Women of Courage, page 44
Nearly all the rich and famous from Cheshire are here. Roland knows just who to invite, and who to ‘forget’ to invite. Our mansion might not be the biggest in Alderley Edge, but it boasts stunning gardens that spread out around the house like layers on a tiered skirt. The main marquee is stunning, as are the walkways that have been set up to take you from one marquee to another. Sparkling, white fairy-lights adorn every pole and edge of the tents and walkways, inter-woven into garlands of white roses. Everywhere is decorated in white, creating an illusion of a Winter Wonderland. Years ago, I would have been in awe of the fairy-tale beauty.
A band plays in the main tent. The music rocks so loud that every house in the neighborhood could go into their gardens and party along. Brash, that’s Roland again. He’d insisted that speakers be put all over the house and garden so that wherever you are, you can dance.
With heaters throwing out a glowing heat every few yards, it doesn’t matter that the ball is outside, despite it being December the 6th. Immaculate, good-looking, waiters and waitresses carry an overabundance of food and drink around so that guests needn’t bother themselves with fetching it. The noise is uncomfortably loud. I move with practiced grace through the main marquee, greeting and exchanging brief repartee with as many people as possible, trying hard not to shout to be heard. They definitely have to shout at me though, and for the hundredth time I make a mental note to get my hearing checked out. There is something about asking stars to repeat themselves that is extremely embarrassing. Like I’m a fraud amongst the rich and famous which I guess I am, as I only married into it.
By eleven-thirty, a mannequin probably has more expression on their plastic face than I can muster on mine. The last few years of dealing with Roland’s ‘habit’ and his string of affairs has just about left me dead inside. Plus, something has happened to me today, although I’m not completely sure what it was yet. Maybe it’s to do with the fact that I’ve turned twenty-eight? Or maybe, that Roland has bought me a diamond necklace I detest, and I’m irritated because after seven years of marriage he obviously still has no idea what I like?
‘Drink, Miss?’
Momentarily my blurred vision clears as I focus on the waitress in front of me. I force yet another smile.
‘Thank you.’ I lift the flute of Champagne and the waitress makes to move away. Before she can fully turn, I ask her a question. ‘Have you seen my husband?’
The waitress’s face is instantly flushed. ‘No, Miss. Sorry.’ Before I can ask anything else she shoots off into the crowd, her tray of glasses sparkling, and perfectly stable despite the haste.
At midnight, the cake will be brought out and I will be forced to appear happy, as these would-be-friends who are in reality nothing more than strangers will sing happy birthday. Maybe I could feign illness and go to bed early? It seems like the best option, I just need to find Roland and let him know. Smiling and nodding at people, I make my way out of the marquee and into the house.
I pause in the hallway, wondering which way to go. Just then, our housekeeper, Judith, comes out of the kitchen carrying a large knife tied with multiple ribbons that will be used to cut the cake.
‘You’re still here Judith! Please go home. You’ve been working since eight this morning.’
Judith gives a weary smile. ‘I’m just waiting to see you cut the cake, and then I’ll be off.’ The housekeeper might be an employee, but she is actually one of the few people I hold in my affections. Judith and my Nana Dotty are my only two confidants. I don’t know where I would be without either of them. Judith has been a godsend since arriving at the house nearly four years ago. The old staff had looked down their noses at me until I could take it no more and told Roland it was the staff or me. He had begrudgingly let them go, and given a large payment to all three of them. Afterwards, I had taken much delight in hiring a new housekeeper and two gardeners. They had become ‘mine’ and were without exception respectful towards me. The relationship between lady of the house and housekeeper had soon turned out to be something more to me than employer and employee.
‘Do you know where Roland is?’
Judith’s eyes flick towards the stairs before she lowers them quickly. ‘I haven’t seen him for a while,’ she answers. But I’d seen that furtive look, and dread slams down upon me, making my weight of depression heavier.
