Cait
‘Who’s next on the tour?’ Matt asked as we set off for our third marriage-guidance meeting.
‘Gina Marshall. Older lady. Maybe our age.’ She had good reviews on the Internet, but after our last two encounters I didn’t hold out much hope.
‘Still can’t relate to my age,’ said Matt.
‘Me neither.’
‘What if we don’t like this one either?’
‘We take to drink and drugs.’
‘Sounds like a plan to me.’
‘Good, because I can think of more enjoyable things to do on a beautiful June morning,’ said Matt as he looked up at the cloudless sky.
We got to a village on the outskirts of Warminster and found the address we’d been given. It was a twee-looking place, with white cladding and a garden planted country-style with delphiniums, lupins and foxgloves at the front.
A woman came to the door, along with a Jack Russell that began to hump Matt’s leg. Great start, I thought as she pulled the dog off.
‘Hi, I’m Gina. Sorry. This is Bertie. He’s a bit over-friendly, as you can see.’ She had frizzy white hair, round brown eyes, a chubby small frame and was dressed in a stylish, navy smock dress. She exuded warmth. She led us inside and into a room at the front of the cottage where she indicated that we should sit on a sofa covered with a crocheted patchwork throw and turquoise cushions. The room smelt of a recent log fire, had one wall lined with shelves that were crammed with books. On others hung what looked like Aboriginal paintings; a stone Buddha sat on a low table by the window. The place had a cosy feel and I immediately felt at home.
‘I know you told me a little on the phone about how you want to work on your relationship, but how are you feeling about being here?’ Gina asked after she’d settled herself in a chair opposite. ‘Let’s start with you, Matt.’
I heard him groan. I knew he was thinking, not another ‘how do you feel’ session.
‘Apprehensive, if I’m honest.’
Gina turned to me. ‘And you, Cait?’
‘Also apprehensive. I don’t really know what to expect.’
Gina nodded. ‘Understandable. Embarking on something like this can be daunting. How about first I tell you a bit about how I work? I like to think of myself more as a life coach than a therapist, so rather than analysing feelings, I work more with making goals and thinking about what you’d like to change in your life, why and how. We might look a little at what’s been holding you back from achieving what you want, but I aim to help people move forward from where they are, not spend too much time reliving and picking over the past.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said and glanced at Matt. He nodded.
Gina laughed. ‘But I am going to ask a bit about your past so I can get to know you. How about we start at the beginning with when you two met. What first attracted you to each other? Matt?’
Matt thought for a few moments. He smiled. ‘We met at a friend’s party in London. Cait’d recently returned from India. She was brown, glowing and beautiful, with long hair down her back.’ He laughed. ‘She wore ankle bracelets and toe rings.’
‘An old hippie,’ I said.
Matt nodded. ‘Nothing wrong with that. She seemed different from other women I knew at that time. Interesting. We had a good conversation about her time away. She was fired up with ideas on how to change the world.’
‘Is that when you got together?’ asked Gina.
‘Oh no. It was some time after that. Years, in fact, when we met again, purely by chance, remember?’
I nodded.
‘It was in a park in North London. A Saturday. I think you’d started teaching by then, hadn’t you?’
I nodded.
‘I took her for supper at an Ethiopian place. We got on well. I liked her view on life; she made me laugh as well as think. We began dating after that.’
‘Cait?’
‘As Matt said, we met at a party. That’s right, I’d just come back from India. I was drifting, not sure where to go and live, what to do. I liked him but, at that time, I wasn’t looking for a relationship; in fact, I didn’t know what I wanted. Later, though, when we met up in the park, Matt made an impression. He seemed safe, solid.’
‘That makes me sound boring,’ said Matt.
‘No. Not at all. You seemed dependable, yes, but not boring. You knew where you were going, were so full of energy and ambition. I liked that. It was a nice contrast to the men I’d met on my travels, many of whom had been drifting as I was. I think you’d just started working in TV, had a ton of ideas and confidence.’
Matt sighed. ‘What happened to that man?’
Gina turned to Matt. ‘Has something happened to that man?’
‘Age,’ said Matt. ‘No work. How long have you got?’
