Chapter 04: Too Late
Sunday started better than Saturday had finished. I woke up, determined to be positive. But the day went down hill fast.
I wallowed in self-pity. I tortured myself with thoughts of Ken and Beth. Maybe I should go to Spain and take out my anger on Ken. No, that was Jean's job.
I thought 'do some cooking, Tim, you've got to eat properly, and learning to cook would be a start.' I burnt my fingers getting a casserole out of the oven. It tasted bloody awful.
It took me ages trying to get the washing machine to work on half-load. In the end I gave up and did three shirts as if they were a full load.
I went to the supermarket. I gave up on the cooking idea, only for a week or two of course, until I get adjusted, then I'll get back to it. So I bought loads of microwave meals for one. Then I felt bitterly ashamed and embarrassed as I waited to check-out. I felt everyone in the shop need only look at my trolley to know that I was a cuckolded husband.
The only bright spot was that Phil phoned in the evening. Just checking on how I was. But he was kind, and he let me talk about Beth and how much I missed her. Even in my misery, and even when talking to my best friend, with whom I should be honest, I made sure that he got no real idea of the true story of Beth and Ken from me. I didn't like that, but let her feel the shame of telling them.
I went to bed thinking that maybe that was my revenge. Making her have to be honest with everyone on what a bitch she really was. She wouldn't like that.
But she got her own back in the small hours, haunting me with images of her and that bastard.
---
Monday wasn't bad.
I was greeted at work by Dave. As soon as he came in he put his head round my door, just to make sure I was OK (or maybe checking that I was there at all).
I began to realise that I probably was way off key with everybody on Friday, but no one said anything. I guessed that Dave had said enough for everyone to at least respect my privacy. Everyone that is except Stella, Perry's secretary. She came by my desk with a pained look on her face "I'm so sorry to hear about you and Beth. We've worked together for so long, Tim, I remember you joining as a junior analyst all those years ago. So, if there's anything I can do, If you'd like to chat it over, you know, get a woman's point of view."
I think that just confirmed what I already thought of Stella. I don't like her, and I don't think I ever have. She was always patronising, and she's had real difficulty with me as I rose through the ranks, and she had to start treating me as the senior manager I was. She was also one of the hubs of the gossip mill. Well, at least I know where I stand, everyone in the building will know within an hour of Stella knowing.
I went and saw Perry about Greg Dickens of ITP. He didn't know what it was about either. Maybe Neil had mentioned my name. Apparently Neil and this Greg Dickens had met on Thursday last week. I left it with him to sort out.
I wasn't in a rush to go home that evening, there was nothing to go home for. So it was about quarter to seven when I got into my car in the car park. Just then my phone rang, I could see from the little screen that it was Beth's parents home number calling. My heart missed a beat. What was she going to say? Did I want to even answer it?
I hit the talk button, "Hello."
"Hello, Tim? This is George here."
"Yes, George?" A wave of relief came over me.
"You might like to know that your wife is here after you threw her out. Now Mary and I don't want to interfere, but I have to say, whatever is going on between you two, no decent man calls his wife all the names under the sun and throws her out in the street late at night. We thought you loved her. Mary and I even became quite fond of you. We were obviously mistaken in our judgement." And then he rang off.
I sat in my car, staring at a brick wall through the windscreen. I was stunned. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what I should do. I got out of my car and went over the road to the pub. I walked up to the bar and ordered a double whisky. Only when I had taken a healthy gulp did I sigh with a huge release of tension.
And then there was a voice behind me "Does that feel better?"
I looked round, it was Alice. "Oh hi there. I've just had an absolute stunner of a telephone call. I needed a quick reviver."
"I'd heard that it wasn't all moonlight and roses in your life. Sorry about that. Do you want to talk?" she asked.
I looked round. There were no colleagues in sight. "You in here by yourself? Or are you waiting for someone?"
"No, they just left. You came in here in such a storm that I doubt that you even saw them. I was the only one that was brave enough to wait and find out what the problem was." She smiled, and put an empty glass down on the bar.
"Sorry, do you want another one of those, whatever it was?" I remembered my manners.
"Only if you fancy talking. I don't want to pry, but I thought you might like someone to talk to."
I thought about it, but I didn't really know Alice, I liked her and got on well with her, but I didn't feel like opening up to her, or not now, maybe another time. But it did make me think I wouldn't mind talking to Phil. "Well, I'll happily buy you a drink. But I think it better that I just sort out some of these things in my own head."
"Well then, why don't you finish up your drink. Then you can give me a lift up the High Street. It'll make a change from giving me a lift down the road always."
And that's what we did. I dropped her at what is known as the Bank Corner. Apparently she had a flat around there somewhere. I went home to a miserable evening, thinking about Beth and what she is telling everybody. I didn't ring Phil.
---
Monday night was just as bad as Sunday. I woke several times to the writhing of Beth and Ken in sexual ecstasy.
Tuesday I went into work with a determination that I was going to run my life from now on. I needed to sort out whether my marriage was repairable. I doubted it, but I had come to realise that there were questions to which only Beth could give me the answers. There was a mounting piles of things that I needed to say to her. I now had a deadline of 14th July. By then we had to know whether we were going to be splitting the CD collection or not.
I sat at my desk. I didn't want to phone her. I didn't like getting calls from her, out of the blue. I wasn't sure that making them to her would be any better. I felt that actually talking to her would only emphasise the gulf between us. I was going to have to email her. I know it was cold and impersonal, but that's the way I wanted it. I composed the email,
Beth, I want to talk to you. Suggest the Red Lion, tomorrow evening at 21:00. This is not reconciliation, but it may be a tentative first step, and anyway there are things you need to know. Please confirm that you can make it. Tim
I read it and read it again, full of indecision. I had to get the words exactly right: I want to talk to you? I'd like to talk to you? We need to talk? I left it as it was and hit the send button.
I had no idea when she would receive it. She may not even be looking at her private email. But that was an advantage of email, at least I could prove I'd tried.
When I came back from lunch, there was a reply:
Dear Tim, Thank you. I'll be there. All my love, Beth
Who's she trying to kid? All her love! Maybe this week, but she couldn't say that last week!
At the end of the day I went to the pub with Dave. He had an orange juice. I was surprised until he told me he was off to the gym. "You should join, Tim. It would do you good."
"You must be joking."
"Seriously. I know that, on the very odd occasion, when some girl has withdrawn from our relationship prematurely, I .."
"You mean when one dumped you?"
"Well, yes. But I'd rather think of it as a discrepancy in our immediate life goals and development." He said with a smile. "Anyway, a good work out session really does help ease the stress and anger that all gets tied up inside." He inspected me from head to toe, "I should think that a simple, intensive daily work out for about a year should do the trick."
"I don't think it's for me. I've always felt that there is something slightly narcissistic about gyms. I've never been to one in my life." I just couldn't see myself doing it.
"Well you ought to. For a start, it's something to do in the evening, and I bet you haven't got a very full social diary at the moment. Also, if you do end up back on the market, it might help if you had a bod that ain't too repulsive to the opposite sex."
I hated to admit it, but there was something in what he said. I certainly could do with something to do in the evenings, I couldn't always go to the pub. And being a bit fitter wouldn't do any harm. And the experts did seem to think that exercise does help with stress.
"OK. I'll dig out some kit and bring it into the office. Take me with you next time you go."
"Oh, you can't just come along anymore. You have to have a full induction. To check you out and do all the health and safety routine on the machines." He finished his juice.
"Well OK, book me in for one of those."