Tuesday 3 August 2010

My life so far...more tomorrow..

I'd hoped this year would bring happier times, after the miserable ending to 2009, and it had. As I enjoy my stroll through Hinchingbrooke Park this evening I feel quite lucky, especially after finding this beautiful place to live, my newly rented ‘A’ frame wooden home that nestles so snugly among the tall Chestnut trees.


I've switched off my mobile, not that I get many calls anyway, my best friend Tina, usually calls much later, when she’s got the kids to bed, and David, my ex, well he hardly ever calls at all these days..

His finally set up home with the voluptuous Lucinda, the blonde floozy his been cheating on me with. My Mum will be the only one to call me at this time of day, just to remind me of all the mistakes I've ever made in my life, and of course to warn me not to make any more in the future. Iv'e just double checked, just to make sure the phone really is switched off.

Walking in this park gives me the peace I need to put my life into some sort of order. The past events have been playing through my mind, like a movie in rewind. It was just before Christmas, when Tina amd I were out shopping,

We were enjoying our Lattes in the coffee shop, when out of the blue Tina asked me if I was okay. It's hard to hide anything from Tina, and I'd already admitted to myself that something was seriously wrong with the relationship between David and I. I told Tina how withdrawn he’d been for months and my problems unfolded.

Now David is a person who does everything by the book, in fact he even writes extra rules when it suits him, so when he started coming home later from the office each night, I knew something was wrong.

He'd wait for me to go to bed making excuses that he'd got to update his Blog or send some important e mails. Then much later, when he thought I'd fallen asleep, he'd mutely climb into bed and curl up on the edge facing away from me, making sure our bodies didn’t touch. I thought he might fall out onto the floor if I gave him a quick nudge, and sometimes in my frustration I was tempted.

It all came to a head one Sunday afternoon when I tried to talk to him about it. The moment I began to broach the subject David got all emotional and blurted out that he’d found someone else, was in love with her, and that he was leaving me. I was'nt surprised.

The passion was gone. In fact I've tried to recall, if there ever was any; especially when he referred to our very infrequent lovemaking as ‘having sex’.

The signs had been mounting up, like last Valentine’s Day when he'd never even bothered to send me a card. I was hurt, especially after I'd thoughtfully laid a red, foil wrapped chocolate heart on his pillow, and then noticed he’d eaten it, leaving the wrapper tossed carelessly in the waste basket, without any acknowledgment at all.

Soon other incidents followed, like the time he forgot how many sugars I took in my tea, honestly. How could he not remember that after four years of us living together? And, most of the time he hardly ever heard a thing I said. He was either spaced out staring out of the window or he would be reading the Times Newspaper, while I chattered on about my day and then, I'd realise he was paying me no attention at all.

‘David have you heard a word I've said?’ Then he'd look up with that deer caught in the headlights look and say.

'What? then I'd explode, but the final hurtful straw was when he totally forgot the fourth anniversary of when we'd met. Which had been quite by accident? I was meeting Tina at the Costa Coffee shop in Cambridge. I waited for her, admiring the silk red rose pinned to the front of my new outfit, that came with the cream and red floral dress I'd bought in a sale at my favourite shop, Monsoon.

Tina had just missed the bus but she’d sent me a text to say she'd hop onto the next one, so I settled down in the corner booth, reading my Health and Body Magazine, while sipping my skinny Latte, when quite suddenly, David turned up and introduced himself.

It took two coffees and a Chocolate Muffin before David realised, with embarrassment, that I wasn’t the blind date, his mate Steve at work, had set him up with.

The girl he was supposed to meet was a tax inspector called Gloria, but she must have got cold feet, what did she know that I didnt, I now wonder?. He never did find out why she had'nt shown up and of course, there was I wearing the identifying corny red rose.

I thought he was just the bold type, who when noticing me sitting alone decided he’d chat me up. I liked him, I thought he was sweet and it hadn’t happened to me before. I've reflected on our chance meeting many times since the break-up, and I have only just realised how totally different from each other we were. It's a miracle we ever got that far and in retrospect, I realise I'd started detaching myself a long time ago, before our imminent break-up.

Deep down I knew it was coming like a huge lorry hurtling towards me, and my legs were'nt working fast enough to get out of its path.

Many times, sitting sat at the kitchen table, sipping my morning tea I'd observe David reading his paper, or meticulously polishing his shoes. He'd be kneeling on one carefully laid down sheet of newspaper, so as not to mark our pristine white tiled kitchen floor, the one he'd insisted on having, because it looked so hygienic.What had I seen in him?

Mentally, I've tried to list his qualities. Okay, he is a hard worker, in fact he gives his all, to the company. He sells Insurance, Mortgages and Investment policies, that sort of thing and successfully, but he always spent more time at the office than he did at home, with me.