Gina looked at her watch. ‘About forty-five minutes, or more if you choose to come back.’ Matt laughed. I could tell he liked her. I did too. ‘We’ll get back to that either today, Matt, or in another session. But back to you, Cait. Go on about when you first met.’
‘At first, on my return to the UK, I didn’t want a relationship—’
‘Why was that?’ asked Gina.
‘Oh … disillusioned by men.’
‘And why was that?’
I felt myself blush. If I carried on I’d be telling her all about Tom. ‘I guess my head was full of romantic notions back then and the men just didn’t measure up.’ I laughed. ‘I blame the Brontës and Jane Austen. Maybe I was looking for a Darcy or a Heathcliff.’
Gina nodded. ‘Darcy OK, but Heathcliff was a head-case.’ She was watching me very closely and I blushed again then cursed myself. She’d know there was something I wasn’t saying and I prayed she wouldn’t keep digging.
‘I know, but he and Cathy in the book had such a passion.’
‘Ah … passion, soul mates,’ said Gina. ‘Is that what you wanted?’
I shrugged. ‘I thought I did but … well, it wasn’t happening. By the time I met Matt again, I’d changed my mind about having a relationship, and maybe I didn’t have such romantic expectations.’
‘That sounds as if you made do, compromised,’ said Matt. He didn’t look happy. ‘You lowered your expectations and settled for me. A compromise.’
‘No. Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. No, I wanted someone like you. Someone I could trust who wouldn’t let me down.’
‘Had someone let you down, Cait?’ Gina asked, and I noticed that Matt was also watching me closely.
‘Uh … sort of. I was in my twenties and most of the men were immature; their idea of commitment was to stay the night.’
‘So no one special?’
‘No. No, in fact in India I was in an ashram and we were all celibate.’
‘Really?’ said Gina. ‘Had something happened to make you go and live in an ashram?’
Inside I was squirming, but determined not to talk about Tom, despite Gina’s digging. ‘It was the time of love and peace. We were all looking for God.’
‘Woodstock and all that,’ said Gina and smiled. ‘I loved that song by—’
‘Joni Mitchell,’ I said. ‘Or Crosby, Stills and Nash. By the time I met Matt again, I’d been re-evaluating everything and I was ready to settle down. Bumping into him was good timing, and it wasn’t a compromise, Matt, you mustn’t think that. I just didn’t know what I wanted before then.’
He inclined his head slightly, as if to say he’d heard what I’d said but he didn’t look convinced.
‘And what do you hope to get out of the counselling?’ asked Gina. ‘What’s brought you here?’
I looked over at Matt. He gestured with his hand that I should answer. I took a deep breath. This was hard. Talking to friends about our problems was bad enough, but it was worse coming out with things in front of a complete worse. ‘We … I … we seem to have grown apart lately.’
‘Lately being months or years?’ asked Gina.
‘Months,’ said Matt at the same time as I said, ‘Years.’
‘Which?’ Gina asked.
Matt shrugged. ‘I’d say a year. Since your mum and Eve died. Wouldn’t you, Cait?’ He looked at Gina. ‘It’s Cait who’s unhappy.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘You’re perfectly happy?’
‘Well, of course I’m not,’ said Matt, ‘not when I can see that you’re unhappy. What I was trying to say is that I am, was, happy with the relationship, with you.’
‘When did your mother die, Cait?’ Gina asked.
‘Over a year ago, and then my best friend Eve.’
‘Oh, I am so sorry, that must have been very hard for you,’ said Gina. She looked at me with such kindness, I felt myself well up. ‘Still raw is it?’
‘I …’ I was surprised that my grief was so close to the surface. I thought I’d dealt with it by shutting it away and didn’t want to break down in front of her and Matt. I sat up and took a deep breath. ‘I’m coping.’
‘Have you given yourself time to grieve?’
‘I … Sort of.’
‘I meant have you let it out?’
I shook my head. ‘Not really. There didn’t seem any point, it wouldn’t bring them back and it was too painful to even think about either of them, so I decided to get on with life, fill my days and distract myself.’
‘Block it out?’ Gina asked gently.
‘I suppose so. I didn’t know what else to do. It felt too devastating to dwell on what had happened, so I decided to get on, keep busy.’
