If it is your life (9 page)

No.

Are you sure? A Cointreau?

It is two o’clock in the afternoon. Anyway, I dont drink much alcohol, only the odd occasion.

Could there be a more odd occasion than this, I wondered, but not aloud.

I was close to abstinent myself nowadays so it was a surprise she should refer to alcohol in that manner, as
though I were an habitual drinker. I was never one. I knew habitual drinkers and knew their habits; enough to know about myself. We see ourselves in others and I did not see myself when I looked at them. Maybe she mixed me up with someone else, one of her other menfriends.

‘Menfriends’ was the word, they certainly werent boyfriends. Jennifer had men. So many I confused identities. Like she had confused me. It beat everything. Finally I knew where I came on the scale of things. So then she talked to me like she now was doing, as though I was a brother-confessor or some damn asexual jackass.

She spoke about them to me. She actually did that. I let her do it. I even expected it. I knew why she saw me and here it was again afuckinggain, seeing this married guy who lived apart from his wife and family. This is who she was seeing. God almighty. But it sounded complicated. She denied it was complicated. She attempted an explanation of why it was not complicated, why it was so uncomplicated, all of its uncomplicatedness. She was telling me! Why are you telling me, I said, I dont want to know, I’m not a brother-confessor for God sake a what-do-you-call-it, an objective bystander, some kind of monk.

Ssh. You are talking too loud.

I shook my head.

You always talk too loud. You do. I wish you would be less … If you would speak more quietly. You are too loud. Honestly Mike, you are. Really. I wish you would be more calm.

I looked at her.

Can you be? Please.

Okay, I said, but no wonder, hearing about your life, when you start telling me stuff it is so damn complicated it drives one absolutely bloody bananas. It is a complete hotchpotch.

If you dont speak more quietly I am leaving.

What?

Honestly now dont do it Mike, people can hear.

She was looking across to the bar. But the people there waited to be served. They were not eavesdropping. Only interested in their own order, what they were getting to drink and if somebody was going to be served before them, if they came first into the bar and someone coming behind them was served first before them. That could happen in this bar with mister seventeen bellies, it drove you insane. The bartenders here were not the worst but occasionally they ignored individuals out of spite. Nothing more nothing less. If you were the ignored individual it was tough luck. Except if you were new to the culture and neglected to tip. Oh my God what a criminal way to behave, the asshole dont tip. So people do not serve them! That was the mentality in this bar. I could get nauseated by the place. Why did I continue coming? There are perennial questions; that was one.

Some of the faces were familiar. I noticed them nod to the Duponzers and one of them even gave me a wave. He was in here most days of the week. An unhappily married guy. One time we spoke together and all he did was gossip and bitch, that was all he did. People
squabbled. Over the pettiest of matters. If too many strangers were present they pretended things were friendly but they were not. As soon as a stranger became a regular he got drawn in too. Not just hes, they were shes. This was a bar where women could drink alone.

It was all meaningless crap. I hated it. Even when Jennifer and I were together. We treated it as a joke. Mr and Mrs Duponzer. One of those old European names now Anglicized. It sounded French and looked Dutch, maybe Belgian. I once asked them in a fit of boredom. They did not know. Mr Duponzer did not care. He only laughed. His wife did the talking. She thought it was an English name but maybe not, what did it matter.

People here didnt care about such stuff. If there were positive aspects to this bar then that was one. Issues around race and ethnicity were irrelevant. Generational gaps were different. I was one of the youngest regulars and was patronized accordingly. Which was interesting in reference to Jennifer. This married guy she was seeing, he was still married. Him and his wife lived in separate abodes during the week but under the same roof every weekend! For the sake of the kids.

Oh yeah. I cleared my throat when she said that, reached for the beer. Why did she fall for such crap? For the sake of the family, the collective unit. Whatever that was supposed to mean. In my experience families were not collective units, more like disparate noumena. Collective units is a joke.

Only for some, she said. Perhaps for you.

Mm, I said, and nothing further. This asshole went round and stayed with his wife and family every single weekend. He never returned to his own place until Monday evening, after work. Every Sunday morning they went bowling together, on Saturday evenings they had trips to the movies, they went to the park. All of it. They even went swimming to a members-only swimming club.

Her as well, I said, his wife?

His wife what?

She goes on these bowling and swimming trips?

I suppose.

Do you share his weekday home?

No. Although I could: if I wanted.

Has he asked you?

The option is there.

So he has asked you?

The option is there.

Mm. I nodded.

What?

Nothing.

So why are you saying mm and nodding your head in that manner?

What manner?

I said to you that the option is there and it is there.

Fine.

The two of us prefer it that way. It might sound incredible to you, sorry. But it’s common in other social circles.

That people have two homes?

Sometimes.

Jennifer that isnt social circles it’s economic circles. If what you’re saying is true then I wouldnt trust this guy as far as I could throw him.

Nobody is asking you to trust him.

It is garbage.

To you maybe. Other people dont see it that way.

If he is seeing his wife every weekend and then seeing you through the week, at his convenience, because at other times he is completely free, because you have your own place as well, so he can do whatever he likes, so I mean I dont know, he only just I dont know – except

What …?

I dont trust him, and would never trust him, not in a month of Sundays. You know what I’m talking about.

No Mike sorry, I dont.

Come on.

Come on what?

It’s obvious.

What’s obvious?

How do you know he doesnt have another girlfriend? I shrugged. Another two girlfriends? Three. Know what I mean, you’re talking transmitted diseases here.

Dont be revolting.

