Cait
There are three men and a cat at the island in the kitchen. Martin and Jed in their dressing gowns on stools, eating toast; Dad, dressed and shaved, standing and leaning on the surface, and Yoda licking the remains of Jed’s bowl of cereal.
‘Ah, there she is,’ said Dad when I came in. ‘Make us a cup of tea, love.’
I picked up Yoda and placed him on the floor, put the kettle on and surveyed the scene. Jed glanced at the mess then me and shrugged.
‘Where’s your dad?’ I asked him.
‘Said he was going shopping for food,’ said Jed.
‘Food? But the car’s still outside?’
‘He said he was going to walk.’ What is Matt up to? I wondered. Maybe he had taken it on board and was making an effort to share the chores. Good for him – but out walking for a second time in two days? What was that about? I’d ask him later. In the meantime, I had a list in my hand. I waved my piece of paper at the assembled crew.
‘OK, lads, some ground rules,’ I said. ‘I’ve made a list.’
Jed laughed. ‘Mum likes a list,’ he said to Martin. ‘When we were kids, she used to make them for us before we went to school; we had to check off the items before we went. Lunch – tick. Gym stuff – tick. School books – tick.’
‘Sounds very sensible, Mrs Langham,’ said Martin.
‘Call me Cait. Now. Here’s the list. I’ll read it and pin it on the fridge so you can all see it. OK? You tidy up after yourself, even if you’ve only had a snack. Make your own beds. Change your own sheets. You keep the bathroom clean, put wet towels in the laundry. You do your own laundry. You don’t put empty cartons or jars back in the fridge. You help with the household chores, and those include cooking and cleaning.’
‘It’s like having your mother back,’ said Dad.
‘This doesn’t apply to you, Dad. You’re a paying guest. This is for Matt, Jed and Martin.’
‘We’ll contribute,’ said Jed. ‘So, if we’re paying guests, does that mean we’re let off doing the chores?’
‘Maybe when you do start to contribute, but you can’t do that if you haven’t got jobs, can you?’
‘Fair point,’ said Jed. ‘OK, hand me the rubber gloves.’
I pulled a pair of Marigolds out from under the sink and handed them to him. He immediately blew one up, held it over his head and made clucking noises like a chicken. Dad and Martin cracked up then, one by one, they sloped off to their rooms, leaving the kitchen surfaces covered in plates, cups, knives and breadcrumbs. I stuck my list to the fridge door anyway.
Matt returned a few moments later looking breathless. He dumped a carrier bag full of food on the counter. ‘Supplies,’ he said. ‘I went to the farmers’ market. We need to up our vegetables to five a day. And I’d like to try the Mediterranean diet.’ He patted his stomach. ‘This has to go. I got us some Vitamin D as well. It’s good for keeping bones strong.’ He pulled out some leaflets which he handed me. They showed lists of classes available locally. ‘And I’m thinking of joining a t’ai chi class.’
‘T’ai chi?’
‘Yes. I got the leaflets at the café the other day. They have all sorts of good stuff up there. Pilates and yoga, but lots of other activities as well. I thought I’d go for t’ai chi because it’s good for flexibility and balance.’ Matt stood taller. ‘I thought I might do a few sessions of Alexander technique as well to improve my posture. Apparently, you have to imagine you have a helium balloon coming out of the top of your head and a lead weight pulling on the bottom of your spine. Something like that but, see, it makes you stand taller. Try it.’
Matt started putting the shopping away, then picked out two cans of beans from the cupboard, which he used as weights for an arm exercise.
‘Are you having an affair, Matt?’
He laughed. ‘As if. Just want to get fitter, that’s all. I thought you’d be pleased.’ He went over to the fridge and saw the list. ‘Ah, chores, excellent.’
‘Yes. Now we have a house full. Er … did you just say excellent?’
‘Yes. All good for keeping you moving.’ Matt studied the list for a moment. ‘Put me down for the most active. I’ll do the hoovering, window cleaning, bed changing—’
‘Are you on drugs, Matt?’
‘Nope. I just want to pull my weight, that’s all.’
‘And you haven’t forgotten we’re seeing a counsellor at two.’
Matt grimaced. ‘Not forgotten.
