and there was Doug on the phone. He looked up, startled, as she entered the room and muttered down the phone, ‘Sorry, I’ll have to go.’

  ‘Who rang?’ she asked curiously. ‘You haven’t had a call before—no one knows you’re here.’

  ‘Doing what you said, trying to find a job. I’m looking for some agency work.’

  ‘Should be easy enough to find in London,’ she commented. ‘They’re really short.’

  ‘You look worn out,’ he said. ‘Sit there and take it easy and I’ll put the kettle on. A cup of tea’ll fix you up.’ She sat in her favourite armchair, kicked off her shoes, and closed her eyes. And the minute she heard the kitchen door close she took the phone and dialled 1471.The courteous voice read out the last number to call. It was Ross’s number.

  She rang him at once. His voice was cool.

  ‘Please can we meet in the Mayflower tonight?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got a lot to tell you and to ask you.’

  ‘You want to tell and ask yourself, not get your boyfriend to do it?’

  ‘If I have a boyfriend—which I’m beginning to doubt—it’s you. I haven’t asked anyone to take or send messages for me.’

  There was a pause, then, ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I think I see. Lyn, I’ve been stupid, I’m so sorry. When I rang and—’

  ‘The Mayflower at nine thirty tonight,’ she interrupted. ‘We can talk then. That all right?’

  ‘Fine.’ He rang off.

  Now it was Doug’s turn to be suspicious. He placed the tea tray on the table between them and asked, ‘Who was that on the phone?’

  She didn’t tell
him to mind his own business. ‘They want me back at work,’ she said. ‘I’m on call, I’ll drop in for an hour after tea.’

  ‘That place works you too hard. You should be at home looking after me.’

  ‘It’s what I’m paid for,’ she said. She didn’t want a fight. Not yet.

  Over the next couple of hours she thought about confronting Doug. But she decided not to, not yet. First she wanted to talk to Ross. Something he had once said to her on the ward came back to her. ‘Get all the facts before making a decision or a diagnosis. You can’t decide on anything until you know everything.’

  Doug said little all evening, sitting in an armchair, reading.

  At nine she told him she was going out, then walked down to the main road and hailed a taxi. She didn’t want to travel by underground, she needed some peace. There were things she needed to work out.

  The Mayflower was quiet and she saw Ross sitting in the same corner they’d sat in before. He looked worried. When he saw her approaching he stood, his smile apprehensive.

  ‘I want a hug,’ she said, and opened her arms. She didn’t care where they were. It was so good to feel the strength of him, to be crushed against his hard chest, to smell his faint, lemony aftershave. Then they sat side by side in the banquette.

  ‘Listen,’ she said, ‘on Sunday you said that whatever happened we could work things out. I should have remembered that. I misjudged you, I’m sorry.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I was stupid. I should have known that kind of behaviour just wasn’t you.’

  She leaned up to kiss his cheek and said, ‘I need a drink and I think I’d like a whisky. A double, in fact. Then we can talk like civilised human beings who…’

  ‘Who love each other?’ he suggested.

  ‘Yes, who love each other. I think talking is part of loving.’

  He fetched her whisky, and brought the same for himself.

  ‘I’ll talk first,’ he said. ‘Your turn next. I was worried after Sunday. I knew we had differences, but I hoped we could work them out. I was very much looking forward to Tuesday.’

  She couldn’t restrain herself. ‘So was I,’ she said. ‘I bought a new dress.’

  He smiled. ‘When I phoned you early on Tuesday evening, a very reasonable-sounding man answered—presumably Doug. He apologised and said he’d been asked to give me a message. You didn’t want to come out to dinner. You were thinking about the relationship, and needed time to work out what was best. And please, I wasn’t to try to get in touch. Doug was very apologetic, and said he was very sorry but that was it.’

  Anger flared in her. ‘I never said any of that!’

  ‘I know. I should have known—but he was so plausible. I decided to ignore what I thought you’d said, and phoned again tonight. He was pleasant again and still plausible. Then you rang, and it all came together.’

  ‘He tricked us both,’ she said slowly. ‘And I never doubted him once.’

  ‘He’s very, very clever,’ Ross said. ‘You should recognise this kind of manipulative behaviour, Lyn. The man has no conscience. He’s a sociopath.’

  At first she was ready to disagree. Then she thought. ‘I do recognise this kind of behaviour,’ she said slowly. ‘I recognise it, I remember it from…’

  ‘From his brother,’ Ross supplied. ‘This is how Gavin used to behave.’

  The sadness was almost more than she could bear. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I see it now, the same technique too. Gavin used to take phone messages for me, and sometimes they got… scrambled.’

  For a moment they both sat in silence. Then she said, ‘I’m not in love with his memory any more. Doug has managed to free me of it.’

  ‘What are you going to do about Doug?’

  Here at least she was certain. ‘Throw him out. I can still feel a bit sorry for him—but he’s got to go.’

  Ross looked worried. ‘I’ll come with you. You don’t know how he’ll react.’

  ‘Seeing you will only make things worse,’ she said positively. ‘Don’t worry about me; I’ve known Doug for a long time. There’ll be no trouble. I’m angry now, and I’m going straight back to tell him.’

  ‘I still think I ought to come with you.’ Seeing her determination to cope alone, he went on, ‘Well, I’ll drive you back and wait outside your flat. You can ring me on my mobile to say that all is well. If you don’t phone in fifteen minutes, I’m going to be in there.’

