EPISODE FIFTY-ONE

Following Ted’s outburst, Marjorie stood in the hall, paralysed by shock.  She felt nauseous and thought she might faint, so she steadied herself against the hallstand. Gradually the feeling passed, giving way to a sudden craving to eat something sweet and sickly.
She rushed into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed the remains of a Black Forest gateau, then sat at the table and shovelled it into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten for weeks.
‘That’s better,’ she sighed when she had finished. She looked towards the larder, wondering if she could still fancy a chocolate biscuit, and the picture calendar that hung from a rusty hook on the wall nearby caught her eye. She stared at the beach scene with a blazing sun, and frowned. Then she got up, fetched the calendar from the wall, and turned back the pages slowly until she reached March, a picture of lambs gambolling in a field. Her lips felt dry. The cake had made her thirsty. She fancied a cup of tea now. But that would have to wait. She went out into the hall and picked up the phone. She knew the number off by heart but it was a long time before the receptionist answered.
‘It’s Mrs. Blackburn. Marjorie Blackburn,’ she said when she got through. ‘I’m a patient of Doctor Jordan. Would he be able to see me today?’

*


At midnight on Saturday, the golf club dinner and dance began to wind down for a half-twelve finish. Barry and Pauline got up for a final smoochy slow number.  He held her tight while she sang along to James Blunt’s “Your beautiful”, softly in his ear.
Their taxi arrived bang on half-twelve and they both fell into the back. When they got back to her bungalow, she invited him in for a brandy night cap, then they lay back on the sofa, both a little tipsy after so much wine.
‘I checked in my old diary,’ Barry said. ‘On Wednesday it will be the second anniversary of our first date. We ought to do something.’
She avoided looking at him. ‘I’m playing golf on Wednesday.’
‘In the evening. I’d like to take you out for a meal to celebrate.’
‘There’s a meal being laid on after golf. I will have eaten.’
‘Okay then,’ he persisted. ‘Maybe we could go out somewhere for a drink afterwards.’
There was the briefest of silences, before her rush of words. ‘I can’t go on like this anymore. I really can’t. I can’t carry on this way. It’s got to end. I can’t make love to you anymore.’
It was so unexpected, at first he couldn’t take it in. But he could see by the tension in her body that this was for real. It was showdown time and floods of uncontrollable tears ran down his cheeks.
‘But we can’t split up,’ he begged.
‘I just don’t think we can be lovers anymore.  I’m not in love with you, and I feel it’s wrong when we make love.’
‘But why now, so suddenly?’ he sobbed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you.  I really didn’t. I did try to tell you sometime ago. I said I wasn’t in love with you. I like you, but I don’t love you.’
‘Yes, I remember. That was last September, when we got back from that barbecue. And at the time I said I didn’t want to replace your Rick’s love. I know how much you loved him up until his death. But I remember telling you that I wasn’t trying to replace him, or air-brush him out of your history, and I was quite happy to settle for affection and respect. And our relationship seemed to be okay after that. For a good nine months for Christ’s sake. So what’s suddenly happened to change all that?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, her mouth setting tightly.
He gulped back the brandy and demanded another. She brought the bottle and he poured himself an enormous measure. As he stared down at the drink, more tears blurred his vision, and his voice shook with emotion.
‘There’s someone else,’ he said. ‘You’ve met someone else.’
‘I haven’t. It’s just that I don’t want to carry on making love to someone I’m not in love with.’
Anger crept into his voice. ‘In these scenarios, there’s always someone else. The reason you’ve given me is...well, it’s pathetic. There must be another bloke.’
He gulped back another mouthful of brandy, his head now reeling from the drink and the bad news.
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way.  There is someone I’ve known for thirty years. Before I met Rick. And I always fancied this person. I still do. I had a do here last Saturday, and he stayed the night. But he slept in the spare room. And I promise you nothing happened. And perhaps nothing will. It’s complicated. He’s having an affair with a woman who’s married.’
‘Oh, this gets better and better,’ Barry cried, then took a swift gulp of brandy. ‘And you had a do last Saturday.  Barbecue, was it? And I expect you invited all your friends round. Most of those we saw tonight. So why wasn’t I invited?’
‘I feel guilty – so guilty – about that. But it wasn’t possible to invite you as well.’
‘You mean, as well as this other bloke.’
Almost imperceptibly, she nodded her head.
‘Can you remember the Friday before your do, by any chance? You came round to my place for dinner. And we made love afterwards.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I really didn’t want to hurt you. I like you. But I just can’t go on with it anymore.’
He knocked back more brandy. By now he was slurring and feeling numb from the depression that had hit him. They talked for another hour but found nothing new to say. Eventually, having drunk three-quarters of the brandy, he fell asleep on the sofa, dead to the world.
He woke up at eleven in the morning, and rather than feeling weirdly disoriented from the hangover, and the fact that this was the first time he had slept in her spare room, he knew immediately where he was and what had happened. His trousers and jacket lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, but he was still wearing his dress shirt. Then he happened to look out the window into the back garden, and the anger rose in his throat like bile. He let out the worst obscenities he could think of, cursing over and over, disgusted by what he had seen.
Pauline came running in from the garden, saying, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘What’s wrong,’ he yelled indignantly. ‘I fell in love with you and my world is falling apart.  And what do you do? You stand out in the garden practising your golf swing. That’s priceless. A real George-bloody-Bush moment.’
Then the anger left him feeling weak, and he sobbed again. ‘I’m sorry. It made me angry. It’s just that I fell in love with you.’
She sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.  ‘I didn’t want to hurt you, I really didn’t. I’d still like to be your friend. But if your not in love with someone...’
‘You can’t force them to love you,’ he finished for her.
And now he knew the horrible truth. It was over. There was no going back now, no second chance or “Let’s try again” as in a crumbling marriage. When he got home he flaked out on his bed and sobbed again, and spent most of the afternoon going over and over what was said.  Eventually, he dragged himself to his feet and telephoned Pauline, leaving a message on her answerphone.
‘I’d sooner be your close friend than lose you altogether,’ he said ‘Maybe we could have a picnic at the seaside. No strings attached. Ring me.’

IN EPISODE FIFTY-TWO

Ted’s dons his rail uniform as another gesture and Barry struggles to make sense of what’s happened.


Episode Fifty-Two  Homepage