Chapter 12 #5
She lies in the pale morning light and tries to remember the nature of her dreams, but other than a few images that are so vague they’re more like sensations than stories, she’s unable to grab hold of any specifics.
But her mother had been in the mix somewhere, she’s sure of that.
Her mother, and the hospital, and Harry.
She picks up her phone and sends him a message, a message which remains undelivered because his phone is still switched off.
Ping me when you wake up, she types. I could do with a bit of a chat.
It’s ten o’clock (nine in England) by the time Harry switches on and replies.
Gimme five, he writes. I need a coffee and a poo first.
She makes herself a fresh cup of coffee and stokes the fire with logs – it’s cold in the cabin this morning.
Harry: Good morning, beautiful.
Wendy: It’s a good job this isn’t a video call because you wouldn’t be saying that at all. I swear I look like I’ve been dragged through a bush, murdered, buried, and dug up again. Plus I really, really need a proper haircut.
H: Well, seeing as it isn’t video, we’ll just pretend you’re looking gorgeous, right?
W: Certainly works for me. How are things in sunny Maidstone?
H: Everything’s fine. Fiona seems to have enjoyed her little trip and is actually smiling from time to time. Todd and Amanda are being astoundingly dull looking at wedding stuff all day and trying to get everyone else interested.
W: You mean dresses and flowers and what-have-you?
H: Yeah. And suits and ties and shoes for Todd. The shoes are very important, apparently. Can you imagine? I can’t believe how traditional our children have turned out. Do you think we went wrong somewhere?
W: Sounds like fun to me. I love all that stuff. And Todd will look great in a suit with those square shoulders of his.
H: Yeah. I suppose so. And you? How are you?
W: I’m OK… Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I know I was a bit…
H: …
W: A bit antsy, I suppose you could call it.
H: Not the word that comes to my mind, but OK. You were shocked. Understandably. So did you want to talk about something specific? Or did you just want to hear my gorgeous morning baritone?
W: Specific. Definitely.
H: Oh. OK, then.
W: But your gorgeous morning baritone is definitely a plus, if that helps.
H: Yeah, it does a bit.
W: So I’ve got two quite full-on questions for you as it happens. Are you on your own there?
H: Um, yeah, I am. But hang on. Just let me… There. Door closed. Lazy youngsters sound asleep in their beds. Go for it.
W: So. Um. Wow, this is hard!
H: …
W: OK. Are you seeing someone, Harry? Actually, it’s OK, I know you’re seeing someone. So I suppose my real question is: is it serious?
H: Oh. OK. Wow!
W: Sorry, but I need to know. I’ve just… sort of reached a point where I have to know.
H: Sure. It’s not a conversation I thought I’d ever have to have on the phone, that’s all.
W: No. It’s not ideal. But this is where we are.
H: Yeah.
W: Yeah?
H: I mean, yeah, OK. As for the question, the answer is ‘no’.
W: No?
H: Yeah. I mean, no, I’m not seeing anyone.
W: Harry…
H: Honest, Wens, I’m not.
W: I really do need you to be honest here, Haz. And I promise not to kick off about it. Well, I promise to try my best.
H: Good. That’s good. But the answer is still ‘no’.
W: OK, then have you been seeing someone? Past tense.
H: That’ll be a ‘no’ to that one, too.
W: I…
H: Really, Wendy. No.
W: I’m finding that hard to believe. Sorry.
H: And yet I can assure you it’s totally true.
W: I felt sure you were.
H: Yes. I know. I picked up on that.
W: Back in… I don’t know exactly. March, maybe? When you started coming home really late every night.
H: Ah. OK. God, do you really want to do this right now?
W: Yes, I think I do.
H: Right. Fine. OK.
W: So?
H: So… In that case, define seeing someone.
W: You see. I knew it.
H: It’s not… I’m not… Look, it’s hard to…
W: To admit?
H: No! Stop it! No, it’s hard to define really. But if you really want to know…
W: And I think we’ve established that I do…
H: Then I was sort of hanging out with someone, in March.
W: And April. And May.
H: Yeah, if you want.
W: Define hanging out.
H: Um, I was, you know… spending time. With one of the supply teachers. She’d moved down from … from up north… and she didn’t know anyone here.
W: Poor her.
H: Don’t be like that. It won’t help.
W: Sorry. Carry on. She didn’t know anyone there…
H: So I started hanging out with her a bit.
W: You want me to believe that’s it?
H: And if I’m being brutally honest, there was maybe a moment when – I mean, you and me, it wasn’t really working, I think we can agree on that, right? And so I thought it might go somewhere with… this person.
W: This person?
H: This woman. It was a woman, you’ll be pleased to hear.
W: Oh good. Yeah, I’m thrilled.
H: But it didn’t. I mean, we were friends, and then we were sort of close friends, and then when…
you know… the thing… between us… when it didn’t come to pass, then the shine all sort of wore off a bit.
