A Year of Finding Happiness

by Lisa Hobman

  I tried to force down the lump in my throat as I listened to Stevie Nicks singing about changing in ‘Landslide’. What had I done to deserve this shit? Really? In the space of four months I’d become a husband, was dreaming about being a father, and then had that dream ripped from me. Everything I had believed in was crumbling around me and I had no clue what to do.

  Sorrow pushed down on me like a heavy weight, and I choked as the emotion I’d been fighting finally broke free. Tears spilled over from my clenched eyes and sobs racked my body. Gulping for air as my shoulders shuddered, I hugged my arms around myself, still clutching the bottle.

  ‘Why? Why does she insist on breaking my fucking heart?’ I asked the empty park, wishing someone were there to hold me and take the pain away, tell me it would all be okay. But of course it wouldn’t be okay. I knew that already.

  Half a bottle of whisky gone; my head was spinning. I looked up at the sky and felt completely insignificant under the magnitude of whirling constellations. What did my problems mean in the great scheme of things? To me? Everything. Eddie Vedder from Pearl Jam sang ‘Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town’ as tears continued to cascade down my face. The chilly evening air hit my damp skin and I shivered.

  In the song it was the old lady’s memories that were fading but for me it was the love I’d held in my heart for the woman I had thought was carrying my child. It was fading fast; if it had ever really been there at all.

  *

  Eventually I decided I should head back. I had nowhere else to go and the temperature had dropped substantially. Glancing at my watch, I realised it was almost one in the morning. Alice would no doubt be worried. And I was glad. I wanted her to suffer. I wanted her chest to ache as mine did. I wanted her to know my pain. How the hell could someone do that to the person they supposedly loved? It was one thing to lie about small things. That was bad enough. But to lie about being pregnant…

  I stomped back towards the bedsit we called home as my blood thundered in my temples. At one point I had to stop and take deep breaths to try and calm the rage within. I couldn’t return to her feeling this way. I’d no doubt say something I regretted.

  I stopped again around the corner from our bedsit and stared up at the bedroom window. The light was on, which meant she was waiting up for me. I wasn’t quite as drunk as I wanted to be. Fuck it. I discarded the rest of the bottle of whisky and staggered back across the road.

  Opening the door, I stepped inside. Alice was curled up in a ball on the sofa. Her eyes were swollen and red. She glanced up as I walked in. As if unsure whether to approach me, she stood on shaking legs and took a few tentative steps.

  I held my hands up to stop her. ‘I’m going to go stay at Connell’s. I… I can’t be near you right now,’ I informed her without making eye contact. After walking into the bedroom, I grabbed my holdall, stuffed in a few clothes, and zipped it up. She stood at the doorway, twisting her fingers, watching my every move.

  ‘Can’t we just talk about this, Greg? I’ve said I’m sorry. What more can I do to make it right?’

  Moving close to her, so that my nose was almost touching hers, I spoke through gritted teeth as my lower lip trembled and my heart ached again. ‘There’s nothing you can do, Alice. Once again you’ve broken my heart. How many more times am I expected to put up with it, eh? Do me a favour. Don’t contact me. I will contact you… if and when I feel like it. Now move.’

  She flinched and tears escaped her eyes. I felt no sympathy, only pain.

  I arrived at Connell’s flat and knocked on the door. He opened it and stood there with a sad expression, and I knew she’d called him.

  He gestured into the flat. ‘Come in, mate.’

  *

  Around two weeks later, after I’d had time to cool down and think things through, I turned up at Alice’s door. Part of me had no idea why I was there, but another part of me loved her and wanted to make things work; thanks to the minor detail that she was actually my wife.

  I hadn’t seen her at university, and her friends were staying loyal to her by not giving me any information. Not that I asked more than once.

  So there I stood outside the place we had begun our married life together. I tentatively knocked on the door and waited. The scrawny creature that answered the door was hardly recognisable.

  ‘Greg?’ she whispered before flinging her arms around me and collapsing into my body. We clung to each other for the longest time and I carried her into the room. Pulling away, she kissed me feverishly and began to unbutton my red-and-black checked shirt. Confusion, hurt, and love washed over me in equal measures; and as we tumbled backwards in each other’s arms, my mind was screaming at me to stop this from happening. But my heart overruled my head. I loved her. God only knew why, but I did.

