Journey to the Centre of Myself

by Andie M. Long

  He gives me a weak smile, perhaps I shouldn’t have asked.

  ‘She had me worried for a while there. She’s had a nasty chest infection. The doctors suspected pneumonia at first but she’s finally responding to the antibiotics so my sister agreed to take her turn looking after her, so I can have a break.’

  ‘So she’ll be okay now?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  His eyes tear up a little. It’s obviously shaken him.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I touch his hand. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘Oh, no, it’s me being silly. It really got to me seeing her like that, she looked so vulnerable.’

  ‘I take it you’re close to your mum?’

  ‘Not as close as I should have been. I’ve not been the best at keeping in touch.’

  ‘Men never are, though, are they?’

  ‘I suppose not, but my mum and Karen have never seen eye to eye, so my visits have got less and less. That’s no excuse, though. I could have gone on my own.’

  ‘Well, you can see her whenever now. She’s getting better, isn’t she?’

  ‘She is. Thanks, Amber. Sorry to go all heavy on you.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind. Takes my mind off my own domestic dramas.’

  ‘Single woman like you. Domestic dramas. Who is it? I’ll get him for you?’

  I laugh. ‘You’d need a fortnight for me to fill you in, but basically my husband’s having Christmas dinner with his pregnant girlfriend and her young child.’ I quieten my voice. ‘Then my on—or is it off—boyfriend Steve, who I am awkwardly sat beside, told me he was a builder called Adrian when we first met and I’m not sure if I can be arsed to find out what he’s really like.’ Adrian’s eyes widen.

  ‘Looks like my brother-in-law and me will be having words about him assuming my identity later. Well, I’ve always thought he was a drip to be honest.’

  I choke a little on my drink. It makes me cough.

  Adrian shrugs his shoulders.

  Steve asks me if I’m okay and if I’d like some water. I nod my head.

  ‘Make sure you turn the tap off, Amber’s noticed a drip,’ shouts Adrian.

  Steve volunteers both of us as pot washers and so I reluctantly head into the kitchen.

  ‘It was a bit strange finding out you were hanging around outside my house. I told you to give me some time to think.’

  ‘I know.’ He wipes a plate, water drips from it onto the floor. I watch as he steps into the patch of water, making his sock wet. He shakes out his foot. ‘Ugh.’

  ‘I can find you a pair of spare socks after. There’re a couple of pairs of Wills that were in the wash when he collected his stuff.’

  ‘Thanks. How you doing with that anyway?’

  ‘I’m fine. Looking forward to a fresh start in the New Year. I might get made permanent at work.’

  ‘That’s great, Amber. I’m pleased for you.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s what I need. I have to know I’ve got steady money coming in now that there’s only me.’

  ‘Maybe there won’t only be you for long, eh? Then you won’t have to worry.’

  I ignore him. Is he serious?

  ‘I’ll put things away. You carry on drying.’ I walk to the other side of the kitchen.

  He follows me. ‘I can’t help it. I know I’m coming on strong and I don’t mean to do it, but I’m in love with you, Amber.’

  ‘No, you’re not. We’ve only been on a couple of dates.’

  ‘You make me feel alive. Since my marriage ended I’ve been dead inside.’

  I feel sorry for him. He seems to have no confidence and is romancing reality in the hopes he gains some.

  ‘I’m not the love of your life. Just the lust, remember?’

  ‘Oh, there’s definitely lust.’ He slides his hands around my waist and leans in to kiss me. I’m confused and let him. I’m still attracted to him physically, but mentally it’s another matter. My mind obviously wins the battle as I pull away from him. ‘Not now Steve, please.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll consider another date with me. Let me show you who I really am, the real me. Give me a chance?’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ I want to get back to my guests.

  ‘Great.’

  We walk out. He has a huge smile on his face that isn’t mirrored on my own. Karen looks at him as we walk out, then looks at me and mouths ‘are you okay?’

  I nod my head.

  ‘Dishes done. What’s next then, Amber? By the way, I didn’t notice the tap leaking.’