Gina nodded. ‘It can be scary and overwhelming. Also when a parent dies, friends and family always ask how the remaining parent is and quite right too but as a daughter, the loss of a mother is also great.’
I felt myself well up again. What she’d said was true but no one had expressed it before. All the enquiries after Mum had died, had been ‘how’s your dad doing?’ and I’d chosen to put my grief aside and be strong and cheerful for him.
‘People also have different timescales on grief. Some shut themselves away and howl from day one, others not for months or sometimes even years. You’ll know when you’re ready.’
‘If ever,’ I said.
Gina nodded. ‘Yes, but it can take a tremendous amount of energy to maintain the wall needed to keep that level of emotion inside. When you’re ready, I’d encourage you to let some of it out.’ She smiled kindly at me. ‘Whose idea was it to come to counselling?’
‘Mine, though it was a friend who suggested it initially,’ I replied. ‘It felt that we had nothing to lose. You see, we don’t talk any more, not really.’
‘What do you want to talk about, Cait?’ asked Gina.
It felt as if she was directing all the questioning to me. I thought: Matt’s the problem, isn’t he? He’s the one who doesn’t communicate. Why doesn’t she interrogate him a bit more?
‘Oh I don’t know. Everything.’
‘Have you talked to Matt about the loss of your mother and friend?’
‘I … No. Not really. He knew what was happening and there was nothing he or I could do about it. He couldn’t bring Mum or Eve back.’
‘Do you think you might have blamed him for not being able to fix it?’
‘Blame him? Heavens no. Why would you say that?’
‘As you said, your attraction to him was because he was dependable, a man who could be relied upon, but he let you down this time.’
I shook my head. ‘No, of course not. I didn’t think that at all.’ At least I don’t think I did, I thought.
‘And what specifically do you want to talk to him about now?’
‘Why we’ve grown apart.’
‘OK. How does this manifest?’ asked Gina. ‘This feeling that you’ve grown apart.’
‘Oh … we’re just not close any more. Even before Matt lost his job, we lived separate lives—’
‘You just lost your job, Matt?’ Gina remarked.
‘A few months ago.’
‘Sorry, you were saying, Cait, you lived separate lives?’ said Gina.
I nodded. ‘We had done for years. Polite but separate, and if we did spend time together, it was watching a new box set.’
Gina smiled knowingly. ‘You and a million other couples, but go on.’
‘And now, Matt’s home but he never lets me in. I’ve no idea what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t tell me when he’s feeling down, but I know he is; like lately, I know he hasn’t found it easy not going out to work.’
‘Talk to Matt,’ said Gina.
I turned to Matt. He looked uncomfortable. ‘I remember when we first met, we had so much to say to each other: plans, goals, shared aspirations. Our two boys came along and of course that was a shared responsibility, so much to plan for, schools, futures and so on, and you were a good father, still are. Those years were great, but since they’ve gone, it feels like we don’t share a goal any more. For years, you were in Bristol working, home at weekends, both of us busy-busy. It felt like we were sharing a house but not a life any more, and then it all changed, now you’re home all the time. I have no idea what your plans are but I can see you’re not happy. You don’t talk.’
Matt looked thoughtful as he listened to me. ‘Cait, has it ever occurred to you that you don’t talk to me either? Gina’s right, you never really opened up to me about the death of your mum or Eve. You never want to spend time with me, and when we are together, I feel I’m in your way. You don’t talk to me, apart from to tell me what I should be doing or to criticize something I’m doing or wearing. The only feelings you communicate are those of disappointment or dissatisfaction.’
What he’d said came as a shock. ‘I—’
‘And yes, I may have been uncommunicative of late, but I don’t talk to you about other stuff that’s going on because I don’t know what’s happening myself, still don’t. I don’t know what to say. It’s been a strange and uncertain time and I didn’t want to burden you with any of my concerns.’
‘Sticking your head in the sand didn’t help.’
‘Go back a minute, Cait,’ said Gina. ‘Have you really told Matt how it’s been for you since he retired? Or have you swept it all under the carpet too? Or, as you say, stuck your head in the sand?’
