Desperately Seeking... Part 9

'I can probably sneak away in an hour.' It was three o'clock.

'Great. I'll meet you in Malone's so, at four-ish.'

'OK, then. See you there.'

I wondered if I should contact Mike and tell him where she was. But I believed her when she said she would talk to him, and I kind of understood why she wanted to talk to me first. Whatever she had to say I would probably understand, a bit at least. When you're being dysfunctional it's always better to be with someone who has a history of dysfunctional behaviour.

I shuffled around the office conspicuously for half an hour or so, then announced I was going to the library to do some research. With any luck n.o.body would need me for the rest of the afternoon. Malone's was a short walk down town; it was one of Jean's favourite pubs. It used to be a favourite haunt of the two of them. She was waiting for me when I got there; she had two gin-and-tonics at a low table near the back. She got up as I approached, and held out her hand in a rather old-fashioned gentlemanly way. I took it, and automatically we had a deep, lasting hug. I was surprised by how much I needed to hug her. We had probably never hugged each other like that before, or certainly never meant it. She felt soft and pliant, not how I usually thought of her. There was distinct moisture in her eyes when we parted.

'Hey,' she said. 'Thanks for coming.'

Suddenly I knew that, no matter what she told me, I wouldn't judge her. Suddenly I felt like the older sister who would be happy to share her wisdom. 'So,' I said, 'tell me everything.'

She took a sip from her gla.s.s, inhaled deeply, and began. 'It wasn't easy. I've thought about nothing else for ages for years, even. Mike is the best, you know that. He's one of the really good ones. I'm lucky I even know him, not to mind be married to him. And he's still the best. Nothing's changed. He's always done everything he can to make me happy, and G.o.d knows that hasn't been easy. I'm a very selfish person and Mike isn't. He's the opposite of selfish. He's '

'I know what Mike is,' I a.s.sured her.

'Well, then you know that, in a way, he's not right for me. He was right for me eighteen years ago when I was a mess and needed someone to love me no matter what. He's been right for me all these years but in a way he's been too good for me because now I feel... Please don't hate me when I say this but I'm trying to be as honest as possible... Now I feel, well... that I don't need him any more. Is that terrible?'

'No, it's not terrible.'

'I do realize that I wouldn't be the person I am if it weren't for Mike. You mightn't think it but I'm a fairly together person now... I'm confident, I'm enjoying work I'm even reasonably happy with the way I look. I don't want to sound like some self-help testimony, but I'm a lot happier now than I used to be. I'm probably what most people manage to be by their mid-twenties. But now that I'm there, or here, or whatever... I kind of want to go it alone. I want to see what I can do by myself. Does that make sense?'

I also wanted to be as honest as possible. 'I suppose it does, sort of... but does your marriage have to end just so you can feel like you're doing it for yourself?'

'Yes, I think it does. Mike would always be a security. I would never feel independent if I were still with him.'

I was getting suspicious. How transparent was her honesty?

'Jean, is there someone else?' I asked her, straight out. 'Is that why you wanted to talk to me?'

'No, there isn't.' She was emphatic. She paused. 'But I want to have the option of there being somebody else in the future.'

'Oh.'

'You must remember, Kate, that I never did the running around you did. I had a couple of boyfriends, then Mike, then wedded bliss for fifteen years. Can you believe I've been married for fifteen years? I need to be free to explore. And...' she paused again '... I know it sounds terrible but I don't think I love Mike. I mean, I love him for who he is, and all he's been to me... but I'm not in love in love with him, not how you should be, even after fifteen years.' with him, not how you should be, even after fifteen years.'

She was quiet again and took another sip of her drink. I could see that everything she'd said had been wrangled out of her, probably very slowly and very painfully.

'Hey,' she said, before I had a chance to speak, 'want to go outside for a sneaky cigarette?'

'Sure.'

I'd been having a lot fewer sneaky cigarettes lately (Keith being good for me that way) but I was always ready to jump off the wagon. And it had probably been about fifteen years since Jean and I had shared a smoke. During their courting days, when Mum used to dump me on the two of them, Jean would often let me have an illicit drag on her cigarette. Mike hated it and used to get cross with the two of us, especially Jean because she should have known better. And Jean should have shopped me to Mum, but I think she liked the company. There's twice the pleasure when there's two of you. She's been smoking on and off for years; like me, she started at school, in the laneway behind the gym, or underneath the laburnum tree in the nuns' garden. Until now she'd been totally off them for ages. I suppose this was part of her needing to break free and do the bad thing.

