The Reunion (16 page)

Bridget stood, walked across the passageway and sat by
her side. “Can I help you?”

The woman looked up startled. “No dear, it’s something
I’ve got to deal with all by myself.”

With great compassion Bridget eked out her story. Of a
beloved husband who had died having completed this, his final letter, while
wasting away in a hospital bed. He had passed away on the very day of their
sixty-seventh wedding anniversary. That morning the lady had made a carrot
cake, his favourite, to celebrate the occasion. But by the time she arrived the
curtains had been drawn around his bed and a nurse greeted her with the news. Bridget
consoled her with talk of the importance of memories. She spoke of her love for
her own father and the pain of the loss.

“Is that your husband?” the old lady asked, looking
across at David.

“No,” Bridget replied, “but he’s a very good friend.”

The woman refolded the buff sheets, fitted them back
inside the envelope, and then placed it in her bag. Bridget supported her as she
struggled to stand up. “Well home I go to start my new life,” she said, able to
produce a watery smile. “Thank you dear, you’re very kind.”

She looked across at David. “And you’re a lucky young man
to have this woman.”

“I know.”

The train stopped and the fellow passenger left. Bridget
sat down next to David in the now deserted carriage.

“Not much point sitting, Bridget. We’re at High Barnet, it’s
the end of the line.”

“I thought Mill Hill was the last station.”

“We were meant to switch trains to the branch line a
while back, but we missed the stop.”

“Oh god, I am sorry. I got carried away chatting to the
poor soul.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. As she said, you were so very
kind.”

They stood up and exited the train.

Bridget continued to chat as they walked. “Well I don’t
know about being kind, I didn’t like seeing her upset. Shall I tell you
something? The underground drives me up the wall. Whatever’s happening,
passengers ignore each other. If you speak to someone they look at you as if
you’re mad. A few days ago the woman next to me was reading
Fingersmith
which I’d just finished. I told her I’d loved it and she turned her back on me.
It’s not as if I look threatening, is it?”

“No, you don’t look threatening.” David put a hand on her
shoulder, pulled her closer and kissed her. It made his jaw ache but was worth
the pain. They stood close together for a while.

“Come on, let’s cross platforms and head back to your
place.”

As they walked, a rush of intense affection hit David.
The physical beauty of Bridget was matched by a personality he had grown to
love in such a short time. Her brief conversation with the old lady and the
passing comments about the underground typified her good nature. The kindness
and compassion. The strong views about what was right and what was wrong with
the world.

Half an hour later they were in David’s house and Bridget
was complimenting his choice of paint in the lounge. “Orange is my favourite
colour,” she exclaimed.

“I’ve started the bedroom too,” he said. “I’ve only done
one wall so far. I’m considering whether to do the others the same colour or
whether that would be too much.”

“Well, we’d better have a look then, hadn’t we?”

Up the stairs they went, David’s heart pounding. He’d
painted the wall behind the bed Redcurrant Glory and Bridget indicated approval
before turning to face him. Now it was she who began the kissing having placed
her arms around his waist.

“I love you Bridget,” he whispered.

Bridget took off her cardigan and dropped it to the
floor. “Let’s get undressed.”

David began to unbutton his shirt. “Here, let me help,”
Bridget said. She flicked her tongue over his chest as she undid each one.

“My turn to assist, ma’am.” Now David took off Bridget’s
blouse, mimicking the licking before planting a delicate kiss on the erect left
nipple visible through her bra.

As he was undoing his belt there was a strong vibration
inside his trousers. It was his phone which he’d set on silent before the film
had started. His inclination was to ignore it, but weekend calls were from his
children and he felt duty-bound to look at the screen.

Bridget was down to her underwear, her knickers matching
the pretty lacy bra. As David lifted the phone out his pocket she was in the
process of unhooking her bra.