  We made love slowly with our eyes locked, whispering heartfelt apologies and words of love as we took pleasure from each other’s bodies. The climax I experienced was intense to say the least. But afterwards there was still an emptiness inside me that I couldn’t shake.

  *

  After leaving university, Alice and I moved to Oban, where I got work in a music shop and she began a job with an independent fashion designer. Things had been going well and we’d put all of our hardships behind us. I’d learned to forgive her for what she had put me through. We even got to the point where we had discussed the possibility of trying for a baby, but I didn’t feel quite ready.

  We were renting a little house just outside the town centre but since the death of my parents, we’d been talking about buying somewhere of our own. Alice was getting frustrated with what she said was my lack of ambition. She wanted me to open a recording studio in Oban and begin to make something of myself, but I was enjoying meeting all the musicians that came into the shop to jam. It was like one long recording session at the place, and I loved the vibrancy and electric atmosphere I encountered every day.

  My best mate, Connell, had started working as a music teacher at a school in Oban after following us to move there. His girlfriend was a barmaid at a club in town and so weekends were spent drinking and dancing. I was loving life for the most part.

  Except for the constant arguments.

  Friday came around. It was the second-to-last weekend in August and we were going to a gig over in Inverness. A band made up of our former uni pals, the Mad Batters, were playing at The Ironworks, which was quite an exciting event as far as I was concerned. I arrived home from work about an hour earlier than normal. Alice was still at work and so I jumped straight into the shower.

  As I was towelling myself off, the phone rang. I grabbed the receiver and tucked it under my chin. ‘Hello?’ I said as I hopped around drying my feet.

  ‘Hi, Greg, mate. Look, I’m really sorry but I cannae make it tonight.’

  ‘No way? Why the hell not, Connell? We’ve been looking forward to this for ages, mate.’ I couldn’t have disguised the disappointment in my voice even if I’d wanted to.

  ‘It’s Sarah, she’s really sick. A bug or something. Throwing up like something off The Exorcist. Can’t leave her, mate. Sorry.’ There was a muffled sound as Connell shouted to Sarah in the background. ‘Look, mate, I’m sorry. I’d better go, okay? Talk to you tomorrow. Have a great night.’ He hung up.

  Fucking knobbing fuck! I threw down my towel. Okay, so my night was semi-ruined, but at least Alice and I could go. I dressed in my black jeans, black boots, and my favourite Soundgarden T-shirt. Making my way downstairs, I chuntered to myself about the convenience of Sarah’s supposed illness. She never wanted to go anywhere, that wee lassie. Drove me bloody mad.

  As I stood in the kitchen making mysel’ a coffee, the front door opened and Alice walked in, looking pale and miserable.

  ‘Oh, great. Not you as well?’ I know my attitude was selfish, but I could see my eagerly anticipated night rapidly going down the swanny.

  Her brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean, not me as well?’

  ‘Connell rang. Sarah’s t
hrowing her guts up and so he can’t go tonight.’

  ‘Ah. That explains it, then.’ She dropped her head and sighed heavily.

  ‘Explains what?’

  ‘The reason I’ve been throwing up all day. I was going to come home, but we’re pushed out trying to get ready for the fashion show in Glasgow next week.’

  I walked over to her and helped her off with her coat. Concern came over me. ‘Do you think you’ve got what Sarah has?’

  ‘We were with them last night and the night before. Stands to reason one of us would get it.’

  ‘Aye, I suppose so.’

  She stroked my cheek and hugged me. ‘I’m so sorry, Greg. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to tonight, but I feel crappy. I just want to sleep.’

  I dropped my gaze to the floor. She couldn’t help being ill. I tried really hard not to let my disappointment show through. ‘You go on up to bed, babe. I’ll bring you a drink.’

  She smiled up at me and kissed my cheek. ‘Look… why don’t you still go, eh?’

  I shook my head and hugged her to me. ‘No, it’s okay. I’ll stay and look after you.’

  ‘All I’ll be doing is sleeping. The sickness has stopped. You’ve been looking forward to this for so long. Just go, sweetie. It’s fine… honestly.’