  ‘It’s an intermittent problem.’ I reply. ‘I’m in the process of trying to fix it.’

  Steve hones in on his sister, so I’m free to get on with some drinking. Before having another beer himself, Adrian checks it’s okay to leave his car at mine so he can travel back with Karen. Then Karen surprises me by announcing she has purchased a Christmas jumper. I high five her before realising I’ve practically sat on her husband’s lap to do so and quickly back away. ‘Oh, Adrian I’d better give you my number so you can let me know when you want to pick up your car. I’d appreciate a call first.’

  Karen leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He’s oblivious to it, caught up in exchanging numbers to sort out a silly car when his wife has just crossed a mountain towards him.

  I look away as I don’t want her to be embarrassed, so I act very interested in getting the number.

  Steve and Karen obviously get on well as they’re laughing and joking. I hear Mirelle ask what they’re doing and they say they are making resolutions. It sounds like a great idea and I grab a pen and paper. When we’ve done that—mine is to not be so impulsive—Shaun says it’s time for them to go. This spurs the others to leave. I’m ready for them to go. Because of them, I had to fore-go my Doctor Who Christmas Special and I want to stay up and watch it on iPlayer while I finish off the booze.

  Back in my onesie, I decide I’m staying in it from now until tomorrow evening since I’ll be spending Boxing Day alone. At least, I hope so. I close my eyes and pray that everyone leaves me alone.

  I replay moments of the day back in my head. The only thing left of it now is a full black sack in the kitchen, ready to go in the outside bin when I can be bothered to move it.

  I can’t get over the change in Mirelle since she dated Shaun. I’d take the piss except it’s so lovely and I don’t want her ditching him to regain her imaginary street cred.

  Adrian, the real one, is really nice. Yet it’s obvious that he and Karen are struggling to save their marriage. There wasn’t much intimacy between them, but then again, it could be that’s what marriage is like in later years. What would I know?

  Then there’s Steve. I wasn’t best pleased when he insisted we wash and dry the dishes together. The real Steve comes across as a needy, unconfident, butt pain. I looked at him while we were talking in the kitchen. Although he’s attractive, once he opened his mouth and started with the pleading, I just turned cold. Anyway, there’s no way I would make a scene on Christmas day, not with his sister and brother-in-law present. When he asked me if I’d meet him again, I didn’t feel I had a choice but to say it was possible.

  Perhaps if I go on one last date with him, where he’s not whining and pleading, I might see a return of the cool, calm, suave and oh so sexy man he hinted at being before.

  I’ll think about it.

  Chapter 29

  Karen

  We get home; switch the heating and fire on. Adrian had thrown his belongings down when he returned earlier so he heads off to put his stuff away.

  ‘Strictly is on,’ I say when he walks back into the living room. ‘Do you want to watch it?’

  ‘Yes, that’ll be great. I want to chill out with a beer.’

  My shoulders lose their tension. It’s been a nice day and I'm glad he’s not starting a long conversation about the future now we’re home. Instead, we share a pleasant evening watching television and chat amiably about things of no importance.

  On our way to bed
, Adrian sees the spare room door is open and walks inside, admiring the bookshelves.

  ‘They look really nice, love, you’ve done a great job. They need more joiners on the site if you’re interested.’ He winks.

  ‘No thanks. I’m pleased I did it, but it’s not something I want to repeat in a hurry.’

  ‘Nice array of books.’

  ‘My Christmas present to myself.’

  ‘I didn’t get you anything. I guessed we wouldn’t be making a fuss, like before. Turned out very different, didn’t it?’

  ‘Extremely different.’

  We walk into the bedroom, change into our respective pyjamas. I turn away from him while I undress.

  ‘Amber’s nice, isn’t she?’

  Dressed, I turn around. ‘Yes, I like her.’

  ‘I can’t see her and Steve together, though, can you?’

  ‘I don’t know. There must be something that attracted her to him. I can see why the lying put her off, though, with what’s been happening in her marriage.’

