The Reunion (17 page)

And how quickly things were shifting for David because he
now felt completely detached from his wife.

When Jabulani had popped into his office the previous
week he’d talked about how he’d always been close to his brother. But during
the time when he thought he was dead that closeness had strengthened and the
loss had felt unbearably painful. He referred to the wisdom of the saying ‘absence
makes the heart grow fonder’.

By contrast, although David had been equally close to his
wife, only months after she walked out he didn’t miss her.

“You know, there’s another saying suggesting the complete
opposite. ‘Out of sight out of mind’. I’ll tell you what Jabulani, at times in
the not too distant past it was like we were telepathic, our relationship was that
strong. Now when I see her she’s like a stranger. The detachment hasn’t
developed gradually, it’s been as sudden as a cliff edge. I feel that I have
nothing in common with her. How on earth can that be the case?”

There was a pause for thought before Jabulani replied. “I
think people are like onions. We have a multitude of layers, in our case layers
of personality. You think you know someone inside out, then they strip off a
layer or two and you don’t know the new person at all.”

“An interesting idea,” David replied. “I’ll tell you
something, I think that applies to me. At my age I’d expect my behaviour to be set,
but in a new situation with a new person I’m behaving completely differently.”

“There are lots of layers, David. You might carry on
shedding them until the day you die. You can put them back too as problems are
resolved.”

“That would be great.”

“I assume you’re thinking of your new woman.”

“Not quite my new woman yet, but very close to it I hope.”

“I hope so, too. You deserve happiness.”

David looked at his watch; he’d been sitting in the
stationary car for over half an hour. He got out and went indoors.

How would the onion analogy pan out with Bridget? His
passion for her seemed stronger than what he had ever felt for Jane, though
this might be a trick of memory. Surely the current intense feelings, including
the lust, had been there for Jane in the early days even if he couldn’t recall them
now. And if it had been there for Jane and it was now forgotten, what long term
hope was there for the survival of any new relationship? Would Bridget become
the current Jane – distant, stale and forgotten as further layers of his onion were
discarded?

Medium/Long term objectives

1. Take a
cookery course (APMLTO1)

Sam was watching television, a repeat of one of the
Attenborough nature programmes. David came in and sat down next to him. They
gazed in awe as male penguins huddled together in the freezing Antarctic,
delicately balancing eggs on their webbed feet in anticipation of the return of
their mates as soon as the weather improved.

“Oh, Rachel phoned,” Sam announced as a female polar bear
was introducing her two cubs to the harshness of the outside world. “She’ll be
back some time this afternoon.”

When the programme was over Sam used the remote to switch
off the television and headed off to do homework. David got going with preparing
food and within ten minutes was calling out. “Sam, lunch is ready.”

His son came into the kitchen. “That’s quick, what are we
having?”

“Welsh rarebits.”

Sam didn’t look enthusiastic. “Shouldn’t it be a roast,
it’s Sunday.”

“No time, because guess what I’m off to do this afternoon.
A cookery class.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Except I thought Rachel would be back by now. Will you
be OK at home by yourself?”

“I’m not a baby.”

The phone rang and Sam got to it first. The conversation
was brief. “That was Rachel. She’s staying over at Hannah’s again tonight, it’s
one of their friend’s birthdays.”

“Oh, maybe I should cancel then. I don’t want to leave
you alone for hours.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m thirteen, I’ll be fine. I’ve got
loads of homework to do.”

Satisfied that Sam would cope, David headed off to the
local further education college to take part in the half-day
Learn to Cook –
Anyone Can Do It
course. The promotional information made the claim that
the course would provide instant confidence in buying the right ingredients; perfect
preparation; high quality cooking including the making of sauces; tips on how
to serve up in style; and if time, an insight into dessert making. Presumably
without the pun intended, it was described as a ‘taster’ course, with discounts
offered for follow-ups:
Great Grilling and Roasting
,
Simple Italian
,
Cup Cake Champion
, and
Fantastic Fish
.

David thought the promise of what would be delivered
during a single afternoon session was well over the top, but having surfed the
internet for ages he had selected this course because it was the nearest to home.

The roads were Sunday-clear and in less than fifteen
minutes he was walking through near deserted corridors on his way to the
kitchen classroom. The room itself was a fabulous facility with no expense
spared. In fact the whole college was an impressively designed new build,
opened a little over two years earlier at a cost of sixteen million pounds. There
had been a lot of money to spend ahead of the stringent government cuts.

He was the first to arrive. Before long there were eight
of them, four men and four women, standing around waiting for their tutor to
appear. Conversation progressed from name introductions to ‘what made you come
to this?’ He discovered two men were in a similar position to him, newly
separated or divorced. They were keen to develop the quality of what they could
offer their children when it was their turn. Luke’s children were aged three
and six and they stayed with him every other weekend. He claimed their mother
brought them up on a diet of pizza, beans and chips and he wanted to improve on
that. The fourth man was Nathan. He had a burly physique and tattoos covering
his arms. He was a car mechanic who wanted a career change to chef.

The four women varied in age from late teens to old age
pensioner. The teen, a confident girl called Tanya, talked about how much she
enjoyed cooking but claimed that what they were told to prepare in school was
dead boring. The oldest lady was looking for something of interest now she had
stopped work as a librarian; once she got talking it was hard to get her to
stop. The two other women, both called Janet, were fed up providing the same old
stuff over and over again for their families.