  I brightened a little. ‘Really? But—’

  ‘I insist that you go. If you stay here, I’ll feel guilty and you’ll be over the top with the nursey thing.’ She was right. I couldn’t stand someone I cared for being ill. I tended to go a bit far.

  I kissed the top of her head. ‘Okay. Only if you’re sure.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Okay. Thank you, babe. Get yoursel’ to bed, eh?’

  ‘I’m going.’ She made her way upstairs. Around an hour later I checked on her and she was sound asleep. I kissed her head and left her to recuperate.

  Climbing in my Landy, a relatively new acquisition – not brand-new, but new to me – I set off for Inverness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The journey from Oban to Inverness was going to take me almost three hours, but I’d got a great soundtrack for the trip. I sang along as loud as I liked as I drove the winding roads of the Highlands, surrounded on all sides by bracken-covered outcrops and lofty mountains that appeared to touch the fading azure-blue canopy overhead. The sun began to set as I travelled; the red, orange, and purple glow to the sky behind the mountains was so stunning that I came over quite emotional. I could never tire of Scotland and its beauty. I knew exactly what Dougie MacLean was singing about in ‘Caledonia’. Scotland would always be home to me.

  An hour into my journey I was busy singing raucously along to ‘In The End’ by Linkin Park when my mobile phone began to ring. I could barely hear it over the CD blaring out, and so I leaned to turn the volume down a little. I’d left the phone on the seat and nervously glanced over. Shit, is it Alice? I swerved as I looked down at it, trying to get a look at the caller ID. Realising it was stupid to try and read the screen on the move, I pulled over, stuck my hazard lights on and grabbed the phone.

  Sarah? Confusion washed over me.

  I clicked to answer. ‘Hi, Sarah. Are you feeling better?’ I tried to sound friendly.

  ‘Better? What are you on about? I’m fine. Can you pass the phone to that arsehole of a boyfriend of mine, please? He’s got his phone switched off, and my mum’s asking if we’re coming down again in October. I need to check with him.’

  I laughed. ‘Very funny, Sarah. Tell him to stop arsing around. I’ve still got a ways to go yet.’

  ‘Greg, what on earth are you waffling on about? Just hand him the sodding phone, will you?’ She was getting angry? At me? She was the one messing about.

  ‘Sarah, come on now. I’m glad you’re feeling better, okay? But I’m hanging up now.’ I clicked end call and was about to pull out into the traffic when my phone rang again.

  ‘Hi, Sarah. What is it now?’ I couldn’t hide my annoyance.

  ‘Can I speak to Alice, then? At least I’ll get sense out of her.’

  ‘Sorry, Alice is in bed ill. She’s got the same as you.’

  ‘What? A set of annoying parents who like to plan ahead?’

  I scrunched my face. I had no clue what she was talking about and I was getting more pissed off as the seconds passed. ‘What?’

  ‘Greg… I will ask you once more and then I’m going to get really angry. Please can you pass the phone to Connell?’

  ‘And I will tell you once more. He is at home with you, seeing as you’ve been calling to Huey all day.’

  There was a brief silence. ‘He really isn’t with you?’ Ah, bingo! The penny droppeth!

  ‘No, Sarah, he’s with you.’ Everything went quiet again. ‘Sarah? Are you still there? Look, I’ve got to go or I’m going to be late.’

  ‘Erm… Greg, he isn’t with me. I’m down in Manchester with my parents. He stayed home to go to the gig with you.’

  Huh? ‘Oh… that’s odd. He rang me earlier to say that you were ill and he couldn’t leave you.’

  ‘I see. I don’t get it, Greg.’ I could hear the worry in her voice.

  ‘Me neither. Just hang on, I’ll call Alice and see if she’s heard from him.’

  ‘Don’t bother. Her phone’s off too.’

  ‘Oh… yeah, that’s right. I turned it off before I left. Didn’t want her being bothered, with her being ill.’

  ‘Do you think something’s wrong?’ Sarah asked after another pause.

  ‘I… I really don’t know what to tell you, Sarah.’

  ‘Is he having an affair, Greg?’