  ‘He’s too much of a wimp for her.’

  ‘Well, she’s said she’ll meet him next week.’

  ‘Really? That does surprise me.’

  ‘It doesn’t me. Amber changes her mind like the wind changes, hence the resolution.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s why she wants to be less impulsive.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I’m not sure we can change who we are underneath, though, do you? Parts of us can evolve, but not our entire personality.’

  I turn my lamp off and pull my covers up. ‘Night, Adrian.’

  ‘Night, love,’ he says, climbing in beside me and turning to face the wall.

  There is a massive space between us, and I’m not just talking about the bed.

  We potter about the house for the first part of the morning, fixing our own breakfasts, doing dishes. I vacuum. Adrian plays a new CD. I hate the music, find it annoying. We’ve never had the same taste in music. I like classical and Adrian loves tunes from the eighties, like Gary Numan, and Kim Wilde.

  Come mid-morning we both find ourselves in the lounge and it’s obvious it’s time. There’s nowhere else to go though I do consider running off to the Boxing Day sales.

  Adrian sits looking at me. Oh, so I get to start this.

  ‘Adrian,’ I say. ‘I think we should separate.’

  I wasn’t planning on saying this straight out. Rather, I imagined a huge conversation before it came to this, but no, it would appear my conscience wants to play it straight.

  ‘I thought you might say that,’ says Adrian, ‘but I really hoped you wouldn’t.’

  He cries. My charming macho man is reduced to a blubbering wreck and I’m responsible. I begin to weep myself and we reach for each other, hold each other and cry for a long time.

  I look up at him, rubbing my eyes. ‘We just don’t want the same things anymore. I considered you coming travelling with me, but it’s not who you are, and to be honest, I want to go by myself. To be honest, I still need time on my own.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve kept you so close and made you feel like you were trapped. I only ever wanted to keep you safe.’ He strokes his hand down my cheek. ‘I just can’t imagine a future without you in it, not after all this time.’

  ‘Adrian I still love you, but it’s just not enough. I have to make my own way.’

  He nods. ‘I love you too, but I realised our marriage was dead the day you walked out. We’ve struggled through some difficult times, but we’ve never really recovered have we?’

  ‘No, and I want you to be truthful here. You wanted another child, didn’t you? That’s one of the reasons you kept the room the way it was.’

  ‘I,’ he tries to get his breath steady to speak. ‘I’ve always hoped for children, and we had a daughter and she was beautiful. But I know the risk on your health was too great to try again.’

  ‘But if it hadn’t been, if I’d been okay, mentally?’

  ‘Yes, I’d have wanted another.’

  ‘But you see, I didn’t. After losing one child, I could never put myself through the chance of that happening again. You can have that chance now, Adrian, you have time to meet someone else, have children.’

  ‘I can’t hear this right now. Give me a moment.’

  He rushes out of the room, runs upstairs.

  A massive pain crushes my temples. I start to shake and curl into a ball on the sofa. This is like a waking nightmare. We’re no longer together. It’s over. How do we start to leave each other? Or have we already? We put this house together between us, now we have to tear it apart. If I imagine seeing him with someone else, with a child, it hurts more than the pain of childbirth. Yet I know that I don’t want to be with him anymore. I want to make my own decisions, have life experiences that are pleasurable. I want to live a little before I die.

  But, I ask myself, what do I do now?

  Adrian returns downstairs later. He brings in a bottle of brandy and pours us both one. ‘I’ve been thinking—we should sell the house.’

  ‘No, Adri—’

  He puts his hand up.

  ‘I don’t want to live here anymore, not for any period of time after you’ve moved, and I’m presuming you don’t want to keep it?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘It has too many memories and not that many are good ones. I’m with you. I need a fresh start.’

  ‘You could look into architecture?’

  ‘Don’t you think I could have looked into that years ago? I’m happy doing what I do. I don’t want to change my job. Yes, it can be risky when work is light, but there’s always someone who needs a builder. Little jobs to fall back on. Being an architect was just shit that came out of my mouth in my youth. I grew up.’

