Cait
To do:
- Start 5:2 diet again. Plan out meals.
Breakfast: Boiled egg. Stick of celery. Black coffee.
Lunch: Cup of miso soup.
Supper: Steamed white fish and one floret of broccoli.
- Items lost: will to live.
When I got up, I saw that the shared bathroom was full of wet towels and splashes all over the mirrors. The beds in Dad’s room and Jed and Martin’s were unmade.
Downstairs, the kitchen looked as though a bomb had hit it, with dishes and glasses left from Martin and Jed’s post-TV, late-night snacks. The breadboard was covered in crumbs, and the butter had been left out so it had gone soft. The utility room was full of un-ironed T-shirts, jeans, sheets and shirts, apart from the clean pile I had ironed yesterday. Although Dad had managed perfectly well on his own for a year, since he’d moved in, he’d assumed I would take the role of my late mother and do his laundry, cooking and cleaning. The whole house needed hoovering, and although Matt had promised to help, his back was still troubling him so no joy there.
I went through to the sitting room to find that it was occupied by four men in dressing gowns. Plates of toast and half-drunk cups of tea littered every surface. All, including Yoda, were watching a Star Trek rerun with the sound turned up loud so that Dad could hear.
‘Clearly no one’s taken any notice of my list,’ I said.
‘Chill, Mum,’ said Jed. ‘It’s Saturday. Come and watch with us.’
I glanced over at Matt. He looked sheepish and kept his eyes firmly locked on the TV.
‘Got stuff to do,’ I said, and escaped into my office. In my fantasy, Tom’s house in Majorca is spotless and smells of mountain breezes, there are vases of fresh flowers on tables, bowls of exotic fruits in the kitchen. I had a quick look on his Facebook page. He’d been tagged into a few photos. A wedding. He hadn’t mentioned that he was going to one, but then I realized I had no idea how he spent his time or who with. The photo showed him smiling in the middle of a group of women. Harrumph. And another photo on a terrace with a blonde woman, also smiling. He had his arm around her. Huh. Who was she then? I felt a stab of jealousy. Should I ask him? Had he propositioned her as well? Hmm. I didn’t like the feelings the photos brought out in me.
A text arrived from Debs asking me to meet up for coffee. I texted back that I would, though had a slight sinking feeling that she might want to confront me about Tom.
Did a quiz on Facebook to see which song was written about me. Who could resist that? I got ‘Wild Thing’ by the Troggs. One learns so much about oneself with these online questionnaires. I am wild, a wild thing; I do outrageous things like go for coffee in town.
I texted Tom. Realized I have no idea of what you do every day, what your life is like, who you see. Please send days in the life of Tom Lewis so I can get a picture. Cait. X
*
Matt
I am shaved and dressed, not in my dressing gown any more. Cait came into the kitchen but didn’t even look at me so probably didn’t notice my appearance. She had a jacket on.
‘Wher—’ I checked myself in time. I knew it bugged her when I asked where she was going. Free spirit, my Cait.
‘Have a good time,’ I called as I heard her go out of the front door. She didn’t reply. No matter. I had my own projects to be getting on with.
I spent a happy day in cyberspace researching various sites for the TV series. I wanted to do one programme about people who had achieved great things after fifty, so spent a few hours reading about people who had started late in life: writers, artists, politicians, entertainers, sportspeople. The lists were endless and inspiring. People who hadn’t let their age define them, who had dreams and aspirations and they’d made them happen. If the series went ahead, it would be an interesting programme to make, plus could be a good section in my book of lists for Cait.
Cait’s father, Louis, appeared at the door. ‘Got a minute, Matt?’ he asked.
‘Sure, come in.’
Louis came in and sat on the chair opposite my desk.
‘Did you need something?’
Louis shrugged. ‘Not really, just wanted a chat.’
I turned off my computer and gave him my full attention. ‘All ears.’
‘I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I don’t think living here is working for me,’ he said.
‘OK. You mean you want to go back to your house?’
‘No. I’m going to let Jed and Martin have that. I’m going to stay and then live permanently at Lorna’s.’
‘Lorna’s? OK. Er … does Cait know?’
‘Not yet. That’s just it. I don’t know how to tell her. I know she worries about me, and what it means to have me here, but I need my independence. Lorna’s doing work on her house, splitting it into two. Perfect for me – an ex-GP next door, a fantastic garden, and two dogs that remind me of my old Brandy. I can walk them when I want. So I’d have company if I chose but time alone too. Being here has made me realize, I have my own way of doing things, my own routines.’