“Hello Sam,” he said as her bra fell to the floor to
reveal a miraculous development for the woman who had once been known as ‘titless’.
The sight of her breasts was a strong force for an erection, though having Sam
on the other end of the telephone presented an interesting counterbalance. If a
penis could ever have a mind of its own and be confused then this was it. At
that instant the force in favour of erection was winning, but as the
conversation developed shrinkage took over.

Sam had had a massive bust up with Adrian and they had
come to blows. ‘Can’t you make up, Sam, at least stay on until the morning…the
problem is I can’t drive because I’ve been drinking…that’s kind of Adrian’s
mother…you’ve already left…in Cranbrook Drive, OK see you in about five
minutes...bye, Sam.’

Bridget had caught the gist of the conversation and was
getting dressed.

David must have had a look of distraught dismay because
Bridget burst out laughing. “Poor you, but it’s not a disaster, there’ll be
another opportunity. Actually I quite enjoy doing a striptease when the
audience is on the phone to one of his children. Is there a bed for me, you’d
better show me where it is before Sam’s back?”

As David was taking Bridget into Rachel’s room the front
door opened. “I’m up here, Sam,” David called out. “Bridget’s upstairs too,
she’s staying tonight. We’ll come down.”

As they walked downstairs, Bridget put a hand on David’s
shoulder. “Persevere and you’ll get me,” she whispered.

In the kitchen Bridget watched as David cleaned up Sam’s
cut lip and she remained in the room listening to the subsequent counselling
session. Then all three went upstairs together.

Alone in his bed, David considered getting Bridget into
his bedroom when Sam was asleep. But he decided against it and slept happily,
knowing it was merely a case of having to wait a little while longer.

He woke refreshed and went downstairs to prepare
breakfast. To his surprise he heard the front door open. It was only 9.00, far
too early for Rachel’s return. Jane entered the kitchen.

She was carrying a brown A4 envelope and came straight to
the point. “Thanks for sending me those documents, David. I agree with everything
you’ve suggested. To speed things up my solicitor thought I should come round
to get you to sign the papers rather than doing it via your solicitor.”

“Leave them on the table in the hall and I’ll have a look
at them later.”

“I was hoping you’d sign them now then I can take them
back with me.”

“Sorry, no time.”

“Why are you being obstructive? You haven’t changed your
mind about the settlement have you?”

“No. I’ve told you, I just haven’t got time now.”

“What’s so important to stop you getting this sorted?”

Bridget was standing by the kitchen door. She was wearing
the Simpsons tee shirt David had lent her. The family were in a line smiling,
Homer was holding baby Maggie who was looking up in admiration at her frazzled
father.

“Probably me.” She stepped into the room. “You must be
Jane, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Who are you? This is my house, you’re in my house.”

David laughed. “I think you’re being silly Jane, bearing
in mind the circumstances.”

“Are the children here?”

“Sam is.”

“Well then I think this is different to my situation. Having
a woman stay here isn’t fair on the children.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. They’ve met Bridget before
and they like her. Perhaps it’s best if you leave now.”

“How you’ve changed David. And I don’t like what I see.”

“Well you didn’t like the old me either so what’s new.”

Bridget stepped forward. “I’m starving, any chance of
breakfast?” She took hold of David’s hand.

Jane stood her ground for a few seconds, looking from
David to Bridget then back to David again. “OK, I get the message, I’m going.”

“I’ll look at your papers later. Would you leave them on
the hall table?”

Jane turned and left the room. They heard a thud as the
thick envelope was dropped on the table, followed soon afterwards by her
customary slamming of the front door.

“Thanks David, I enjoyed yesterday,” Bridget said when
the car had pulled up outside her house. “Take care, I’ll see you soon.”

David moved towards her in an attempt to kiss. Bridget
backed away. “Not a great idea if you don’t mind. I’ve got some very nosey
neighbours.” She opened the door and got out. He watched as she walked up the
driveway. She turned and waved before closing her front door.