  Anger bristled at my skin. ‘What? Why the hell would you ask me that?’

  ‘Because you’re his best friend. And you have a tendency to stick together. But… please tell me if you know he’s having an affair. Don’t let him make a fool of me.’ Her voice wavered.

  ‘He’s not having an affair, Sarah. He adores you. I’m sure there’s some logical explanation for this.’

  ‘Yes… I hope you’re right.’

  I heaved a long sigh. ‘Look, I’ll go home and check at yours, see if he’s all right. I’ll give you a call, okay?’

  ‘But what about your friends’ gig?’

  ‘It’s no bother. I’d rather make sure Connell’s okay.’

  ‘Thanks, Greg. I really appreciate it. I owe you one.’

  My laugh was small and rather humourless. ‘Aye, you do. Bye, Sarah.’

  I hung up the call and turned the car around. Disappointment mixed with apprehension. What the hell was Connell up to? If he was having an affair, I’d fucking kill him. I drove at the top end of the speed limit all the way back to Connell and Sarah’s house. The place was in darkness. I hammered on the door and peered in through the window, but there was no one there.

  My mind whirred as I tried to figure out where he could be. I decided to head back to my place and check in on Alice, seeing as I was in the area. Then I’d set back off and catch the latter part of the Mad Batters’ show.

  I pulled up outside the house and switched off the engine. Once I climbed out, I walked to the door and unlocked it as quietly as I could in case Alice was still sleeping. Sleep was the best thing for a sickly person after all.

  I heard noises coming from upstairs. Shit! It’s a good job I came back when I did. Alice was crying out – bastard that I was, I’d left her alone and sick. I jogged up the stairs and burst into our bedroom.

  Alice’s eyes snapped to mine and she screamed.

  Connell lifted his head from between her thighs and simply said, ‘Oh, fuck.’

  My heart almost stopped dead.

  She scrambled up from the bed and gathered up her clothes, hopping around the room as she dressed. My chest heaved and I literally saw red. Lunging forward, I grabbed my naked so-called best friend by the hair and punched him in the face. He cried out in pain and blood spattered everywhere.

  Alice screamed and scratched at me. ‘No! Greg, please. Leave
him alone!’

  I drew back my fist again as I stared into Connell’s watering, wide eyes but instead of hitting him again I shoved him backwards and he staggered into the wall.

  Alice reached out for my arm. ‘Greg, this means nothing. I don’t love him. It was just a bit of fun. Please, let’s just talk, eh?’

  I couldn’t quite believe her empty words and as my heart shattered yet again, I growled out, ‘You’re not fucking worth it! Either of you!’ Alice stood there sobbing as if she were the injured party in all this. I shook my head as I stepped in front of her. ‘I loved you, Alice. I loved you in spite of the shit you’ve put me through. Well, no more. It’s over. It ends right now. Don’t call me. Don’t come looking for me. I will never forgive you for this.’ I could hear the pain and anguish in my own voice, but I was determined not to cave.

  Not this time.

  I took my mobile phone out of my pocket and dialled Sarah’s number whilst I stood in the room, seething, before my wife and her lover who both stood stock-still, evidently afraid to move.

  Sarah answered after one ring.

  With a raspy voice I said, ‘Sarah, darlin’, I’m sorry to do this to you, especially over the phone. But your boyfriend is a lying, cheating, scumbag bastard. And he deserves my lying, cheating, scumbag of a wife if you ask me. He’s been sleeping with her. I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but I’ve just found them in a rather compromising situation. So much for their fucking lies. Now I suggest you stay where you are, with people who actually give a shit about you, and have someone remove your stuff from the house as soon as possible. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.’ I hung up before she could answer.

  With a distinct air of déjà vu, I grabbed a bag and shoved all of the possessions that I could carry inside it, zipping it up when it was full to bursting. Picking up my keys, I walked out of the door and didn’t look back.

  I reached the Landy, threw my heavy bag in the back seat, and climbed in behind the wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, I was greeted by the words of ‘In a Big Country’ by the band Big Country, and the music somehow lifted me. Stuart Adamson seemed to be singing just for me about shattered dreams. A sense of serenity came over me and I actually smiled as I listened. He was right. It was time to leave.