‘I think I’ve told him pretty clearly how I feel.’
‘Did you hear that Cait was so unhappy, Matt?’
‘Oh yes. I know she doesn’t like me being at home all day, in her space, and before that, I thought we were doing OK – muddling along, a phase. Marriage goes through many phases, that’s the contract – for better or worse, isn’t it? I guess we have different approaches. When I’m unhappy, I go quiet, but Cait says she wants to talk it out, presses me into doing the same but I don’t think she gives a lot away either; for example, what’s behind her dissatisfaction. But when I see she’s unhappy, I don’t press her. I think she’ll talk when she’s ready. Plus her way of dealing with a bad time, like after her mother died, was to fill it with things to do, to keep so busy that she didn’t have space to think about it – joining book clubs, the choir, a walking group, out with friends. I’ve tried to respect that. On the other hand, when I’m faced with a rough patch, like after losing my job, I wanted to retreat, to think things over. Recently, I became aware of how empty my life is outside of work, and that’s been confronting and something I need to look at but I didn’t want to rush into anything. I needed time to acclimatize. Still do.’
I hadn’t heard Matt say so much for a long time, and it made sense. We had different ways of dealing with things. And he was right, I had kept him out. I thought about Tom, my attempts to write, the hole left by Mum and Eve’s death, sadness at seeing Dad age and concern for his happiness, fear about getting older, life being short and wasting it. I’d kept all of that to myself. I was as guilty of not communicating as he was.
‘Cait, have you tried to say how you really feel?’
‘I … I thought I had, but OK, maybe not, not until recent weeks. But when I have tried, I’ve met a brick wall. He’s refused to discuss anything.’
‘Because I feel like I’m continually under attack,’ said Matt. ‘All you ever say is that we don’t talk, that we need help, our marriage has gone stale. How am I supposed to react to that? You haven’t really let me into your head. You put up a wall, too, after your mum died. Your wall of being busy. You’re always hiding up in your study or off out somewhere.’
‘That’s not unusual,’ said Gina. ‘After the death of a loved one, people often try to lose themselves, distract themselves from the pain of grief by finding a different self or rediscovering an old one. Some try to numb themselves with alcohol or drugs, some have affairs; others fill their time with work or keeping busy – anything to avoid what’s happening inside.’
What Gina said rang true and I hoped that I wasn’t blushing.
‘That makes sense,’ said Matt. ‘And you lost two people you loved, Cait.’
‘My attitude was to try and move on, live the life they would have wanted me to.’
‘But somehow shut me out,’ said Matt.
‘You had your own life, work, plus you were never at home.’
‘That was then. I am home now.’
‘And did Matt agree to come here, or did you pressurize him?’ asked Gina.
‘I agreed to come,’ said Matt. ‘Cait wanted to come so yes, that was partly it. I wanted to see if it would help, but listening to what she’s been saying and hearing it all again here, I’m beginning to wonder if she’s right and it is too late for us. We’ve been living separate lives for so long, maybe we would be happier apart; it sounds as if she certainly would be.’
I was surprised by Matt’s outburst. I’d been pushing him to open up for so long and, now that he had, what he had to say was totally unexpected.
‘Do you want to say anything in response, Cait?’ Gina asked. ‘Do you want to break up or heal the rift? Get beyond the walls that both of you say the other has created?’
I felt confused. I had always felt that I was the restless one who would choose to leave or not, and yet he’d just said that maybe we’d be better off apart. ‘I don’t know. We’ve been together a long time, I don’t want to throw that away, but I’m also aware I’m getting older, we both are, and I don’t want to drift into some boring existence.’
‘Me neither,’ said Matt. ‘I want to be appreciated, not always seen as lacking and letting Cait down. I think we all want to be wanted and loved, to get home and see our partner’s face light up. I can’t remember the last time I saw that; all I see is annoyance or exasperation and, to be honest, I’m not sure I deserve that.’
‘You say you’re both home every day,’ Gina said. ‘Do you ever go out together?’
‘Out? Er …’ I said.
‘When did you last go for a meal or walk with each other?’ She directed the question to Matt.