  ‘All right,’ she said, rather pleased by his concern. ‘I want to do it now, so I think I’ll go. Ross, what about us?’

  ‘I told you. We have to trust each other. If we love each other, anything is possible. And we’ll sort things out. Can we meet here at lunchtime tomorrow?’

  ‘Nothing will keep me away. Come on, drive me home. There are things I have to do.’

  ‘You’re back early,’ Doug said. ‘They didn’t keep you too long on the ward?’ He looked relaxed, at ease with his book.

  ‘I didn’t go to the ward. I had a drink with Ross McKinnon. We got things sorted out. Doug, I don’t know what your stupid game was, but it’s over. You lied to me and you lied to my friend. I don’t want you here. Now pack your bag and get out!’

  Now she had his attention. ‘Lyn, you don’t mean that! All right, perhaps I did change the messages a bit, but that was only because I care for you. You were looking tired, that man’s no good for you. We’ve got each other, we don’t need him. You know what we mean to each other!’

  ‘I know what you mean to me. You mean misery and grief and memories I wish I didn’t have. You’ve been here long enough. Now get out!’

  ‘But I’ve got nobody! All I have is you.’

  ‘You don’t have me, you never did have. I was engaged to your brother, and now he’s dead. Are you going to get out or do I have to call the police?’

  She wasn’t expecting what happened next. He burst into tears. ‘All I’ve got is you, Lyn, please don’t throw me out. Let me stay just a little while longer, just till I get somewhere to go. I’m sorry for what I did, I won’t do it again. Please, Lyn.’ He stretched out a hand to her. She didn’t take it.

  The sight of his misery caused some of her anger to evaporate, but not all. Perhaps she could afford to be merciful. ‘You can stay till the end of the weekend,’ she said. ‘Sunday night at the latest but not a minute longer.’

  Then something struck her. ‘Doug, why didn’t you come back to England sooner? What did you do in Borneo?’

  He gazed at her with his tear-streaked face. ‘I just hung around. Why?’

  ‘You must have spent some time in hospital when you injured your head.’

  ‘Yes. I was in quite some time.’

  ‘What sort of a ward were you in?’

  He stood, shoulders stooping. ‘I’ll go to bed now, Lyn. I’m sorry for what I did.’

  ‘Not yet. Tomorrow you’re to see a doctor. I’ll give you the address of a good local GP. Sign on with him and ask for a complete check-up. You do it or you’re out now.’

  ‘All right, I promise. Goodnight, Lyn.’

  She watched him shamble out of the room, then lifted the phone and dialled. ‘Ross?’

  ‘Right outside. How did it go, Lyn? Are you all right?’

  ‘No problems at all. He burst into tears. There’ll be no more trouble. I told him he could stay till the end of the weekend, to give him a chance to find somewhere to stay.’

  Ross wasn’t convinced. ‘People like him can be cleverer than you think. Be careful, Lyn.’

  ‘I’ll be careful. Incidentally, I think I know what’s wrong. I suspect he had psychiatric treatment when he was abroad. I’ve got him to see a doctor tomorrow.’

  ‘Like I said, be careful. Look, I want to come and stay with you for the next couple of days. The sooner that lunatic is out of your life, the better I’ll like it.’

  Just for a moment she was tempted. Living with Ross would… But, ‘He’s not really a lunatic,’ she said. ‘It would be lovely to have you here, but we’
ll wait until he’s gone. Don’t forget we’ve got a date tomorrow lunchtime.’

  She felt that he was still anxious. ‘Come and stand in the window so I can see you,’ he asked.

  She opened the curtain and saw the Land Rover below.

  She waved and saw a pale shadow wave back. ‘I love you,’ his voice whispered in her ear.

  ‘We’re getting to be regulars,’ he said as she walked over to meet him the next day. ‘I think I know your tastes so I’ve ordered for you.’ He indicated a ham roll and a lemonade and lime.

  ‘You’re a darling. It’s been a hard morning on the ward, I need nourishment.’ She bit into the roll.

  ‘Now, how did last night go? I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea for him to be there. You’re too soft-hearted, Lyn.’

  ‘He’s part of my past and it’s good for me to get rid of my own ghosts. It was good of you to offer to help, Ross, but this I needed to do on my own. Anyway, he’s going at the end of the weekend.’

  ‘You sure? You don’t think he might try to wear you down? I’m not entirely convinced that you know what you’re dealing with.’

  ‘Doug will be no trouble. If he doesn’t like it then too bad. I’m hoping that when he’s seen the doctor he might feel better about things. I think he might have had a rough time out there, and he needs therapy.’

  ‘Yes, when he’s seen the doctor,’ Ross muttered. ‘Look, Lyn, one last thing. I want to be there when he goes. Don’t tell him I’m coming, I’ll just turn up. If he doesn’t like it too bad.’

  She thought a moment, then said, ‘All right. In fact it might be quite a good idea.’

  He didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the way she’d agreed to his plan. She noticed the frown on his face, and he looked up at her as if seeking the answer to a question in her eyes. ‘Lyn, how soon have you to be back?’

  She shrugged. ‘You’ve worked the ward; you know how busy we are. I can only stay a few minutes, and often I don’t leave the ward at all. Why? Is there anything wrong?’