‘Sounds ideal, Louis. So what’s the problem?’
‘I don’t want to upset Cait. Don’t mention it just yet.’
‘I won’t.’
‘And you? How are you getting along?’
‘Actually OK. I was a bit lost to begin with—’
‘Understandable.’
‘But I’m starting to see things differently and view this next chapter not as a void but an opportunity.’
Louis nodded. ‘I remember when I first retired. I didn’t know what to do with myself, but after a while, you see it as liberating. All my life was about obligations, and suddenly I was free of them. You make sure you enjoy it all. Have a good think about what you’d like to do and make sure you do it.’
‘I will. I’m starting to see things that way already. No more having to wear the suit, adhere to fixed times – as you say, liberating.’
*
Cait
In town, I popped into the abbey to say a prayer. I noticed other women dotted about on other pews and wondered if they were asking for guidance as to whether they should run off with their ex-lover.
I came out feeling peaceful. In the square next to the abbey, a skinny opera singer with an out of tune voice was singing ‘House of the Rising Sun’ by The Animals. I had to resist the urge to go and put a bag over her head and then push her over. Anything to get her to shut up.
So much for my recently found peace. I went and put a few coins in her hat. Didn’t push her over.
*
‘So how’s it going?’ asked Debs, once we’d ordered coffees and croissants in the café in the square by the Pump Rooms. ‘I was very concerned about you after what you told us at our supper the other night.’
‘All good.’
‘OK,’ Debs said, though she didn’t look convinced. ‘And how’s your fairy book coming on?’
I pulled a face. ‘Not so good. I killed them off with turbo-vibrators.’
‘Forever?’
‘Maybe. Probably. The story needs work and I’m not sure I even want to do it any more. By the way, you didn’t mention that I’d been working on anything to Matt when he came to help you with your brochures, did you, Debs?’
‘No, of course not – but maybe you should.’
‘Why?’
‘Sounds like you have a lot of secrets from each other at the moment. How is he?’
‘A lot happier lately. He’d actually had a shave and had got out of his dressing gown by the time I left this morning.’
‘And have you heard any more from Tom?’
‘No. It was just a brief catch-up really. I won’t see him again. He was my past, Matt is my present.’ I was aware that this was probably the first time I’d lied to Debs. ‘Seeing him again was just curiosity, really.’
‘What’s he like now?’ I felt myself blush and prayed that Debs wouldn’t notice.
‘He’s lived an interesting life, doing photography, painting. He’ll be going back to LA soon.’
‘But didn’t you say that there was still something between you?’
I laughed, probably a bit too quickly. ‘We always got on and it was nice to see him, but really we’re very different people now to when we were in our twenties.’ I decided to try and change the subject. ‘What about you? Had any more dates?’
Debs rolled her eyes. ‘I went on one last night. Almost enough to send me back on the hippie trail. He didn’t look at all like his photo and was really boring. We both knew it was a non-starter, that’s partly why I wanted to meet up with you today. I know how hard it is to find a decent man, and after what you said the other night, I feel very worried that you might lose Matt.’
‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because you blush when you talk about Tom, so I know there’s something going on, and because you told us things aren’t going well with Matt.’
‘We’ll get through it.’
‘Matt is a good man; don’t lose him because of a bad patch or do anything you’ll regret. Retirement for a man is a huge period of adjustment.’
‘Lorna made it work when Alistair retired, and so will Matt and I.’
‘They retired with pensions and savings, that must have made things easier. No offence, but I know you and Matt don’t have their resources, and that must put an added strain on you.’
‘We’ll get by.’
‘Well, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know. In the meantime, I think you should tell Matt about seeing Tom.’
‘I think that’s a terrible idea. The last thing he needs is to feel threatened by an old lover of mine.’
‘But you just said it was innocent. If it really is, then why not mention it to Matt? It would take the secrecy out of it and maintain the trust.’
I sighed. ‘You’re probably right. Let me think about it. I’d have to pick my moment, though.’
‘I just don’t want you to make a mistake you’ll regret. If you tell Matt, he could never accuse you of betraying him.’
I nodded. She was right. If it had been anyone else who’d got in touch, I probably would have mentioned it to Matt. Maybe I would, one day, but not this week.
*
Matt
Time for a heart-to-heart, manly discussion, I thought on my way to meet my brother in town early evening.
‘Cait and I have been looking for a counsellor,’ I said when I’d got to the pub and Duncan had bought us two beers at the bar.
‘What for?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Counselling you say?’
‘Yeah. Marriage guidance.’
‘You going to do it?’