‘I can’t remember, can you, Cait? Ages ago. Never. As I said, Cait has a busy life; there’s not a lot of room for me in it, apart from to be a scapegoat for her dissatisfaction.’
‘You sound angry, Matt,’ said Gina.
‘I guess I am. I hadn’t realized before, but our house is my home too. It’s my space too, and I often feel unwelcome there.’
‘And what do you do when Cait’s out?’
Matt laughed weakly. ‘I’ve been looking for work. As Cait said, I’ve recently lost my job and not sure where I’m going from here. I’m not quite retired but not employed either.’
‘How are you finding that, Matt?’
‘Not easy. It’s a young man’s game and there aren’t many opportunities for anyone my age. It’s been tough. I feel I’ve lost my purpose as well as my identity. I’m used to routine, knowing exactly what’s expected of me; now I feel I’ve been cut loose. I’m drifting, but unsure in which direction, and it isn’t helping that my wife doesn’t want me around.’
‘Where’s all this coming from, Matt?’ I asked.
‘I’m not sure. I didn’t even realize I was feeling this way myself until I said it, but maybe you’ve been right all along, Cait. Maybe it is over and you’ve seen what I hadn’t.’
Gina made some notes. ‘It can’t be easy for either of you, and no need to decide anything major so soon. How about I have a think about how we can progress from here? It’s a big life-change when one or both of a couple stop working. You need to redefine the boundaries, your living contract, who does what and so on. I think we could have our next session on that – what’s expected in the home. Cait, when you were at home and Matt away, I’d imagine you took care of the running of the household?’
I nodded.
‘It might be helpful to redraw the plan on that, then. Is that acceptable to you both?’
‘It is to me,’ said Matt. ‘We did make a start of sharing the chores, then I did my back in so I feel like a spare part. I’d like to help more but, so far, it’s felt as if I just get in the way or do it wrong. Cait has her way of doing things, but I live there too. I have my way of doing things as well, just not always her way.’
‘OK, we’ll look into that. Cait, maybe you could write a list of everything that needs doing – shopping, laundry, cleaning, etc., and we can divide it up next time you’re here.’
I laughed. She made it sound so simple.
‘Then after that,’ Gina continued, ‘we’ll look into what your goals and aspirations are.’
‘OK,’ I said, and Matt nodded.
‘Had either of you made plans for retirement?’
‘No,’ we chorused.
‘Then I suggest a session on that too. Rather than just drifting towards it, have a think about what you’d like. How you see yourself in five years’ time, and what you’d like to be doing. That way, you direct the course rather than just letting it happen to you.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Matt.
‘May I ask how are your sexual relations?’ Gina asked.
Neither of us answered.
‘Difficult question?’ asked Gina.
We sat in an awkward silence with neither of us wanting to admit the truth.
‘Uncomfortable,’ I said finally; ‘an uncomfortable question because we don’t have sexual relations, haven’t had for months.’
Matt looked as though he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.
‘We can work on that,’ said Gina, ‘if you’re both willing.’
Matt looked at me and made a helpless gesture with his hands.
‘OK with you, Matt?’ asked Gina.
Matt nodded. He didn’t look happy.
‘I always suggest four to six sessions at least, if you’re willing to commit to those, then we can look again. It can take a while to make any lasting difference, so maybe we’ll leave the session on intimacy until towards the end so that we have time to get more comfortable with each other. In the meantime, I’d like you to do some homework. Don’t worry. Nothing too serious. I want you to spend more time with each other.’
I laughed. ‘Not possible and now that my job has come to an end too, we’re together twenty-four hours a day.’
‘Possibly, but being in the same house doesn’t mean together. I want you to go on a date together. Go out, take a walk, have a meal, go to a concert, spend some quality time with each other, but first you’re going to spend a little time identifying what would be an enjoyable date. Do you think you could do that?’
Matt and I looked at each other. ‘I guess so,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ said Matt. ‘Definitely.’