Without a word I hand Judith my glass, pick up my dress on both sides, kick off my four inch high heels, and start running up the stairs. He wouldn’t be in our bed, not even Roland would do that. So at the top of the stairs I veer right towards the guest wing. My heart’s pounding, like nails hammering into my pulmonary valve, tightening muscles, loss of breath.
He wouldn’t do this to me again? Not on my birthday, surely? I put my hand on the door to the first bedroom. Do I really want to do this? Do I really want to know? Maybe it would be best to just return to the party? What difference would it make? Would I leave him this time? I’ve just about convinced myself that I don’t want to know, when I hear Roland moaning. Anger flushes away my need to hide from pain. I turn the handle and fling open the door. My life’s a flippin’ cliché.
He doesn’t even stop what he’s doing to look at me.
Disrespect! Imitating Marilyn Monroe, I start singing. ‘Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me...’ Roland finally grunts and rolls off the bleached blonde. She at least has the decency to look embarrassed as she pulls the sheet up to her chin.
For goodness’ sake, she only looks sixteen! ‘I’m going to Nana’s. When I come back, we’ll be discussing divorce.’ With that I spin around and charge to my bedroom so I can change, and get out of here as soon as possible. No need to call for a taxi as we have a pile of chauffeurs downstairs waiting to take guests home.
I’ve just finished changing into jeans and a jumper when Roland comes staggering in. He tries to grab me in a hug. He’s crying and mumbling. I push him away, and he falls back onto the bed. For a moment we stare at each other. A ‘whoosh’ of good-history passes between us, moments when we’d been happy and in love. The silence says so much. Unfortunately, Roland breaks the moment.
‘Please don’t leave. You know these women don’t mean anything to me.’
‘Oh, for crying out loud will you grow up, and stop lying to yourself. The reason you’re hell-bent on destroying yourself is because you’re a coke addict. Well I’ve had enough. I can’t fix you, God knows I’ve tried.’
I pull a coat out of the wardrobe, pick up my everyday handbag, and start across the room.
‘But I love you...’
I stop and turn around. ‘No you don’t, and you haven’t for a long time. I’ll be back on Monday morning to pick up some things. I’ll be calling Sherwoods, so you’ll have to go somewhere else for a lawyer.’
Judith is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’ve asked Tina to announce that you’re not feeling well, and I’ve got Luke waiting at the kitchen door for you.’
Gratitude washes over me, bringing me close to tears. Tina is the event planner and could be trusted to be tactful, and Luke is my favorite chauffeur. I grab Judith in a tight, brief embrace, but as tears threaten to flood I quickly let her go.
Luke is standing holding the limousine door open. He gives me a brief nod before I dive in. Once the engine’s started, Luke looks at me through the driver’s mirror.
‘Holmes Chapel, please Luke. Dotty’s house.’
Chapter 2
Last night I’d let myself in quietly through the back door, and tiptoed to my bedroom.
Now, light dances through the gap in the curtains as I listen to Dotty moving about downstairs. I don’t feel like facing her and telling her why I’m here, yet again, so I can’t help moaning as I hear her coming up the stairs. I feel like I am ten again, and pull the duvet up under my chin. I should have realized she would know I was here; eighty-eight she may be, but she’s still bright as a button. Her serious face, lips pursed tight, does nothing to hide the love and affection in her eyes. She puts a cup of tea on the bedside cabinet then leans down to drop a kiss on my forehead before sitting on the bed.
Nana Dotty is the epitome of perfect Granny-hood, one whose hugs and smiles can carry you through any storm. Her salt-and-pepper hair is tied in a bun at the back of her head. Her smiling eyes are surrounded by laughter lines. Her crinkled hands are soft but firm as they hold mine. If I hadn’t been in this position too many times to count, I would be crying now from the relief of knowing there is at least one person in the world who never changes, one who always loves me, no matter what.
‘Have your tea, my dear. Then come downstairs and tell me all about it.’
‘Thanks Nana.’