*
We drove in silence to Bradford on Avon where the first counsellor on the list had a room in a health clinic. The place had good reviews on the Internet and I was surprised that I’d managed to get an appointment so swiftly. However, now that we were on our way, I couldn’t help feeling apprehensive.
‘We don’t have to go again if it doesn’t feel right,’ said Matt once we’d found a parking space near the clinic.
‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘Like hairdressers, you have to find the right one.’
‘Or builders. Always get three quotes.’
‘Exactly. I’ve lined up two more sessions with different counsellors over the next ten days and if we don’t like any of them then we can rethink the plan.’
‘Agreed,’ said Matt.
On entering the clinic, we were told to take a seat in reception until we were called. As we waited, I looked at the other therapies on offer that were advertised on a notice board – acupuncture, homeopathy, aromatherapy. It was a place similar to Debs’s centre but the plain décor gave it the look of a doctor’s surgery, unlike the elegant and scented sanctuary that Debs offered, but the plus was that it was far enough away from home to not bump into nosey neighbours.
Matt read his newspaper as we waited and I closed my eyes and tried to do a calming breathing exercise. Breathe in, breathe out. Oh god, what have we got ourselves into? What if the therapist can mind-read? What if she gets me to reveal something I don’t want to? Breathe in, out.
I opened my eyes when a cry of pain came from the other side of a door marked Acupuncture.
‘Are there acupuncture points for marriage problems?’ Matt whispered. ‘Might be less painful than having to talk to a counsellor. We could still make a run for it.’
Too late, I thought, as the stern-looking lady behind reception peered over her glasses and called our names. ‘You can go up now,’ she said. ‘First floor. Room two.’
We made our way up and into a light room with three plastic chairs set out and a coffee table on which was a box of tissues.
Our therapist’s name was Lucinda Hartley. Nice name, I thought as I took a seat and told myself to be open-minded and hopeful that at last we were taking positive steps.
A pale, skinny young girl with a nose ring and long henna’d hair came in. She looked about sixteen and was dressed in a black T-shirt and skirt that needed ironing. Probably got either a drug problem or an eating disorder, I thought as she took the third chair.
‘I’m sorry but this room is already booked. We have a session here,’ I said.
‘With Lucinda Hartley?’ she asked.
I nodded.
She smiled brightly at us. ‘That’s me. You must be Matt and Cait.’
‘Er … yes, we are.’ I felt my heart sink and didn’t dare look at Matt. The girl was young enough to be our grandchild.
She leant forward and looked at us earnestly. ‘I’m very happy you’ve made the brave decision to come and take a step towards greater closeness. Well done. Before we start, have you any questions?’
Where’s the way out? I thought, as Lucinda continued to smile at us.
Matt cleared his throat. ‘I have a question. Could you tell us a bit about your methods?’
Lucinda nodded. ‘I take my lead from my clients in the first session to try and feel out what the best approach is, then I use a variety of methods, some hypnotherapy, some visualization, some goal-setting.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘So what do you feel might be a good approach?’
Lucinda leant over, clasped both my hands, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A minute later, she did the same to Matt. He looked over at me and crossed his eyes and I had to suppress the urge to burst out laughing. Lucinda sat back, closed her eyes again and began to sway a little. I glanced over at Matt. He rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
After a short time, Lucinda opened her eyes. ‘OK, I think I’m getting a feeling for what’s going on here.’
‘You are? Really?’ Matt asked.
Lucinda nodded. ‘Yes. I sense discord. I sense an absence.’ She looked sad at this.
Well, that much is true, I thought. ‘So what do you suggest?’
‘Love,’ said Lucinda. ‘If you’re to get anywhere, you have to learn to love yourselves; only then can you love others.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Matt. ‘And how do you propose we do that?’
‘You could start by acknowledging your best points individually then as a couple. Remember your best times together and try and acknowledge the positive. Today is just a get-to-know-you session, but what I would urge you to do is to write down five good things about your day every evening before you go to bed. You’d be surprised how much better you’ll feel by the end of the week.’
‘Good things?’ I asked. ‘Like something we’ve enjoyed? Or do you mean something good about ourselves?
Lucinda looked confused for a moment. ‘Er … both,’ she said. ‘The two are sometimes inseparable. If you feel good, you tend to be more loving and also attract more love.’