  ‘Do you think my idea about doing photography is like that then? A dream? Pie in the sky?’

  ‘Maybe, or maybe you’re having a midlife crisis, but you have to try. The money from the house sale can fund your dreams and I can find a new place to live. I only need a small flat for myself. A good thing is I can move nearer my mother.’

  ‘I really am interested in photography.’

  He crosses his arms. ‘I don’t really care, Karen, to be truthful. We’ve agreed we’re separating, and that’s what we’re doing. If your plans don’t work out, if you get bored with travelling or your new career doesn’t take off, then I won’t be here. You want to be alone that’s what you’ll be.’

  I feel like he’s hit me. His anger is unexpected.

  ‘I know I’ve hurt you.’

  ‘You haven’t got a fucking clue how I’m feeling. I don’t know myself. Part of the time I want to throw myself at your knees and beg you to stay, the other I want to cause you physical harm though I never would.’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t.’

  ‘But I feel like it. I’m so goddamn angry. When I went upstairs, I picked up your pillow, and I punched the shit out of it.’

  ‘I’ll leave.’

  ‘Karen, it’s Boxing Day, there’s nowhere to go.’

  I try to force back laughter, but it escapes in a rush, a small giggle.

  ‘What?’ Adrian’s forehead is creased.

  ‘It’s the thought that on Boxing Day you’re punching pillows.’

  ‘That’s not funny.’

  But he’s smiling.

  I make us a hot drink.

  ‘When do you think you’ll go?’ Adrian asks as I place them down on coasters on the coffee table.

  ‘When do you want me to go?’

  ‘You answer my question, please.’

  ‘Maybe I could stay here until after New Year? Then I can make plans. I think I’m going to catch a little sun, have a month in the Canaries. Swim. Relax. Think.’

  ‘That’s fine. I’ll take the sofa.’

  I know neither of us would ever make a bedroom of the spare room, it’s become unusable.

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’ve fallen asleep on it
many times before.’

  Memories float through my mind; like when I’ve woken him up to come to bed when he’s been so tired from work he’s fallen asleep on the sofa.

  A car backfires near the house. It’s been so quiet outside that it makes me jump.

  ‘The car, we never fetched the car,’ I say.

  ‘Amber said there was no rush. I’ll get it over the next day or so. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Shall I text her?’

  ‘No. I’m sure she had enough of us yesterday. Leave her alone today.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. I hope Steve’s left her alone.’

  ‘That’s one thing I won’t miss about our marriage, your bloody brother. I’ll be well pleased to be shot of him.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s necessary, slagging off my brother.’

  ‘Yeah, cos I bet he’s never said a bad word about me in his life. Your brother never thought I was any good for you.’

  ‘I’m not going to enter into a conversation about Steve.’

  ‘Because you’d lose. He better not upset that nice woman.’

  ‘He won’t.’

  ‘Make sure he doesn’t. And makes sure you tell him that you decided to leave me. I was here, fighting until the end. You were the one who threw in the towel. Do you want to snigger about that now? A boxing reference on Boxing Day? Fucking hysterical that is.’

  I realise I’m kneeling forward with my hands resting over my ears. Each sentence he utters is like a blow to my psyche. I wanted it to be civilised. For us to be grown-ups. I wanted… The perfect break up, I guess. But we’re far from perfect, Adrian and I.

  So I pick up my coffee cup and throw it at the wall.

  It makes a satisfying smash.

  The droplets of coffee fountain everywhere—down Adrian, myself, the mirror, the sofa. Like dirty tears on a cheek.

  Adrian wipes his face at the same time he looks at the destruction wrought by a solitary coffee cup and then turns his gaze to me. ‘You’ve soaked my bed. You can have the sofa tonight.’

  I nod in agreement. It’s only fair.

  ‘Just after the New Year then,’ he says. ‘We need to try to avoid each other until then. I’ve loads of work I can be doing. You finalise whatever you need to. Could we leave the actual divorce until we’re more sorted?’