David has no hobbies to speak of, unless you count hours of filling in his Blog. 'I love to network with like-minded people', he'd say, meaning I was'nt one of them. I often pondered how interesting his blog might be, discussing money markets. Just thinking about it is enough to put me to sleep.

He is habitual about reading the Financial Times at breakfast. I'd munch noisily, on my Weetabix and banana drowned in skimmed milk,and he'd sigh loudly while peering across the top of his page at me, obviously objecting to my deliberate slurping noises. I did it, just to be noticed.

One morning I had to contain myself from laughing out loud, as I noticed the kitchen light reflecting from his balding head, and I wondered, how could he be so serious?

Sometimes, I remember when he was a sweet and generous person, but even that's diminishing with time. All I see now is a pale complected man of slight build, with a face that rather reminds me of a pointed little church mouse. His dish water blonde hair, fluffy at the sides, and hardly any left on top. He inherited his hairline from his Grandpa Sam, he'd proudly say.

I tried to inject some passion into our lives. Like the time I suggested we sleep butt naked, except for a splash of cologne. Well, David’s face was a picture, he always wears his Marks and Spencer jimmies to bed; no matter what.

‘Imagine if there's a fire in the night?’ He sqeeked prudishly at me.

‘Yes David’ I sighed, knowing fully well, it would be the only fire I was to expect from him, for this precise man had no idea of how to give a woman an orgasm. Well my hopes were disintegrated then, and if these were his qualities, then I was lost.

So, when the news of the affair came out, ...I was grateful. It was my escape route from this tedious relationship and I could bow out gracefully, exonerated of any blame, well, at least in my Mother’s eyes.

I was tidying the bathroom cabinet on Sunday morning when I noticed a bottle of JOOP cologne had mysteriously appeared, along with a large tube of expensive teeth whitener; the one that promises a sparkling Hollywood smile. Well, it was a bit of a giveaway. David never ‘prissied’ himself up; as he called it.

Why had'nt he hidden it? Was he leaving me clues? Up until then, I had thought my life was kind of okay.

Anyway, I questioned David about it that afternoon and that’s when he finally came clean about Lucinda; the blonde frothy temp who worked in his office. It all began to add up.

We were both very calm; there was no big argument, no screaming or shouting as I listened to his confession. For the first time I could feel passion in David, what a shame it was for another woman instead of me. He'd undoubtedly fallen in love with Lucinda and I knew then, that David and I had just been incompatible. It's easy to see that now, in hindsight. I am relieved and hope David will be happy.

There'll be no more pretending, I'd only hung on so long, because I could'nt face telling my Mother, Blanche Summers. She is always so disappointed at everything I do; she had such high expectations of this Perse school girl.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough to set my Mother’s nerves on edge, close on the heels of the break-up with David; I learnt I was going to be made redundant from the Oasis Health Food Shop.

I've been in that job for over eight years, since I left school, but it wasn’t just a job, I really loved it. There's nothing I don't know about health foods and I enjoyed the daily banter with my customers. That job brought me out of myself, before I'd worked at Oasis I'd been a painfully shy girl; but now I'd built a confidence with people.

I had noticed the decline in business, I just thought it had been slack due to the recession, I suspected cut backs, but not closure. I'd always thought I might leave the job one day, if I were to have a child; in fact I'd mentioned it in passing once or twice to David. I'd quite liked the idea, I could get started on my writing; a dream I'd had since being editor on the Morley Memorial Junior School newspaper.

But I have to be honest with myself, I knew David had'nt shown any interest in procreating, especially as it meant we'd have to have sex first, for that to happen. I had raised the baby subject a few times in hope, but he always killed it by saying.

‘When my portfolio's looking better Grace, all in good time.’ and then he'd pat my arm, which made me feel like wagging my tail.

I wince as I recall plucking up the courage to inform Blanche, my Mum, about my job loss. Her whining voice still echoes in my ears. We have a love hate relationship.

‘A girl with your brains dear; can do a lot better than working as a common shop assistant. You could have done anything, if your aspirations had been set a lot higher. I did not struggle to bring you up alone and send you to Perse for your education, so that you could be a vulgar shop girl.’

Just thinking of my Mum's cruel words wound me again. I've failed once more; well at least I'm consistent with that, I thought as she rambled on.

‘Well wouldn’t you believe it, now even the shop does'nt have a need of you. You should have gone to college, as I told you, but do you ever listen to a word I say Grace Summer, no. So now you are in this incredible mess again. I have no idea what to say to you.’

It makes me laugh, for someone who's nothing to say, she always manages to find a stream of words long enough to belittle me. It’s a good thing, I've great sense of humour, I must have inherited that from my Father, and it's been my saviour.

