Chapter 36
Tanya didn’t respond to the Christmas card SJ had sent. Neither had she responded to the birthday good wishes. But on Dorothy’s advice SJ didn’t try to contact her again.
‘The right time to make amends will come along,’ Dorothy told her softly. ‘But there’s no rush, hen. You just get yourself sorted out for now. Get a bit of sobriety behind you.’
So SJ spent the first few months of the New Year writing features she’d got commissioned with some of the editors she hadn’t let down and looking into the possibility of doing more teaching privately.
She couldn’t face going back into adult education; her heart wasn’t in it any more.
She didn’t think she’d get enough students to fill more than one Poetry and a Pint class, but she was contemplating teaching other forms of word craft in a fun environment.
Creative Writing appealed, or Making Shakespeare Fun.
That would be excellent in her room at the Red Lion.
It had just the right atmosphere for studying old plays.
‘I’m also thinking about changing the name from Poetry and a Pint to something more appropriate,’ she told Dorothy, one evening after dinner. ‘Something that’s not quite as alcohol related.’
‘Such as?’ Dorothy looked interested.
‘That’s the trouble, I can’t think of anything that’s not alcohol related – Poetry and a Pina Colada keeps buzzing round my mind for some reason. And the only other thing I can think of is Poetry and a Peanut.’ She sighed.
‘I think you should probably leave it as it is,’ Dorothy said. ‘Pint doesn’t have to mean alcohol, anyway, does it?’
SJ giggled. ‘No, you’re right. If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it – and I do like teaching at the Red Lion. But I’d quite like to do some other classes that aren’t academic as well.’
There were a lot of possibilities. Adult Literacy had always appealed, although she planned to do that on a voluntary basis – just for the sheer satisfaction of introducing people to the joy of reading.
She and Tom had decided to make their separation permanent and she’d agreed to a small settlement, which covered the money she’d put into the house when they bought it.
She’d agreed he could pay it in instalments so he didn’t have to sell the house.
It was the least he deserved, she thought idly, when she went over to talk to him about it one bright evening when the air was balmy with summer.
He looked older and wearier than ever, and she guessed he was still working all hours. Although the kitchen was warm because he’d been cooking, the rest of the house felt cold and unlived in. Outside, the grass needed cutting and the flowerbeds were overgrown with weeds.
They discussed finances and how Ash was and SJ felt more relaxed with him than she ever had in the past.
As she got up to go, she said softly, ‘Tom, I know I owe you a huge apology. It must have been hell living with me. I’m so sorry.’
‘It wasn’t hell.’ He smiled at her. ‘Besides, you weren’t the only one at fault. Who’d want to be married to a husband who was never here?’
‘And who’d want a drunk for a wife?’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, SJ. I never noticed your drinking and hey – I always did like my pub paraphernalia, didn’t I? Some might say I was lucky, I collected the ultimate in breweriana – a real live alcoholic.’
SJ laughed. It was the last thing she’d have done a year ago. And it was the last thing he’d have said a year ago, too. She wondered what had brought about the change in him.
‘Are you seeing anyone?’ she asked curiously.
‘Who’d have me?’ He reddened, and suddenly she knew she was right on target. There was someone else.
Meeting her eyes, he nodded. ‘You always were a mind reader, SJ – pity I wasn’t the same with you – but yeah, okay, there is someone. It’s early days, but I’ve been on a few dates with my boss. She does even longer hours than me, but at least we see each other at work.’
‘Be happy,’ she told him. And she meant it.
As she left Barking and headed back towards Dorothy’s, SJ reflected there were only two people left to make amends to now – Tanya and Michael. She decided to leave this for a while longer.
Summer moved slowly into autumn and one beautiful Saturday in late October, SJ woke up, knowing it would be today that she would go and make her peace. She had no idea why she felt it so strongly, but just that Dorothy, so wise and patient, had been right. Deep down in her bones, she just knew.