Her all-knowing eyes bore into mine with understanding sympathy. She pats my hand and leaves me to my tea and gloomy thoughts.
Sitting up, packed with feather pillows behind me, I cradle my cup as I try to stem the torrent of thoughts that jostle for pole position within my over active mind. I can’t believe he’s done it to me again... no wait, yes of course I can believe he’s done it again. What I can’t understand is why I’m still married to him. Do I still love him? Maybe I cling to the hope that one day he’ll find me enough? Obviously, I’ve failed our marriage. I’ve not been able to make him happy. I couldn’t join in his lifestyle, nor could I pull him into mine. I couldn’t even give him a child. No heir for his vast empire. Just what purpose could I have in his life if I can’t even do that? No wonder he plays around.
‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and get your skinny bones down here!’
I can’t help laughing. Nana knows me too well. I hear her tutting to herself as she returns to the kitchen. Out of bed I pull on the fluffy dressing gown that’s always on the hook on the back of the door ready for my visits, and then I head downstairs.
‘Would you like some crumpets?’
‘No thanks, Nana.’
We automatically sit next to each other at the small round kitchen table with our backs to the wall so we can look out of the glass door into the garden. Dotty loves birds, and not far from the kitchen door is a whole array of bird feeders enticing feathery friends to come to the garden. Two robins are pecking at the winter-hardened grass, whilst blue tits and sparrows jostle for prime positions on the feeders. Three circular water baths in various heights cluster beneath the feeders, offering the birds a place to bathe and drink. For a moment we sit in comfortable silence, allowing the view to soak in and calm our spirits.
‘Another woman again?’ Dotty isn’t one for beating around the bush.
I nod. That’s easier than verbalizing his adultery.
Dotty holds her mug in both hands, squints into the garden and ‘Mm’s.’
I wait for the ‘what are you doing with your life speech.’ But after two minutes of silence I can’t stand it anymore and blurt out. ‘I told him I’m filing for divorce.’
‘Well, that would be nice.’
‘Nice? What do you mean nice? He’s cheating on me again. I’d hardly call it nice.’
Dotty pushes her chair back a bit, so we can sit and face each other. ‘It would be nice if you actually woke up. It would be even better if you’d face the fact that you can’t change him, you can only change you. If you should find the courage from somewhere to actually divorce him, I think you might even discover that you can stand on your own feet and design your own life. Now, that would be nice.’
I don’t know what to say. Unfortunately, we’ve had this discussion several times already, and I can sense that she doesn’t think this time will be any different to the others. ‘He bought me a huge diamond necklace for my birthday.’
‘Lucky you.’ The words are heavily sarcastic. Dotty is one of those people who believe you don’t need much to live on to be happy. It had taken me months to persuade her to let Roland buy this house for her five years ago. In the end it had been the combination of her old house needing a new roof and this house being right opposite the Methodist Church that had finally won her round.
I can’t help rolling my eyes.
‘None of that cheek,’ Dotty says, playfully punching my arm.
‘You know I don’t like over-the-top jewelry, Nana. It’s really hideous. I wore my wrap all night just to hide it.’
‘I take it that didn’t go well.’
‘He didn’t even notice.’
We’re quiet for a moment as I try to verbalize that even though I’ve said it before, this time it really is time to leave.
‘The necklace was the last straw, well that and the fact he had sex with some bimbo in our house right under my nose.’
Dotty doesn’t say anything, just stares inside her mug as if searching for answers.
‘I was twenty-eight yesterday, and I’m seriously wondering if my life matters.’
‘Of course it matters. You can knock that thought right out of your mind straight away, young lady! You’re a wonderful person.’
‘Am I though? What have I done that’s so wonderful? There’s no purpose to my existence. In fact, I’m pretty useless.’
‘Hey, hey, where is all this coming from?’ Dotty leans over and grasps my hand. Her age-spotted skin crinkles as her ever-cold fingers wrap around mine.