I think that happens if you wait too long.
And we did wait too long. Because I’m married. So I wasn’t in a rush.
W: That’s good of you.
H: Wendy…
W: No, I get it. Seriously. I do.
H: And now we’re back to being workmates again.
W: Right. OK. I think I see.
H: But we never… ever… you know…
W: Had sex?
H: Yeah. We never had sex. I promise.
W: Define sex.
H: Ha… Funny. Seriously, we didn’t.
W: I’m being serious. Define sex.
H: Wendy, we didn’t do anything. No matter how you choose to define sex, we didn’t do it. OK?
W: Kissing?
H: No one defines kissing as sex.
W: So you did, then? You kissed?
H: …
W: That’s a yes, then.
H: Christ, OK, sure, we kissed. We kissed a couple of times. And we nearly, you know, went further. But we didn’t. And now it’s over.
W: You sound sad about that.
H: No, I’m really fucking happy about that.
W: Because?
H: Because otherwise this conversation would be a whole different kettle of fish. Because – oh, hang on. We’ve got an early bird here. Just, um, let me move to another room. Morning, Fiona. Yeah… on the phone… No, no, you’re fine.
…
…
…
H: OK, I’m back. God knows why she’s up before lunchtime. Anyway, where were we?
W: You were kissing another woman. And nearly shagging her.
H: But not shagging her. Let’s concentrate on the positives, shall we?
W: OK. Though not doing something’s actually a negative.
H: Funny.
W: Yeah. I’m hysterical, me.
H: You OK?
W: Uh huh.
H: Uh huh, meaning?
W: I need to think about it. Can we put a name to this mystery person? It might make things easier.
H: I don’t think that would make things easier at all. So no.
W: OK, point taken. Maybe not. Do I know her?
H: No. You definitely don’t.
W: Right. OK, then. Oh, one last question on… all that… Is she still around? At your school?
H: Yes, she is. But she’s dating… She’s, um, in a relationship with someone else from work now.
W: Is he married too?
H: No, as it happens, he isn’t. Which is probably why their story has… you know… blossomed.
W: Blossomed?
H: Yeah, you know, worked out or whatever…
W: OK. And how do you feel about all this blossoming?
H: Fine. Relieved.
W: OK.
H: So are we good? Did I pass the test?
W: I’m not sure. We’ll be in touch.
H: You’ll have your people get in touch with my people?
W: Something like that, Haz, yes.
H: So.
W: So… On to my next question.
H: Please don’t tell me there’s more?
W: Yes, I’m afraid there is. Though this one’s more about me than you.
H: Why? Are you seeing someone?
W: No. Most definitely not. No, it’s just… Do you think I’m an alcoholic? Be honest. Be totally honest.
H: Oh, OK. Bit left of field and all that, but OK…
W: Because everyone else seems to think I am.
H: Define everyone else.
W: Fiona, Todd, my post lady.
H: Your post lady?
W: Yes. Just answer the question, will you?
H: If I’m being totally honest: I’m not sure.
W: You’re not sure?
H: No. I mean… I’m thinking about it now, and it’s a bit of a technical question, isn’t it? A bit of a medical one, really. And I’m not an expert. I don’t know the actual definition.
W: Right. OK. I see.
H: Will that do? As an answer, I mean?
W: I suppose. But it sounds like a cop-out.
H: I do think you drink too much, though. Actually, I don’t just think that. I know it. You definitely drink too much.
W: Define too much.
H: Erm, enough to make you… How can I put this politely?
W: I think we’re beyond politely, don’t you?
H: OK, then. Bombs away: your drinking has made you impossible to live with.
W: …
H: And now you’re pissed off with me. That’s the trouble with these total honesty situations. No one really wants honesty no matter how much they say they do.
W: No, I do.
H: Anyway, now you have your answer.
W: That I may or may not be an alcoholic, but that I’m impossible to live with.
H: Yeah.
W: Do you mean that, like, literally?
H: Sorry, which bit?
W: The impossible to live with bit. Or is there still hope?
H: I think maybe if you stopped there might be hope.
W: If I stop being impossible or stop drinking?
H: I think they’re linked. I think one leads to the other. In a sort of strange circular fashion.
W: OK. Do you really mean that, Haz? Because…
H: You’re not crying, are you?
W: …
H: Wendy?
W: No, no, I’m fine.
H: You are. Babe…
W: Maybe, a bit.
H: I’m sorry.
W: Don’t be. I asked. And you don’t think it’s just me, then? That I’ve become impossible to live with, full stop?
H: No, I don’t think that. I mean, you have. But that isn’t you. It isn’t all of you at any rate. I’m not sure I’m making any sense now. But it’s the drink. The drink is definitely part of the problem. Quite a big part, I suspect.
W: You think?
H: Look, Wendy. OK… Take right now, yeah? This conversation. You’re sober, aren’t you?
W: Yeah. It feels awful. This conversation has me gagging for a drink.