Falling off the Tandem

He meant it as a joke I know he did but I’d had enough of it always being at my expense. His idle lip service crazed me and it still does, though these days I don’t take it with a pinch of salt or shrug it off. That constant “what’s he like” face and my eyes rolling to the heaven, took a toll on me and I don’t want to pay that price again.

Looking back that evening was just like any other, no worse, and he wasn’t a bad man, an ok farther but I was trapped in a role I’ didn’t want to play for the rest of my life. I tried to tell him how bad I was feeling but he just laughed it off as light hearted banter. I saw red and instead of cooling off, it bubbled over and in a week I’d left.

I denied the guilt I felt. Leaving just before Christmas was hard on the children and it took a long time for them and me to come to terms with it all. Financially it took a while too; starting at the bottom is always hard, even harder at thirty eight. Motherhood had stripped me of personality, and it seemed employability; eventually though, we made it and now my children were back here living with me. Their farther now puts every effort into fatherhood that I find engaging but rankles me beyond distraction, a form of torture; why practice what I had preached for so long, then not let me be part of it?

 I had spent so many years yearning for us to reap the benefits of our hard labour; him working all the hours and me with the children on my own. Our family and financial outlook had looked great from an outsider’s point of view but on the inside, for me was empty and hollow. Though looking back at it from the outside, Hugh was still a boy even at forty, cocooned as he was from family life, by me.

We’ve moved on and can now talk rather than shout with that animosity we both had over the pain we had received from each other. The children are going from strength to strength. So here I was wondering why on earth I was pounding his head into the washing machine, metaphorically speaking. It was his turn to have the children; which is one of the benefits of splitting up that I enjoy the best, he has just decided that he’s going away. Oh he’s sorry it’s short notice. I slam the door on the washing machine. He does deserve to go away, he looked tired the last time I saw him. There I go again; it’s none of my business or doing any longer. I storm upstairs. Why the hell didn’t he do that when we were together? Going out was only thought of when he was not tired and didn’t have to go to work the next day, so as a consequence we never went out. Picking up my mobile I decide to ring him and tell him I can’t have the children. I was expecting the answer machine and was taken a back when his velvet gravel of deep sexiness came vibrating through¸ again hitting my sensual nerve.

‘Oh! Er, was just getting back to you about this weekend. Sorry I can’t have the children I’m away.’ Letting go was intense, a new experience I was not sure I was ready for.

‘Oh where are you off to?’

‘I don’t think that’s any of your business any longer’ I curtly replied.

‘I was just, oh never mind, I’ll make other arrangements’

‘Ok, then they’ll be ready at the usual time, Ok?’

‘Ya, fine’

I came off the phone in even more of a bad mood. That was such a bitchy thing to do I thought, I had no plans but I hate being taken for granted and just recently he had started to treat me as though we were married still. No it was the right thing to do, I strengthened my resolve. I so wanted to know what was going to happen to Tim and Eve and who was going to look after them. They needed some prime time with their Dad. Since leaving them that Christmas two years ago my guilt found it hard to not know every detail of their welfare. I also wondered (with a degree of jealousy) where was he off to and with whom?

‘Oh god!’ I threw the mobile on the bed. ‘Shit’. Now I’d have to go some where. Not one of my strengths lying, Hugh would sense my dishonesty. He’d ask the children and if they didn’t know he would get suspicious. I tell my kids everything, big mistake, honesty, definitely not the best policy in these situations.

Why should it matter to me any how if Hugh thought I was lying it was my weekend free from the 24/7 shift of motherhood. Surely that month on his own with the children should have made him more respectful of the time consuming nature of children. Guilt, my guilt I put on myself because I’m a martyr, that’s what Grant would say but I’m just living up to what others expect of me. Lord what a rock and a hard place to get myself into.

I rang the only hotel that I could think of. As it turned out they only had a four poster left, due to a soon to be wed couple cancelling. If that was not ironic enough it was the same hotel we stayed at for our honeymoon. I had wanted to stay in the four-poster but we couldn’t afford it or Hugh didn’t want to waste our money, better things to do with our lives he had said, I believed him but at the time he was the best thing I could spend my time and money on.

Now look at me, talk about Billy no Mates, no one to go with or wanted to go with, how life had changed! The strange thing is I didn’t feel weird about it, quite excited really. Now that was wired!

I rang Pip knowing she would put me straight, if she thought it was a bitchy thing to do I would hear it in her stuttered answer. Pip was the best sound board I had ever found in my life. She had this ripple in her voice that would instantly say are you sure about that, her face an even better indicator of her feelings. So I arranged a coffee conference so I could see that all telling face, a truthful insight to the rights and wrongs of weekend visitations.

Our conferences were always at the best farm shop in the county, where the surroundings were calming with perfect coffee and the best selection of cakes that could be had, which made life a better place for a short time. The word “conference” meant urgent but sounded professional and constructive so if we were overheard by colleagues they would think that we were beavering away. To my relief Pip was free at 11.30 for an early lunch. So with the washing out and the house tidy, paperwork completed I joyfully went off to the reckoning.