Her hand is so cold I automatically place my other hand over it to warm it through. ‘I need to buy you fingerless gloves, Nana. No matter how high the heating is on your hands are always cold.’
‘Cold hands, warm heart,’ she smiles at me.
‘I wish I was more like you. You’re constantly busy and active, and helping out at church. You always have a kind word and are forever comforting people.’
‘Firstly, you are more like me than you realize. And secondly, I’ve been through heartbreak many times. Going through loss alters you in a way you can’t understand, until you go through it yourself. It’s from my pain that I am able to offer comfort to others.’
We are quiet for a moment. I know she will be thinking not only of my granddad but of my mum who died of a brain tumour when I was only eight years old. Dotty repeatedly said the good to come from it was that I had come to live with her, and that I brought life into her heart. My father left my mum when I was only two years old and moved to Australia. During the divorce the lawyers had told mum that he’d met someone and wanted to marry them, and that was why he was pushing for the divorce. I have no memories of him, only two old black and white faded photographs. I don’t think I ever missed him until my mum died, then I’d daydreamed that he’d come and fetch me and take me to Australia to live with him. Dotty wrote him but he never replied. So the seeds of worthlessness were sown into my spirit, along with the dagger of rejection that still juts out of my back to this day.
Tears trickle from the corner of my eyes. ‘I so wanted to be a mum.’
‘Oh, my little love.’ Dotty is out of her chair, folding her arms around me as she covers my head with kisses. ‘There’s still time for you to have a family. You just need to find the courage to leave that treacherous cad, and move on with your life. I know you don’t think you deserve to be loved, but I tell you, you do. He doesn’t cheat on you because you’ve failed. He cheats because he’s weak.’
I lean in against her smell of sweetened lavender, the softness of her jumper touching my face. I know there is no comfort in the world that is greater than a hug from a person who loves you. Her warmth flows through me. Her love is like a healing tonic bringing hope into my darkness.
When I’ve stopped crying, Dotty fishes a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabs at my face. ‘There is someone in the world that is right for you. You just haven’t met him yet, I don’t think, but you never know. This person whoever he is will make you feel whole, complete. That great big black hole that drains all your joy,’ she taps on my chest, ‘will slowly close, allowing cheerfulness to fill you. I know you can’t believe it will happen, but trust me it will, if you let it. Your life is a sum of your choices, just choose wisely.’
‘Starting with divorce?’
‘Yes, I truly believe that should be your first step.’
‘Then what?’
‘Well now then, the world’s your oyster as they say. What do you want to do?’
‘I’ve been thinking about my time at university a lot lately.’
‘You want to go back to studying?’
‘No, but I would like to combine my architecture BA with some way of helping people. I have no idea what that might be yet, but it’s a dream building inside me.’
‘Then I will pray it takes root in your soul and leads you to joy.’
Chapter 3
After a thoughtful but relaxing weekend, Monday is here and I need to face the fire. As my car is at home, I’ve called for a limousine. I don’t know why I spot it today, but I’ve just noticed how much Luke looks like Channing Tatum. We exchange glances through the rear view mirror. His gorgeous blue eyes are questioning, maybe a little concerned.
He’s been driving me around for three years, and pretty much all I know about him are three things. His name; he works for Luxury Travel Ltd, and his wife died in a skiing accident four years ago. This he’d shared with me only five months ago, when I’d told him to get himself home to his wife as it was so late. I’d offered sincere condolences, which had managed somehow to feel empty because I’d really not known what to say.
Now I know four things, because I’ve just clocked that his eyes are blue. A slow-burning heat rises up my cheeks. Do I consider myself single already? For goodness’ sake, I’ve not even called the lawyer yet.
I usually let myself out of the car, but today before I’ve had a chance to pick up my handbag, Luke is opening the door. I lift my chin up as I look at him. His eyes seem to be questioning me, but he obviously can’t quite bring himself to say anything. I feel awkward, offer a half smile, whisper ‘thanks’ and hasten indoors.