Robert, the professional chef engaged as the course
tutor, was an instant hit. He started with funny stories about how he had been
a hopeless cook at first. “So if you feel culinarily challenged, join the club.
There are millions out there like you, but the difference is that you’re
prepared to do something about it. Today I’m going to rock your socks off, or
tights for the ladies. You’re going to go home and shock your dinner companions
whether it’s a would-be lover you want to impress or a rowdy gang of kids or,”
he looked across to Brenda the pensioner, her grey hair permed with a hint of
lilac rinse, “to prove you’re never too old to try something new.”

He announced the menu for today, seasonal vegetable soup
with cheese croutons followed by pan roasted free range chicken with tarragon
and crème fraiche sauce. If time, there would be blueberry tart to follow.

Robert ended up with a round of applause and the
participants with an impressive meal to take home. Before leaving, David booked
into the
Simple Italian
course. This would be a six-week evening class led
by Robert that started in January. Five of the other participants would be
joining him.

By the time David got back to his car there was a light
dusting of snow settling; perhaps it would be a White Christmas. Sam greeted
him at the front door and followed him into the kitchen.

With a degree of pride David laid out his offering on the
kitchen table.

“Voila mon enfant, le diner.”

“Merci papa, c’est delicieux.”

It was delicious and Sam volunteered to try anything his
father brought back from a cookery class.

David cleared away the dinner things. He was feeling high-spirited,
the course had been an enjoyable success and there were more cookery lessons to
come. The relationship with Bridget was burgeoning. And not to forget, every
one of his short term objectives had been achieved. The feeling of absurdity in
having put any action points down on paper had diminished – the process had given
him direction. That being the case, now was the time to consider the
feasibility of the two long term objectives yet to be tackled.

Medium/Long term objectives

2. Quit my
job and pack in accountancy

3. Open an
arts café

David thought he should get some advice. He knew all
about business plans and with his accountancy background had sound financial knowledge.
However this didn’t make him an entrepreneur, not if the way some of his
friends operated was anything to go by. Top of that list was Ross who moved
from project to project, indifferent to the threat of failure. He’d met Ross at
university and they’d kept in irregular touch ever since, meeting every six months
or so. Ross always had a new venture on the horizon. ‘If this doesn’t work I’ll
dump it and try something else’ he would explain when David confronted him with
all the what-ifs. He was a millionaire despite twice being declared bankrupt. The
last time they’d spoken Ross was about to set up in online pet food sales, having
already suffered one e-commerce woe when the dot com bubble burst and his
online theatre ticket agency went under.

“Why would anyone want to buy their pet food online,
Ross?”

“It’ll be cheaper.”

“But what about delivery costs.”

“Well they won’t see those until check out and people
rarely cancel once they’ve got that far.”

David could never work out whether he liked or despised
his ex-university friend. Ross could be ruthless, aggressive and insensitive,
but it was fun to spend an evening with him and at times he could be extremely
kind-hearted. Like when he managed to get sought after concert tickets for
Rachel during her short period of obsession with Girls Aloud.

Jane knew Ross from their university days and joined in
when they met up. She liked to bitch about the variety of women that Ross
brought to their gatherings. There had been a lot of recent ammunition. About a
year ago with Wife Number Three present, the atmosphere had been deadly, a
battle for which of the two of them could be the nastiest. David didn’t know at
the time, but Ross had been caught having an affair with a work colleague. It
was this colleague who came along to the next get-together, an embarrassing
evening with the couple entwined and eager to depart. When Ross phoned a few weeks
later he told David that the work colleague had chosen her husband over him. But
never mind because he was madly in love with a new woman. ‘Woman’ was a
misleading descriptor – ‘girl’ would have been more appropriate. Ross had met
Hazel at a drum and bass gig. It was Hazel who had accompanied him at their most
recent meal out and David had expressed his shock to Jane on the way home. Look,
she’d replied, he’s got money, she’s got looks. Maybe it’ll be fine.

Nothing was fine when he called Ross to get his advice on
the coffee bar.

David began by informing Ross that Jane had left him. Ross
stated that it was all for the best since he’d always thought that she was
stuck up and frumpy. ‘Let’s face it,’ he’d said, ‘older men attract younger
women. It’s a man’s market out there, David. See this as a great opportunity.
And it never works the other way – older women are hung out to dry.’ He treated
women like his money making ventures. You win some and you lose some and if you
fail you move on.

David outlined his idea for a coffee bar and Ross
laughed. “You’re hardly going to make your millions with that.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point? Setting up a new business is a
big ask even if it’s only a piddly little café. If that’s what you want and
you’re serious about it, I am prepared to pop over and talk it through with you.
But I can tell you now, it’s a waste of time.”

David thought he would take up Ross’s offer despite his
dismissive tone. But beforehand he needed to work on the plan himself.

There he was with a blank pad and an unused pen in front
of him and he was unclear where to start. He had no knowledge of anything to do
with opening a café. His reasoning for this massive career change, at the
outset clear, was now vague. He liked cafes but so what? That wasn’t going to
help. He also liked films but that didn’t mean he was able to be an actor, director,
or owner of a chain of cinemas.

He decided to begin by assessing need. Most cafes closed
soon after the shops. For a while the town centres were near deserted and then
the young descended to take possession of the high streets, moving between near
identical pubs with music blasting and bouncers at the door. The old were
unwelcome in the vicinity, ‘old’ meaning anything over thirty let alone
mid-forties like him. Some pubs might not be populated by the young, but these
were often run down and uninviting. Wouldn’t it be good to have a coffee bar
open throughout the evening, a place to visit after cinema or theatre, a venue
for events like concerts, poetry readings, book clubs and art exhibitions?

David decided to run the idea past Bridget ahead of any consideration
of things like location and costs. She would have an opinion about its viability.
He doodled
Bridget, am I mad?
at the top of the page and was all set to
put down his justifications when there was a ring at the doorbell.