Relationships and stuff. This piece just grew in stages and I had no idea where it was going. Probably why it seems circular!
It was difficult for Astrid to stand still. She ached with fear and a sickly foreboding, her hand shook where it gripped the curtain. She longed to be somewhere else not hearing this conversation.
“You say you’re unhappy with me and that Carol makes you whole.”
Astrid nearly choked on the woman’s name. This woman was nothing to her, just her husband’s secretary, but now all had changed. Now, she had entered their lives and their conversations and nothing would ever be the same. With nothing to say, shock choking her every thought, Astrid felt it safer just to repeat what her husband John had just said.
John looked relieved, “That’s it, that’s exactly it. Being with her brings me alive and, you know, between us… there’s always been difficulties”.
Astrid resented how this unknown woman had suddenly entered her marriage, her home, her husband’s thoughts and seemed to grow like a seaweed entwining its tentacles around all that was important and squeeze the life-force out of it. She desperately tried to bring the conversation back to them, to their marriage, to John and Astrid. Even thinking about them brought tears to the back of her eyes, but she desperately blinked them back.
“All marriages have their ups and downs. Things have been difficult recently but I thought we had something special between us.. something worth hanging on to, John.”
She paused and looked at him, eyes over filling, and a solitary tear ran down her cheek.
“There’s really no point in this kind of discussion, its water under the bridge, you know.” John finished with a shrug, as if throwing off a heavy coat.
Suddenly, she realized how far from her he had grown. He was not even thinking of John and Astrid anymore, hadn’t for a long time. He had other thoughts on his mind and he might be here in their home but his mind and heart were elsewhere. Even now he longed to be away from Astrid. She sensed his longing for all this to be finished, for this conversation to be over, completed. An unpleasant task, but one needing doing, like the drains. Her hand was gripping the curtain in a death like grip and seemed to epitomise her desire to hang on to him, to their old life together.
John continued, “I don’t want to look back anymore. I’m thinking of the future now. Carol thinks..”
“And it doesn’t include me”, interrupted Astrid.
John was nearly fifty and completely grey haired, a little over weight, but his countenance was good-natured and, try as she might, Astrid felt incapable of anger. Just a huge heavy sadness that pulled at her lower belly. She couldn’t bear to hear him mention his chosen future with Carol anymore so she blurted out,
“What about the house.. and everything?” She gestured around her. All of it meant nothing but she was desperately fighting to get even this conversation about them and not this other woman.
John had obviously thought things through and was happy to contribute here.
“You can stay here. I’ve found a flat Carol and I will share. It’s modern and close to my work. Of course eventually the house will have to be put up for sale. It’s too big for one, but there’s no need to rush into that. House prices are still rising; even the purchase of the flat is an investment.”
Astrid sucked in her breath. He and Carol had chosen a flat together, bought it, planned their future. John wanted this, and in his usual determined fashion, has set things in motion. She used to love this ‘go getter side of him’ because it was so different from her dreamy thoughtfulness. Career wise it had brought him success, and the construction company he worked for had cultivated this streak, this pragmatic deal done attitude. Bloody investment! Astrid tried to get angry but a sudden weariness overcame her. She sat down and let go of the curtain. It was a bit like letting go of a branch in a deep current and knowing that her life was being swept away uncontrollably.
John was excited talking about his future. It was something he had spent some time planning and now was the moment.
“Carol feels we need to act..”
Astrid held up her hand and interrupted him, “Please, stop.. I’d like you to leave now.”
John looked irritated and ran his hand through his hair, “Listen Astrid, we need to get things sorted, move on financially..”
She found herself suddenly lightened. Any sign that he was discomforted made her feel like she had taken the right direction for some reason. She walked to the door and opened it.
She said firmly, “I’d appreciate it if you went now.”
“Look”, said John, “I realize this is a bit of a shock, but we’ve got to move on, sort out practical things, the children will need to know. I think we…”
Astrid interrupted him again and was delighted that for the first time he had spoken without mentioning that woman. It was a sort of achievement.
“There’s really no point in discussing things. It’s all water under the bridge.” She looked serious and calm.
He was aware that she was using his own terms back at him and felt strangely discomforted. There was a deliberate hurtfulness to that he had not expected.
“Really, Astrid, let’s behave like adults.” His tone was one he used on their children over the years.
She wanted to say something clever and cutting but suddenly more than anything else she wanted him out of the house. This strange emotional current had its hold on her and was sweeping her along faster than even she intended.
“I don’t want to look back anymore. I’m thinking of the future now.” She said in a strangely committed tone.
John became angry, “Now you are just being bloody silly. Cut it out.”
He took out his keys and shook them up and down as he spoke. His growing frustration was tangible. She recognised all the signs of distress and anger - the hair pulling, the key shaking - and whereas before today, she would have felt duty bound to placate, to soothe, to talk things through, today she just observed them knowingly as he continued,
“I’ve got to phone the kids and tell them what’s happened. I’d like to be upfront with everyone and then all of us can move on.”
The words sounded reasonable but Astrid knew him too well. His anger was being kept carefully in check because he wanted to close the deal. Not leave things half finished. Completion, that’s what he wanted. Closure and then his new rosy future. Astrid was determined not to sign up and let her intuition guide her; logic and rational thought seemed beyond call. It was as if her words were on a roll of their own.
“Yes, John let’s behave like adults.”
He looked like he wanted to hit her but she stood perfectly still, looking as if she were having a real conversation instead of a parrot like performance.
“Astrid stop this. We need to talk, sort things out. This will not help. Think of the kids for Christ’s sake. We can make this easier for them. Jill is at university facing her finals and Josh is going through a difficult period with his health. They don’t deserve to be mucked about. This is not some game. People’s lives are going to affected and if we aren’t prepared to sit down and talk things out, it will be much worse for everyone.”
He looked at her hopefully. The kids were his strongest gambit and Astrid could scarcely believe it when she heard herself saying, “Now, you are just being bloody silly!”
John’s tone was of complete disgust. “I can’t believe you, I really can’t. I thought I understood you. I mean 23 years count for something don’t they? But this, this.. I don’t get. Why play such stupid games? I mean it’s all over anyway. Why piss on it too?”
He walked out the open door, stopped in the doorway, turned and gave her one of his rueful good-natured smiles as if asking for a decent response even at this last moment. Astrid understood why he made such a good salesman: he hadn’t given up, not yet. Astrid smiled so warmly at him he responded in kind with his eyes brightening from his fake smile to something more genuine, filled with sudden hope that dialogue could be salvaged against the odds.
Then as she took the door in one hand, she said carefully and clearly, “You know, between us there’s always been…difficulties.”
And in his disbelieving face she closed the door gently but firmly and the wood felt warm, familiar, solid and safe.
