Foreword
There is not much sex in this story, but it is very much in the loving wives tradition. Actually, unlike many stories in this category, it's about a loving wife, although you may beg to disagree. If it's not for you, move on. My thanks are to the long-dead Chekhov, who wrote a great short story called The Duel.
One: Bad news day
Stan breathed out the dead air of the clinic and paused at the entrance to enjoy the sun on his face. He'd promised himself a coffee when he was done and crossed the hospital car park to the neglected shopping arcade where two boys on BMX bikes aimlessly circled the security bollards and raced ahead of him up the alleyway showing off their wheelies. He followed slowly, each step an effort of will. Some time later he was staring into the grimy window of a dry cleaner's. Time to get a grip.
It was bad news as expected and he was numb, his mind trapped in the labour of processing what had been said. He should have brought Suzie with him after all and he tried to remember why he hadn't; his wife would have remembered everything the consultant oncologist said, made proper notes and asked better questions. Now he looked at the boys jumping a broken paving stone and was overcome by emptiness and disgust. It seemed as if no time had passed since he too was an aimless schoolboy waiting for life to start. Now it was finished. Looking round this suburban waste ground he might as well already be ashes. There wasn't even a cafe.
It was bladder cancer, which had metastasised, with secondary tumours in his hip and chest. The plan was for urgent surgery on his bladder in three days time and radiation and chemotherapy for the rest. The oncologist hadn't tried to talk up his chances. He said they would take stock after the surgery.
"You mean I'll most probably die."
The young doctor nodded. "But you're not without hope. We'll do all we can to manage any pain and give you the best from what time you have left. You have to stay positive."
Stan got a grip and took out his phone. A call to Suzie's work went unanswered and he hung on, silently begging someone to pick up. Come on Suzie, pick up this time. I really need to speak to you. Just this once. The phone was eventually answered by an unknown secretary who said that Suzie was unavailable. He patiently explained that he was Suzie's husband, that this was an emergency and he needed to speak to her urgently. There was a long silence and when the woman came back she was brisk. Suzie was on leave that day; he would have to try elsewhere.
Stan was surprised and momentarily forgot his problems. Suzie was always at work. She never missed a day for illness or anything else. He dialled their home number on the off-chance and listened to it ring until the answerphone switched in. Then he called her mobile. She was never good at answering and he wasn't surprised when it went to her voicemail. Rather than reveal his despair to a machine, he sent a text: "Call me as soon as you see this. Need to speak."
By the time he had reached his car he had a reply: "What's the problem?" Weak as he was, it felt like a blow. Why hadn't she called him? Immediately he phoned, but once more the call went to voicemail. He was feeling very lonely.
Two: Missed calls
Suzie had no reason to feel guilty, but all the same she worried for most of the train journey to London. Why had she not told Stan about the trip? Clifford wasn't her lover; he was her friend and Stan would have found it perfectly reasonable if she'd told him she wanted to help a friend. Her guilt was irrational; she worked hard and had few hobbies; she deserved to enjoy her day out and it was nothing to do with Stan. She sipped the large coffee she'd bought at the station and flicked through a fashion magazine. The rush-hour was past and the carriage was almost empty. Despite her worry, she was having fun, enjoying her moment of leisure. Yes she had risked a little deceit over the years, but she had harmed no one and it was for the best.
She'd met Clifford three years before on a difficult day-release course on company law. They'd worked together on a project once a week for a month and got into the habit of sharing their difficulties with the course and problems at work. When the course was over they continued a fitful conversation, mostly by telephone at work to start with, mentoring one another over legal problems. Slowly this developed into a friendship. Clifford had an alert sense of humour and a rational way of dealing with life which was a pleasant counter to Stan's bull-charge and highly individual approach. Interpretation of contract law began to mix with stories about their lives. Suzie told Clifford about their difficulties finding somewhere to live. Stan always rowed with the landlord or the neighbours and they had to move. In return, Clifford contributed wry accounts of his error-prone love-life, which staggered from crisis to farce while his career blossomed. Suzie looked forward to his communications which, once they ceased to be exclusively about work, became emails sent late at night as a way of winding down. They developed an easygoing banter which they both enjoyed as a diversion from the immediate pressures of their lives.
From the start she knew her feelings for Clifford were unprofessional. He fascinated her because he was so different to the men she knew. Stan was frighteningly sharp and unpredictable; she had to stay on her toes to deal with his mercurial style. Clifford was accomplished, confident and smooth. He never lost his cool or lacked something to say and Suzie found their conversations went much further towards the truth than those with anyone else. It was she who played the agony aunt and asked about his personal life, gratified that he took her advice seriously. He dated wealthy, well connected women he met through work and his love affairs had a swift, predictable trajectory, starting with sparks and a whoosh and ending suddenly for no apparent reason in blackness. She told him it was because he had difficulty committing to relationships, that he couldn't trust others and was happy only when he was in control of a situation. Privately she suspected he liked the fun of the chase and got bored with women after he succeeded. But for a while he would be deeply in love, a man who expressed his feelings openly and with humour, which she liked.
She'd agonised about this long-distance relationship and decided it was alright as long as they never met. Aware of the risks, she could see no harm as long as she stuck to this rule. Stan had no reason to complain. Nobody would be hurt and everyone gained. She and Clifford were opposites. They were close and trusted one another to share their problems, but there was no way anything more than an affectionate, self-supportive friendship could develop.
Suzie was breaking her own rule; she was on her way to meet her confidential friend. But the circumstances were exceptional. Clifford, who had finally married, had emailed in desperation. He'd discovered his wife was having an affair and they had split. He was alone, his pleas for help desperate. Suzie knew she had to respond, even if it caused trouble. Clifford was her friend and it was right that she should put herself out for him.
She could have told Stan without going into the back story of five years' secret correspondence. He only needed to know that Clifford was a work friend. She'd considered it carefully in the way she analysed options at work when faced with a difficult decision. Her conclusion: why take a risk and complicate things with an unnecessary admission? It would be like Stan to leap on some trivial point and get the whole business out of perspective. And anyway, his cussed, gloomy introspection of recent weeks made her unwilling to share her hopes and fears with him.
