Part 2
So now here I was, nearly six months later. We hadn't got round to divorce yet but were permanently separated -- both living in apartments far enough apart to ensure we needn't see each other any time soon.
I got up that Saturday morning feeling better than I had in years and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror with approval. I'd managed to give up smoking, cut way back on the booze, I'd lost thirty pounds and started cycling to work. I had all my own hair and teeth and I was looking... well, OK for an older guy. I felt relaxed and calm. I even felt a little optimistic.
Finding nothing interesting to wear I decided on a trip to the mall -- maybe pick up a few shirts, some shoes, a new jacket. It was time to start being me again, not some sad, damaged recluse.
The stores were busy but I found what I wanted quickly, got it all bagged up and with time on my hands grabbed a coffee and settled down with a newspaper at a pavement table outside a small café. Twenty minutes later, as I folded the paper and threw a tip onto the table, a familiar voice came my way.
"Hi Bill... how's it going?"
I looked up to see Celia. We hadn't spoken since the pointless call I'd made to her that terrible night.
"Celia. Hey... good to see you. You're looking well!"
And she was. She was a couple of years older than Jen but looked younger than his ex. The wrinkles were there, sure, but they were more a product of sunshine and laughter than the frown lines that Jen wore. The two of them hadn't really got on that well even though they considered themselves close friends. With Jen and 'the girls' it was a group mentality thing -- all solidarity when they were together but plenty of bitching behind backs. Jen had always wanted to be the group's Queen Bee but she tried way too hard. Celia always got that job with the most minimal of effort.
"I saw you across the street -- thought I might join you but I guess you're just leaving..."
"Yeah I... well no. I mean I'm not in any hurry. Come and sit down -- be good to catch up."
We were still there an hour later having covered work, the election, house prices, kids and the usual fare. Then I asked her how Frank was and she looked down at her lap, suddenly tense. She glanced at her watch.
"Listen, if you're not especially busy, well... guess what... nor am I. What do you say we get a bit of lunch somewhere?"
She was smiling again, despite the stress behind her eyes, and it was an honest smile. She clearly had more to say and I realised I was truly enjoying -- for the first time in years -- the company of a beautiful, grown-up woman.
"Yeah sure... why not?"
I led her to a busy tapas bar I knew, overlooking a crowded square and we found a quiet table on one of the terraces. As we finished ordering she asked if I wanted wine. I opted for water.
As the waiter left she looked at me squarely. "So, you were asking about Frank."
"Yes. And you evaded the question. I take it things aren't so good..."
"You could say that. It's over basically... time to move on. We're getting separated too... like you guys."
"I see... can't say I'm surprised... What does Frank feel about it?"
"He doesn't know... not yet. Apart from my lawyer you're the first person I've told."
"Really? Why me?"
"Because you've been here... where I am right now. I honestly felt sorry for you when it all caved in with you and Jen. She treated you like dirt and I happen to think you didn't deserve that."
I stared at her and smiled. I was moved by what she'd said, having assumed all these years that Jen and her friends were much tighter than that, despite their backbiting.
She looked down at the table, toying with a napkin. "You do know she was screwing Frank don't you?"
I paled. "What? No... Jesus... I had no idea... fucking bitch... When was this?"
"Oh, ages ago. And not for long. It was that time she did a bunch of design work for him -- he had some new venture needed websites and such. Remember? He paid her well over the going rate -- 'mates' rates' he called it... said he knew you guys could do with the money."
"Christ... about eighteen months ago, yes. You're sure? How did you find out?"
"Frank told me. He wanted me to know -- everything. I'd made it clear that I was ready to turn a blind eye to his cheating but that wasn't enough for Frank. You need to understand how much he enjoys humiliating people, Bill..."
"Well then... I guess him and Jen had plenty in common..."
Celia looked around briefly then leaned across the table, her voice lowered.
"Thing is, he still always wanted me... You know, in twenty-odd years of marriage we've made love virtually every day. Well, I say 'made love'... For the past ten years we've just 'had sex'... But Frank wanted me most of all when he'd been with some slut, especially just after in fact. He'd come in drunk and wake me up, stinking of booze and cheap perfume. Then one time he... oh."
She flushed and looked away as the waiter arrived with a basket of bread and my water. I looked at her staring out over the bustling square and wondered how much more she had to tell. I called the waiter back.
"Hey -- I think we'll change our minds about the wine. A bottle of house white right away... thanks..."
Celia sighed as he disappeared. "I'm sorry Bill... this isn't fair. I'm dumping all this on you too fast..."
"It's all right Celia... I can see you need to talk. And it seems I need to listen. I want to know what the fuck happened to me."
She nodded slowly, satisfied. "You're right, Bill. It's the only way. It's just a bit surreal I guess... we're sitting here in the sunshine on a Saturday afternoon. Everyone's chatting about work, friends, sport... and we're dealing with pain, betrayal, lust... It's a pretty... well, sordid story I'm afraid. And detailed..."