‘That sounds like a tremendous idea,’ said Matt. ‘But first, Lucinda, a bit about you? This is a get-to-know-you session for us too. How long have you been practising?’
‘Oh, about four weeks.’
‘Have you had many clients?’ Matt persisted.
‘I’ve just started and a few friends have let me practise with them, but you’re my first real clients.’
Ah, so that’s why I got an appointment so easily, I thought.
‘And when did you finish your training?’ Matt continued.
‘About this time last year, but I took a break to go travelling before I settled into work.’
‘Ah,’ said Matt. ‘Like a gap year?’ Lucinda nodded. ‘Good for you. And was it hard to find a job?’
‘Not really,’ said Lucinda. ‘My aunt owns the clinic here so let me have the room.’
‘Ah, your aunt,’ said Matt. ‘That’s marvellous.’
‘And are you married?’ I asked.
‘No,’ said Lucinda. ‘But I did eight case histories of people who are when I was on my course.’
‘Eight?’ said Matt. ‘And what did you learn?’
‘About how important communication is,’ said Lucinda.
Matt continued to grill her and ask how she felt about what she’d learnt. She didn’t seem to get that he’d turned the tables. She was a sweet kid with her heart in the right place, but no way was I going to open up to her about my relationship with Matt. The session was a waste of our time and we burst out of there forty minutes later like two teenagers bunking off school.
‘I am sorry,’ I said when we were on our way home.
‘No need,’ Matt replied. ‘You weren’t to know. So, five things you feel good about?’
‘One, we’re out of there. Two, we’re on our way home, er …’
‘Three, in a peculiar way, it was bonding because we both totally agreed that she wasn’t the one,’ said Matt. ‘Four we’re still speaking after our first session and five … er … it gave me a good laugh.’
*
I got home to find an email from Lorna.
From: [email protected]
How’s the ‘revive your marriage challenge’? Any progress?
Any word from Tom?
LX
*
From: [email protected]
Had our first counselling session. Therapist was a child so no progress really, though Matt is behaving very strangely. Disappearing out for walks, says he’s going to join the gym, do t’ai chi, go on a diet.
Jed plus boyfriend is back. Dad’s moved in with us.
Tom sent photos of his house and studio in Majorca and invite to spend a couple of days out there.
CX
*
From: [email protected]
Good for Matt. Sounds like progress to me. Men work in mysterious ways but sounds like he is changing or attempting to. Re. Tom. So, he’s got a fancy house? So what? You could go and stay somewhere fabulous with Matt as part of your save-your-marriage challenge.
Lorna. Killjoy and the voice of reason. Sorry.
X
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected], [email protected]
Thought you might like to know how my last date went last week. Sorry, long email but you’ve both been out all day and not picking up your phone messages and I need to write to GET IT OUT of my system.
Met Colin the Courgette King for lunch in the farm shop out at Winsley.
Glorious day, good mood, tra-la-la. I arrived ten mins late so not to appear too keen. Dressed in jeans and red silk top, hair loose – I know you like a visual.
Colin was already there. He stood up as I reached the table. Un point for good manners, I thought as I sat down, but I could tell in an instant that he wasn’t my type. He had the look of a weasel plus he was shorter than he’d said in his profile. Being five foot nine, I like a man to be at least my height, if not taller. Ah well, best get on and get it over with, I thought.
This is how it went.
‘Hello, Colin, I’m Debs.’
‘Well hello, Debs. How are you today?’ he said and ogled my cleavage.
‘Good thanks. Er … shall we get a drink?’
‘Good idea, I like your style,’ he said, and summoned the waitress. ‘In fact, let’s get a bottle, start as we mean to continue.’
After ordering drinks, we sat in silence for a few moments.
‘So, tell me all about your vegetables,’ I said in an effort to get the conversation going. For ten minutes, I was subjected to my own personal talk on soil preparation, the right kind of compost and importance of mulching. Fascinating.
‘May I say how lovely you’re looking today, Debs, though not what I was expecting.’
‘Who or what were you expecting?’
‘I don’t know, but not someone like you.’
‘In a good or a bad way?’
‘Oh good, you’re hot.’
And you’re not, I thought as I looked around and wondered how long I would have to continue before I could escape.
‘Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? How long have you been single?’ I asked.
‘Few months.’
‘Had many dates?’
‘Oh lots.’