As I walked in Pip beckoned me over having got the coffees in and we both decided to give the cakes a miss due to swimwear season that will soon be upon us. Time was short so I told all and I could see that I was right. Hugh had to stop behaving as my husband and a new form of respect had to be found. Out of the last month he had not had or seen the children (mostly because of work) and the only weekend he had off he was going to be on his own.

‘Typical, Stan couldn’t see why Beth had been so upset when he had let her down last week. ’ Pip fumed. ‘It’s not easy being a stepmother with no children of your own’

“Stan the man” (which was my nick name for him) had been part of Pips life for the last seven years. He had lulled her into a false sense of security of a relationship of two equals, sole mates a social up-lift to Pips shy side and in the main they worked well together. Stan was more of a child though; as with most men their rufty tufty, ‘deal with it’ image that they gave off, was a social façade.

‘I was glad though; don’t get me wrong Beth is so sweet and if you could choose a daughter it would be her for me. But I just couldn’t cope with those two rubbing up each other the wrong way all weekend again. I need a rest from confrontation; I get enough of it at work. Stan’s a typical man just thinks he can do what he wants because he works full time, where as his ex-wife is only part time. Therefore she has the time and can do everything else; well you know the reshow it goes.

‘Ali, why have you booked that Hotel?’

I shrugged at her obvious and worried question.

‘You have to stop beating yourself up about the breakup you know.’

I was stunned; I was way over it, being divorced now for nearly two years. But her perception in my experience was always spot on. She had seen what I had not, had known what I could not even try to comprehend. Was booking the hotel a Freudian slip of a yearning to go back and start again. I missed the man I married not the one he had become. Or was it I yearned like a school girl for the man and the marriage I thought I would have?

I smiled trying to hide the realisation I had just come to. Pip knew though, I could see it in her eyes and as she bent her head to break our gaze I was grateful. As ever, my perceptive friend left it to me to come to terms with my denied reality. Love and attraction could never be switched off like you do a tap, perhaps I would ever drip for the thought of love and yearn always for the physical reaction I had for that one mans voice and touch. Talk about a no brainer.

This thought made me determined to find a way of getting over this physical hurdle and to find a place to put the love, so no more harm was done to my fragile and broken heart. I was never going to get answers to why Hugh could not act around me as he did with the children on his own and to why he found me a woman to rib and ridicule, than to talk to and enjoy the company of. This week end was the beginning of a new way to see and to treat myself.

As always a woman starts with her wardrobe and a new haircut. The children enjoyed it and excitedly were telling Hugh as I came down stairs. But because I had inconvenienced him, he didn’t look up and his annoyance vibrated through the air. I didn’t need his approval and inwardly I enjoyed the release of the ties I had been bound by him for so long.

Purposely I had dressed to kill. My curvy figure was hugged by the sensuous material like no other I had ever had; actually I had not possessed a dress, a frivolity I had denied myself by the financial constraints I had lived under for the whole of my married life. He could be under no illusion that this weekend I was off the leash of motherhood and a real woman again. I found it didn’t matter whether he looked or not, I was me, ish, the new me anyhow!

As they got into the car, I locked the front door and got into mine. I was shaking and felt nervous and was not sure entirely why. A weekend on your own to read while drinking pimms without thinking what on earth I had to shop for or prepare or anyone to clean up after was slightly different to having an affair with some gorgeous hunk. But beings I was dressed for it, was my body preparing for the excitement? Well I thought it had a bloody long time waiting, not going to happen. A good romantic novel while drinking pimms was all that was going to happen. I laughed at myself as I caught Hugh’s eyes. Now what was his problem!! They were his children and his responsibilities too, not just mine. It was his weekend and my wind down time, which was long over due and much needed.

My phone rattled on the dashboard and I opened the text before I looked at the number the words hit me and I could feel the blood rush out of the wound. “Will stop all maintenance. You obviously don’t need it!” as I read the stunted words a wave of sadness stung my eyes, was I never to have any relinquished guilt of my own enjoyment? Was this reaction due to the dress or that I could afford to go away. I looked up and out of the windscreen to the man I thought needed a rest and would have given anything but my sole to and saw a hard edge to his features which I knew from experience meant that he thought he was on the side of righteousness and beyond all reproach.

I could have crumpled and run back into the house and cried but this was a new beginning for me and sometimes new beginnings were uncomfortable and painful so get used to it! I told myself turned the key and drove the hour to the five star hotel.

I had blanked my feelings by singing loudly to Curtis Stigers whose pure voice was for me, pure sex. After sex came the elation of calmness and once again I was ready to enjoy the indulgence.

I went to the reception feeling slightly silly and very alone. I signed for the honeymoon suite and took the key while glances were avoided expertly by the receptionist; which made me want to giggle as an embarrassed reaction to my outlandish behaviour but I managed to stifle it. I asked if I could have a jug of pimms sent to my room with that and time to read a good book, I found the embarrassment and the looks were worth it!