It was lovely outside. Ever since the smoking ban, pubs had been making a real effort to provide a makeshift beer garden. Malone's were lucky: they had a paved area to the side that used to hold their bins but they'd tidied it up and put out some cheap garden furniture and the obligatory gas heater and, to any boozy smoker, it could have been the Latin Quarter. Now that we were outside I could see Jean's face properly. She looked younger, almost like she'd looked when we'd last shared a cigarette. Was it because she was so much happier now or because I hadn't actually looked at her in a very long time? I was enjoying the moment I couldn't but be happy that my slightly estranged sister and I were bonding over Silk Cut Blue but I was still mad at her. I still held in my mind the image of a deranged Mike crumpled on the foyer floor in my building. It was something I shouldn't have seen and she was responsible for it.

'Jean,' I decided to ask her, 'why the dramatic exit? Why did you tell Mike you were leaving him before you went away? Why didn't you wait until you came back? You really, really wrecked his head.'

'I know.'

She rubbed her face with her hands. 'I know that was probably the worst part of it but it was the only way.' She was pleading with me to understand. 'I knew that if I just went up to Dublin without saying anything I'd lose my bottle by the time I got back. I'd tried to say something before but I could never muster the courage. This way I could say it and leave and not have to deal with it until I had time to come to terms with it myself. I know it was lousy, but it was the only way. If I'd stayed to have it out with him I'd probably have ended up backing down because... well... it's pretty hard to say no to a really loving man who's been everything to you for nearly half your life. You know what I mean?'

'Yeah,' I had to admit. 'I think I probably do. But,' I added, 'it was still a horrible thing to do to Mike. He didn't deserve that.'

'I know.' Her voice quivered. She was crying.

I hugged her and held her tightly until her body stopped heaving. In a way I admired her. She had done a very difficult thing.

'I am going to talk to him.' She was blowing her nose. 'I want to see him and explain. But I couldn't have done that if I hadn't given myself the chance to get it straight in my head first. After saying it to him and to Mum there was definitely no going back.'

I had forgotten about Mum.

'Oh, G.o.d, Mum,' I blurted out. 'She had to be sedated. There was consternation!'

We burst out laughing. We're truly terrible daughters.

'Oh, no,' said Jean. 'She's not too bad, is she? I had a few qualms about that I didn't want to be responsible for bringing on an early death. But I had to tell her. She's a tough old bird and she needed to be told the truth. I'm actually more worried about Dad. He really likes Mike, and he'll hate me for doing this to him.'

'He won't hate you. Dad isn't capable of that. You're his first born. He loves you. But, yes, he is disappointed. And a bit bewildered. It's not within his realms of understanding why someone would leave any marriage, let alone a marriage that involved Mike.'

'Oh, stop, you're making me feel bad.'

'Well, I'm sorry, Jeanie dear, but bad is how you've got to feel. At least some of the time.'

'I know, I know. But you do see why I had to do it?'

'Look,' I said to her, 'if you're sure you've done the right thing. Are Are you sure, after all you've said to me here, that you want to end your marriage, leave your life as you've known it for the past fifteen years and for no good reason either, mind you, other than that you want to rediscover your wild youth?' you sure, after all you've said to me here, that you want to end your marriage, leave your life as you've known it for the past fifteen years and for no good reason either, mind you, other than that you want to rediscover your wild youth?'

She paused, whether for effect or to think, I didn't know.

'Yes,' she said eventually. 'I'm sure. It's the right thing.'

'Well, OK, then.'

It was getting a bit chilly and our G-and-Ts needed freshening so we went back inside. Jean was visibly lighter in spirit, almost buoyant. I'd never thought a marriage break-up could be so pleasant. We found our table again and settled down with our drinks and a packet of crisps.

'You know,' she said, after a while, 'this isn't all bad for Mike. Once he gets over the shock, he'll be much better off.'

'How do you make that out?' I asked, intrigued and dubious.

'Well,' she was taking her time, choosing her words carefully, 'it's been a while since Mike was in love with me.'

'That's not true!'

'It is. I'm not saying there's anything bad in that. I'm not saying I'm fleeing a loveless marriage, but he isn't in love with me any more.'

'How do you know?'

'Oh, you just know. He'd never be obvious, but it's there. When we were married first, he used to tell me he loved me all the time. And he really meant it. It came so naturally to him, he'd say it any time, and I'd know it was true. And then, whatever, years go by, and suddenly I realize he doesn't say it any more, or at least not like he used to. And if I ever force it, he'll say it, but I know he doesn't mean it and I know he hates lying.'

'Are you sure that isn't what comes of being married for fifteen years?'

'I'm sure. But it's OK. In fact, it's much better. I'm not leaving him because he isn't in love with me. I'm leaving him because I'm not in love with him. When he has time to think about it, he'll see how this is a good thing for him.'