Gina smiled. ‘Just because you’re partners and have lived together a long time, doesn’t mean you can read each other’s minds, so be specific. Make sure you let each other know what you’d like to do, so it really is a mutually agreed outing that you can both look forward to. Often one can plan the kind of time you would want for yourself, not your partner. So find out what you both want. Make it a pleasure, not a chore. Maybe make plans over a glass of wine; get the local magazines that tell you what’s on in town, then write down your idea of the perfect romantic day or evening. Keep plans in the realms of possibility. Put in lots of details. Make a list, because I hope it won’t be a single event. It’s important that couples keep dating and doing things together outside of the home.’
Make a list. I was beginning to like Gina even more. She was talking my language.
‘When you’ve chosen what you’re going to do, get ready in the same way that you probably used to when you first met. Remember, the long soak in the bath, choosing the outfit—’
‘Making an effort,’ I said.
‘That’s it,’ said Gina. ‘Book a taxi so neither of you has to drive. And you could make the same kind of plan for a perfect weekend, perfect birthday and anniversary.’
What Gina had suggested sounded positive and pleasurable and I could see that Matt had visibly relaxed since the beginning of the session.
As we were leaving, Gina handed us a sheet of paper. ‘A little more homework. It’s a “let’s get to know each other” questionnaire. No need to look at it now, you can do that when you get home over the next week. It will only take ten minutes or so.’
‘Do you want us to bring it back?’ Matt asked.
‘No,’ replied Gina. ‘It’s for you. Have fun with it.’
*
‘Wow. She was amazing. What did you think?’ Matt asked as we got into the car.
‘Confrontational. She comes on pretty strong and doesn’t miss a thing.’ I felt disturbed and anxious. Gina’s probing about Mum and Eve had stirred up some deeply buried part of me that I didn’t want unearthed.
‘I liked that. I liked her. Which part felt particularly confrontational?’
‘Oh … all of it I guess.’ I didn’t want to elaborate. I was also still in shock from hearing what Matt had said. He’d done a complete turnaround and I needed time to think about the fact he’d agreed it might be an idea if we went our separate ways.
Matt seemed buoyed up. ‘It’s true, we haven’t had a night out, just us, in years. What would you like to do? A movie?’
‘But then we couldn’t talk. How about a meal out somewhere?’
‘Yes, but could be expensive. We need to watch our finances.’
‘Needn’t be. OK. A walk in the country.’
‘Then a pub lunch. How does that sound?’ said Matt.
‘OK but not very romantic.’
‘I think romance is a state of mind,’ said Matt. ‘It doesn’t have to be love hearts and candlelight. If you’re with the right person, anywhere is romantic. In our early days, just being with you was enough to make a place romantic. It never mattered where.’
‘That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in years, but in our early days?’ I sighed. ‘What changed?’
‘I guess we have. I’m sorry, Cait, I realized back there that I hadn’t been listening to you. No wonder you’ve been angry and frustrated. But in the session, I began to get what you’ve been saying recently. Things have changed. We’ve changed. We’re not the same people we were when we met. Thing is, do we have a future together? I always thought yes, never questioned it, but you’ve made me do that, and now that I feel I’ve finally heard how strongly you have been feeling, I will consider separating as an option if that’s what you want. You’re right. We are going into a new chapter. Who knows how long either of us has left. Ten years? Twenty? Muddling along, as I’ve always been OK with, probably isn’t enough. It would be a half-hearted way of living the rest of our lives. We have to make the right choices and make the most of the time we have left, and whether that’s together or apart, we must decide.’
‘You’ve changed your tune.’
‘Only through finally listening to you. I’m sorry I haven’t before.’
Bluff called. Mine, I thought as we drove home.
*
There was a private message from Tom on Facebook when I got home.
‘In answer to your question about how I spend my days. Every day is different. As you know, I am in between countries at the moment. This week, spent time with solicitors (boring). The sale of Mum’s property is almost through. Lot of paperwork. Final clearing of her house (sad). I spent too much time looking at old photos. Other days, I eat out with friends. I do some photography for relief from endless admin. Some days I go looking at exhibitions to see what’s new. I spend a lot of time having fantasies about what I’d like to do with you, to you, have you do to me (nice).’
Hmm. What friends? I wondered.
‘Too general,’ I wrote back. ‘Who are the friends? What do they do?’ I restrained myself from asking, are these friends female? Even though I’d been out of the dating game for decades, I still knew not to be too inquisitive about other women.