I've tried hard to let her negativity roll off of my back; I'm always trying to look on the positive side of life, but cruel words once said and the damage is done. All I can do is file them away in the cabinet I keep locked up at the back of my mind.

So, as I was wandering in the woods tonight in Hinchingbrooke Park, I, Grace Summers, twenty four years old with no qualifications to speak of, no man and no job, feel totally at peace with myself, as though a great load has been lifted from my shoulders.

I was'nt aware of how far I'd walked, ambling along this cinder path; I must have got lost in my thoughts.It's come over quite dark now, I ought to switch on my phone again, it's here somewhere in my shoulder bag.

It's five twenty five and there's been no calls or texts. That's okay, I love walking in this park, it helps me think things over, and I can be at one with nature.

I moved into my cosy two bed house three weeks ago and already it feels like home. I enjoy sitting in the swing on the wrap around deck most evenings, and the large double glazed windows give spectacular views of the lake, through the trees.

Late in the afternoon, the sun streams in, long shards of light that pierce through the bare winter trees, come summer, there'll be much shade to sit in. I've sufficient furniture, David feeling guilty told me.

‘Take what you want,’ I took only what I needed. Two overstuffed Cerise pink couches, the grey metal framed bed with matching side tables and pine dining set, of course not forgetting my dream catchers and collection of Native American figurines, books and personal belongings.

I'd been worried about finding a place of my own, I really didn’t want to accept my Mother’s offer, sleeping in the back bedroom at her home in Huntingdon; I may never escape again. So I was delighted when an offer of the house came, owned by my Mum’s friend, Emily Green.

Emily's also a member of ‘The friends of Hinchingbrooke House Committee’ along with my Mother. I am particularly thrilled that my new home nuzzles in the vast woods, that line the grounds of Hinchingbrooke Park.

It's a historical, mediaeval old Nunnery and has been adapted over many years to become this large stately home. It's some eight hundred years old and included in its incredible history is Oliver Cromwell’s family, Samuel Pepys, the famous diarist and it's also been a place of rest on long journeys for some with Royal pedigree of the past. It's a perfect setting for my writing. One day, I will finish that novel I've started. If only I can find a middle and an end.

My stomach's grumbling now, it must be supper time, I'm nearly at the Nuns Bridge which overlooks the main road to Brampton. I'll rest for a while, and listen to the music of the water in the brook. It runs under the old bridge and then I'll head back home for supper.

The green water is clouded, it's flowing gently, it's sound is muffled by the ear-splitting noise of the traffic rushing by me. Cars are hooting and headlights are flashing, as they run the gauntlet for home. I guess it's knocking off time from work, but I'm relaxed and although not by choice, I am no longer part of the rat race, I am enjoying the freedom it's giving me.

What's that? I can hear barking.

There's a small brown and white dog running along the curb of the busy road on the other side. It looks panicked, it's barking and racing back and forth. I can't see an owner from here, no there's no one in sight of the animal. It's wearing a collar, so it must belong to somebody, I'm scared it's going to run into the busy road, I'm going to check it out. Oh crap, ...it's going to run across, …

'Stay there you silly animal, ...stay there.' Oh no, it's darting into the oncoming traffic, okay, I'm running now....



I'm too late, its been hit, ...what a sickly thud. There's brakes screeching and the dog is yelping, ...this is awful. There's a blue Mini car, it's stopped at an angle, it was trying to avoid the animal, the driver looks horrified, she's scrambling to get out of the vehicle, I can't believe the other motorists are tooting their horns, their angry at the hold up, ...they have no souls.

I'm on the grass verge now, the poor little dog, it's a Jack Russell, it's trembling and panting heavily, the driver, a dark haired young girl, is shaking and sobbing.

‘It just ran out from nowhere, I just couldn’t stop in time,' It wasn’t your fault, honestly, I saw it all. We're both kneeling down next to the dog, it's twitching, and bleeding profusely, it's back leg is badly torn, looks like the limb is almost hanging off.

We need to help him right now, do you have anything to wrap him in? The crying girl is running to her car, she's bringing a red plaid woollen blanket from the back seat, quickly.

I'll spread it out on the ground beside him, you gently lift him and I'll wrap him up. I think it’s unconscious now, it must be in shock. My heart is pounding in my chest. His leather collar is unusual, hand plaited but no name tag.We have to find a Vet and quickly, the girl is scrambling to her feet with the dog.

‘Poor thing, I think it’s dying,’ she's sobbing. I'm cradling it in my arms now, the girl has opened the passenger side door of her Mini.

‘Quick get in there’s a Vet not far from here, I’ve passed it several times on the ring road on my way to work.’ I've a strange sense of déjà vu flooding all over me, as I cradle the injured animal and climb into her car.