'Whatever you say, Jeanie.'

'No, it's true. Mike is... I'm not... Well, I'm not that adventurous... s.e.x-wise, and... Mike would like to be, if you know what I mean.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Well, I mean I do like s.e.x, I just like it simple.'

'OK, then.' I couldn't suppress a smile. It was so odd to hear Jean talk like this. She really was being as honest as she could be.

'Mike didn't have that many girlfriends before me, either. And he's still very good-looking. I mean, he's actually better-looking now than he was when I met him. And I've seen other women look at him. Young, attractive girls. He might like to find out where that leads him. You know what I mean?'

I did. Mike is one of those guys who grow into their looks as they get older. He was attractive in his twenties but now he's in his early forties there's something casually distinguished about him. He was never one to pay particular attention to his appearance, but as he's aged, he's taken care of himself. He's probably fitter now than he was in his twenties; his body has more muscle and is better toned. He has always worn his hair slightly long the legacy of too many bad razor jobs in childhood, he claims and a little scraggy. If he's not seeing clients he can go without shaving for days and it looks well on him; he makes other men appear to have made far too much effort. He usually dresses casually in jeans and tops or an open-necked shirt but he makes it seem like it's the only way a man should dress, and when he has to scrub up he looks great clean-shaven and in a suit. There's no doubt about it, a lot of women would be very interested in a newly single Mike.

'And you wouldn't mind that? Mike being with other women?'

'No, why should I? I'm planning to be with other men.'

'Jean, I don't know if it's as simple as that. There are probably a lot more women out there for Mike than there are men for you.' I hated to be so blunt but it was the truth.

'Of course I know that. Look, I'm nearly forty, I've never been particularly good-looking, I'm very high maintenance, I'm not a great catch. But, Kate, that's not what this is about. If I meet someone else and we're together for two nights or two months or two years, then great. And if I don't meet anybody, that's OK too. I think I'll be able to grow old with just myself.'

'OK, then.'

We went back to our gin and our half-empty packet of crisps.

'Mike would like to have kids,' she said, after a while.

'Oh, yeah?' I said, a little disingenuously.

'He always wanted children. And I didn't grasp how much I didn't until well after we were married. He was always really good about it. He never made me feel I was denying him anything. But he would really like to have kids.'

And now he could.

'So when will you say all this to him?'

'I'm going to see him straight away. I rang him earlier today. I'll meet him later at the office, when it's quiet.'

'Oh. How did he sound?'

'He sounded OK. A bit relieved. Calm, I suppose.'

'He wasn't calm last week. I've never seen a man so upset.'

'Oh, I know. This must be especially hard for you at the moment. I hope it hasn't rattled you too much.'

'How do you mean?'

'Well, the certainty of marriage and all that. It's a bit off-putting to have marriages break up around you when you're about to get married yourself.'

'Oh, we're fine. We're just back from a holiday in the sun, actually. It was great. We're having a great time.'

'Good. Have ye set a date yet?'

'No, we haven't. We're just about to.'

'Good.'

The afternoon gin was making me sleepy so I suggested we switch to coffee. 'So,' I asked, needing to leave the soul-searching aside for a bit, 'what are ye going to do with the house?'

'Oh,' she said, 'I don't know. Probably sell it. I don't want it anyway.'

'But ye designed that house together. It was your pa.s.sion for years.'

'I know, but that's changed. I mean, it's a great house remember, the plans won a prize but I'm not interested in living there any more. It's too far out. I want something closer to work and town. You've always said there's nothing like living in town.'

'I can't argue with that. I never could understand your obsession with doing up a house.'

'Oh, I know, I was obsessed for a long time, but it doesn't mean anything to me any more.'

'Do you think Mike wants it?'

'Probably not. He was never that keen on living in the sticks. And it was always more my house than his, even though he designed it.'

'Not to be cra.s.s, but if ye do sell it, ye'll probably get a truckload of money for it.'

'You're probably right,' she said, with a smile.

The coffee was reviving me. I was definitely suffering from sensory overload.

'Oh, that reminds me,' she continued, after another shot of espresso, 'I need to ask you yet another favour. I know, I know, when will it end? I promise you a share in my half of the house.'

'You'd better!'

'Seriously, could I stay with you for a while until I get myself organized? I won't be any bother, I promise.'

'Of course you can. I'd like having you around for a while. We can have a second go at being sisters together. Stay as long as you like.'

'Oh, thanks a million. Are you sure Keith won't mind? It won't cramp your style?'

I'd forgotten about Keith. 'No, of course not.'

'Great! Listen, I'm going over to Mike's office now. I'd say there's hardly anybody left. I'll ring you later tonight and tell you how it went.'