David’s thoughts were all over the place as he drove
home. There was a sense of joy that a relationship with Bridget was imminent
despite last night’s frustration. When Jane informed Bridget that it was her
house and she had no right to be there he’d been furious. But now he found
himself facing up to mixed emotions as he reminisced about the time when he and
Jane had been so close.

They’d rented a flat together about a year after meeting
and had worked hard to make their first home attractive, with furniture from
Habitat and wallpaper from Laura Ashley. It was here that Rachel was conceived,
the pregnancy coming quicker than planned. They’d talked about buying a bigger
home before having children and would have liked more opportunity to save for
the deposit needed, but the delight of a forthcoming child far exceeded
financial concerns.

He couldn’t deny that Jane had been an ideal partner. David
still remembered the wonderful words that Jane had uttered on their way home
after the doctor had confirmed her pregnancy. ‘A child with you is my greatest
dream come true.’ She was a light-hearted counter to his rather serious self.
Somehow that part of her personality had withered away over the years.

During the pregnancy the topic of moving house frequently
cropped up; they wanted more space and a garden for their child. Jane scanned
the local paper and made appointments to view houses. One Saturday morning,
less than six weeks before Rachel was due, they saw their dream home. They sensed
it as soon as they walked inside a 1930s semi with original art-deco features,
much concealed by appalling renovation. David did the financial calculations for
buying the property while Jane worked out what would be needed to update it and
at what cost.

“£15,000 would more than do for the deposit and
refurbishment,” David announced.

“What’s the gap?”

“We’ve only got about £6,000 saved.”

“Let’s ask the parents for a loan.”

One evening the following week Jane’s parents and David’s
mother were brought together for a lasagne followed by cherry sponge with ice
cream, washed down with two expensive bottles of Chardonnay. The trio hadn’t
sat comfortably together at previous meetings. David’s dour mother didn’t
respond well to the frivolity of the couple. On this occasion it was worsened
by the obvious tension between Jane’s parents. Her father’s cutting sarcasm was
matched by her mother’s snide remarks. They announced their separation soon
afterwards.

Jane brushed aside the friction and addressed the issue as
soon as her father had complimented her on the cherry sponge.

“David and I have been thinking things through what with
the baby on its way. We’re keen to buy a house so we can have a garden. Trouble
is, we haven’t got enough for a deposit and we were wondering if you could
help. Just a loan, though we don’t know when we’ll be able to repay you.” David
appreciated that Jane was far better at getting straight to the point than he
and was happy to let her do the talking.

And she did get her way on this, easily and quickly.

“See what’s around and how much you need then we’ll see
what we can do to help,” her father had suggested.

“We know what we want, we’ve seen our dream house. But we
need to act now in case someone else snaps it up. We’re £9,000 short.”

The parents agreed to split the burden equally, with an
unwritten commitment to be paid back as and when. David had been unsure whether
his mother would be able to afford anything, but she was happy to contribute
her share.

The house was vacant, the current owner having separated
from her husband and moved closer to her sister in Surrey. As a result, contracts
could be exchanged quickly. That gave David and Jane a month to reshape the
house before the birth and to her credit Jane contributed with astounding
energy considering her state.

Yes, she’d been right to say it was her house. There was
much evidence of her influence in it. He could understand her discomfort and
resentment in seeing another woman there. But surely he shouldn’t be feeling in
any way sorry for her, bearing in mind it had been her decision to leave.

He had reached home. He parked in the drive and switched
off the engine, but remained in the car as he struggled to figure out when
there had been the first indication that all was not right with their
relationship. There were many milestones to draw upon as evidence of closeness.
The first meeting at a university disco and then together pretty well every day
and many nights towards the end of his final year at university. Visits every
weekend during the year when David had started working and Jane was still studying.
Naturally still close when they married. The births of Rachel and Sam. Coping
with the helter-skelter of joyous and scary events during the early childhood
years. The same wavelength until, until when? David had thought things were still
fine during their holiday in Brittany. Clearly that was not the case.