‘Don’t think I have much choice. We’ve seen a couple but didn’t feel they were right, one more to go.’
‘Ah. I get what you’re doing. Going along with it. Good tactic. Agree to everything, say you’re sorry a lot even if you’re not quite sure what you’ve done. Women seem to like that.’
‘Well, not exactly. I am prepared to give it a go if we can find the right therapist.’
‘Nah. You either get on or you don’t. Did you see the game last night?’
‘I did.’
‘Gregson played a blinder.’
‘He did. Did you ever try it?’ I asked.
‘Try what?’
‘Counselling – with your ex?’
‘Me. Nah. Load of bollocks. When it’s over it’s over, no need to pay to have a slanging match with some bearded hippie acting as referee. Is it over with you and Cait?’
‘I don’t think so, but she’s not happy.’
‘Women never are. Probably hormones. If they’re not premenstrual, they’re postmenstrual or menopausal. Buy her some flowers.’
I should have known it would be useless to try and talk to Duncan. He had two failed relationships behind him and now lived alone in a flat on the edge of town.
‘Right. Thanks.’ Hopeless, I thought. No wonder he’s single. Time to contact my old mates.
*
On the way back from the pub, I bumped into Debs coming out of a wine bar. She looked pleased to see me and a little drunk.
‘Hey, Matt, how’s the project coming along?’ she asked.
‘Good. In need of work still but it’s progressing.’
‘You off home?’
‘I am.’
‘How about a nightcap before you head back? We could talk about the series a bit more.’
‘I …’ I was about to say no but thought, why not? Debs was so helpful before. I had nothing to lose. ‘Sure, why not?’
Debs grinned and pointed back to the wine bar she’d come out of. ‘Come on then, first round’s on me.’ She linked her arm through mine and led me into the bar where we found a quiet corner.
‘So, how’s it going?’ Debs asked after we’d ordered a bottle of wine.
‘Fine. I’m thinking of doing one programme on people who have had success late in life. Could be inspiring.’
Debs put her hand on my arm and looked deep into my eyes. ‘I meant with Cait.’
‘Why? Has she said something?’
Debs hesitated. ‘No, course not – well, a little, but I know that every relationship needs a bit of work sometimes. That’s why I gave her the counselling session vouchers. Did she tell you about them?’
‘Ah yes, she did mention them.’
‘It must be a big adjustment being home full time after being out at work for so many years.’
I nodded. ‘We’ll get by.’ I wondered if Cait had mentioned our two futile attempts to find our own therapist. It didn’t sound as though she had, so I decided not to say anything either.
‘I also thought having sessions might give you some insight into the emotional side of your retirement journey for your TV series,’ Debs continued.
‘Really? How?’
‘Many couples stop really talking, take each other for granted. If you went along, you could see it as research and maybe at the same time get something out of it yourself.’
‘Yes, good idea.’ But not if you’d met the two therapists we’ve seen so far, I thought.
‘Have you got anyone you can talk to?’
I laughed. ‘Duncan, my brother, though he’s a fat lot of good – about as much emotional intelligence as a potato.’
‘Haven’t you got a close friend to confide in?’
‘I …’ I thought about my old freinds. I used to be able to really talk to Tony, my mate from university. ‘Actually no, Debs, not at the moment.’
‘It only takes one.’
‘You’re so right.’ I’d get in touch with Tony first thing in the morning. ‘One friend can get you through anything.’
Debs was looking at me with an intense expression that made me feel slightly uncomfortable. Oh Christ. I hope she didn’t think I meant her. Backtrack, Matt, backtrack. ‘Enough about me. What about you Debs? How’s things in your life?’
Debs grimaced. ‘Hasn’t Cait mentioned my long list of date disasters?’
I shook my head. ‘Disasters?’
‘Dates. They’re either too old, too short or too boring.’
‘I would have thought you’d have a queue of men lining up for you.’ I indicated the crowded bar. ‘I’ve seen a few men check you out already.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. You’re a great-looking woman. Who wouldn’t be interested?’
‘Not the ones I want,’ she said, and gave me that intense look of hers again. ‘And to tell you the truth, Fabio leaving me knocked my confidence.’
‘His loss. He was an idiot.’
Debs looked pleased at my reaction. ‘That’s kind of you, Matt, but let’s not ruin the night by talking about Fabio.’ She raised her glass. ‘A toast to the future and new possibilities.’
‘To new possibilities,’ I said as I raised my glass. I had to admit, it felt good to be sitting in a bar with an attractive companion who appeared to be enjoying herself every bit as much as I was.