‘Not worked out then?’
‘I think I must have been waiting for you. So, tell me about yourself.’
‘I’m recently separated. I live in Bath, run a health centre offering alternative therapies—’
‘Alternative to what?’
‘Homeopathy, aromatherapy, reflexology, massage—’
Colin’s eyes lit up at the word ‘massage’. ‘I can see we’re going to really get on.’
‘What star sign are you, Colin?’
‘Star sign. What’s that then?’
‘Astrology. When’s your birthday?’
‘January the fifth. Don’t tell me you believe that crap they put in the magazines.’
‘It’s not all crap. If astrology is done properly, it’s very precise.’
‘If you say so. Load of baloney as far as I’m concerned.’
Well, this is going well, I thought.
‘So what’s Debs short for?’
‘Penelope.’
‘Penelope?’
‘No, I was joking. It’s short for Deborah. So what are you looking for in a partner?’
‘Er … someone fit, to have a bit of fun with, if you get my meaning.’
‘I’m beginning to.’
A waiter came over to take our orders, but I didn’t want to delay the agony by having lunch. ‘Just the glass of wine for me, thanks. I’m not that hungry.’
‘You not eating? Dieting eh? Good for you, girl. I like a girl who doesn’t give in to getting fat. So yes, let’s not waste time on lunch … what are you doing afterwards?’
‘I have to go back to work.’
Colin got out a key and held it up. ‘Sure you can’t bunk off for a few hours? I’ve got a room booked just down the road. I like to be prepared. You look like a girl who might be open to an adventure.’
I burst out laughing. ‘You’re very sure of yourself.’
‘Have to seize the day at our age.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I said. I wonder if there’s a window in the bathroom, I could escape through?
‘I got you a present,’ said Colin, and handed me a carrier bag.
I took a peek inside. Stockings and suspenders.
‘And what am I supposed to do with those?’
Colin winked. “Wear them. For me.’
‘Er … would you excuse me for a moment?’
‘Little girl’s room?’
I nodded. He flicked a finger at me as I got up. ‘Missing you already. Are you going to put on the stockings?’
He can’t be real, I thought as I made my way to the cloakroom where, thank god, there was a window. I opened it as wide as it would go, hoiked myself up onto the ledge and began to clamber out. Halfway up, one leg on the sill, I felt mean. I’d hate it if someone did something like this to me, I thought; one of my mottos is to ‘do unto others as I’d have them do to me.’ I’m not a coward. I climbed down off the ledge, went back to the table and sat down.
‘So lovely lady, are you ready for some afternoon delight?’ Colin asked.
‘I am, Colin, sadly not with you. I always feel it best to be honest and … well, I don’t feel the connection.’
A flash of anger crossed his face. ‘But I’ve paid for the room and … your gift.’
‘A tad presumptuous on your part and you can have your gift back.’
He shrugged. ‘Your loss, doll,’ he said, and made a grab for the carrier bag.
‘I’m sure it is.’ I got out my purse and put down five pounds. ‘To cover my drink, and now I really do have to get going. Good luck, Colin, with your next date.’
He was barely listening. He was looking on his phone, probably for his next date. I was no longer of interest.
As I drove away, I thought, that’s it. No more Internet dating. I am giving up. It’s not working. Am I doing something wrong? Am I unlovable?
Love Debs
I felt bad for Debs. She was trying so hard to meet a man. She was a great woman and friend and I’d been holding out on her, not introducing her to a man who I know she’d like, and keeping secrets from her by not telling her I’d been to see him. However, despite my guilt, I still couldn’t – wouldn’t – introduce her to Tom.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected], [email protected]
Don’t give up. Mr Right is out there somewhere. It’s not you. Colin just wasn’t the one for you.
C
X
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected], [email protected]
Ditto what Cait said. Don’t give up, Debs.
I have some news too. I’ve had the builders in re. putting in a kitchen on the west side of my house and walling part of it off with a view to renting a third of the house. Plan is to find some nice professional or couple to take it. Good solution all round. I think my kids will be happy about the compromise. I get to keep the family home; they won’t have to worry about me being alone.
Lorna
X
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected], [email protected]
Excellent idea, Lorna.
Debs. Mr Right will come along when you least expect him. You never know, he might just walk into the spa tomorrow.
CX