She gazed around to see if anybody was listening. Mr and Mrs Duponzer were staring into space. She shook her head. I cannot believe you, you are so horrible.

Well I’m not trying to be horrible I mean for God sake, does he wear condoms?

I beg your pardon!

I whispered, You are too trusting. That’s you all over just trusting people all the time, you always trust them.

I’m not discussing this with you.

Yes you are Jenny that’s exactly what you are doing. That’s why you came and dragged me out the house.

She stared at the untouched orange crap.

At least be honest about it. You are too trusting. Apart from where I’m concerned. You trust everybody except me, you believe everybody except me. And I’m the one, I’m the one …

I stopped. Because there was no point. And my head, my head was just – enough. Was there ever such a being as a weak woman? It was a figment of the collective male imagination.

She grinned.

How come? Because I was smiling, because I was remembering something, stupid goddam cat.

What is it? she said.

That old fucking stupid saucer!

The cat’s?

Yeah. I gave you it for an ashtray and the cat licked it poor bastard.

If you prefer me not to smoke then I wont.

I’m not saying that.

Jennifer nodded, she was holding a pack of cigarettes. Do they still have the non-smoking section?

Every bar has a non-smoking section. Outside the door.

Thanks.

Sorry.

Nowadays they dont want you smoking at the door.

I dont want you smoking at all, but so what, it’s personal. If you’ve got to do it you’ve got to do it. I’m not going to make it hard for you. If you want to step outside the door I shall accompany you, be it hailing or raining or whatever the hell.

She had a cigarette halfway out the packet.

You are a member of the public, I said, so you do have certain entitlements, certain prerogatives. It’s obviously a surprise seeing you smoke again because you did so well beating the habit in the first place.

Obviously?

Obviously?

You said obviously.

Because it is a surprise. I admired you so much for stopping. I’m talking in the first place, you showed fine determination

It wasnt in the first place, I smoked in the first place.

Nobody smokes in the first place.

My mother and father both smoked. So it was in me from birth, pre-birth. My mother and father were nicotine addicts. Why are you frowning?

I’m not frowning I just, I dont believe you.

But it is true, whether you believe me or not. They gave my mother an ashtray in the delivery room.

That is nonsense.

Jennifer smiled.

Honestly?

Yeh.

What was it a private hospital?

Of course.

I knew your parents were stinking rich. You only pretended they werent.

She chuckled – a laugh more, a quiet laugh, a beautiful laugh. I was expecting her to say something more but she was not, she was not being trapped into it. Never. Never never never.

How come I ever had her as a girlfriend in the first place! She was way way beyond me! Way way beyond! She was just

something. Something else. She was watching me. Sorry.

What?

I do apologize.

For what?

I looked at her when she asked that. Really, it was some question. For what! For smiling, I said, it is just so goddam fucking ironic.

I know.

You know? Yeh, of course you do. Let me tell you something; I felt good this morning. When I woke up, I felt good. Now a massive great shadow is hovering above me. It is you that’s brought it. You’ve created it. I’m talking about you, your presence.

She held the unlit cigarette between the fore and middle fingers of her right hand. Then she winked.

Yes I tried to smile, I did, I failed. I sniffed slightly and drank a little beer. I realized about the wink, why she had
winked at me. She had caught me in the act of staring at her. I was staring at her. That was why she winked.

Lines from old movies. Damn you woman! I should have been wearing a Noël Coward smoking-jacket. Damn you woman! James Mason. Damn you woman! She would be in the long black dress, those black silk gloves that come up to the elbow and all wrinkles but intentional wrinkles: silk. And her elbows, her shoulders, and her neck.

Former intimacies. Her body.

I could have thought more things. These were pressing my mind. Memories so solid they were physical. Yes I had been staring. I carried on staring. Simply the fall of her breasts. Once upon a time I would have blushed, the blood coursing, tugging the bra below, my tongue to the nipple. Had she forgotten!

All of it.

How familiar I was with her body. She must have forgotten. I had no sympathy for her and that is the God’s truth. None at all. I wished it were untrue because I did feel for her, something for her. It was undeniable. If I could have been more sympathetic I would have been, but I could not.

Nothing could be done about that.

How had we ever managed to be intimate! Seriously intimate. Yet we had. Not only sex. Sure we had sex, of course we had. Her beautiful body, and mine – my whatever one calls it, body, mess of a body, my body, the inexpressible. Men’s bodies are not so good.

One of life’s sour mysteries.

Women and bodies. Sometimes I gazed at myself in the mirror when I was naked. A gaze is a vacant look. One sees nothing in particular, general traits and appearances. I was all misshapen. My testicles were the strangest-looking objects. My knees and thighs were so thin. Too thin. No woman could fall for me.

Nor had she fallen for me. It was me, I had fallen for her. I won her. I went after her, I broke her down. Everywhere she looked I was there till finally she caved in. Oh if I say yes maybe he’ll go away! That was what she thought. She said yes to get rid of me.

Then I lost her.

Yet she wouldnt have been here unless she needed me. Surely not? Why else? I have to ask, I have to ask, why you’re here and telling me all this? You knew I wouldnt be sympathetic. How could I be? These married men bastards, they’re out-and-out – well, that is what they are, bastards, not to put too fine a point on it. Cant they just leave people alone?

She smiled.

It is not me that is naive, I said, it is you. That is the trouble. You think you are smart but you arent, not really.

She shook her head.

Face the fact, it wasnt you made the first move with this guy. You might think it but you did not. You are kidding yourself about that. It was him. Guaranteed.

She sighed, glanced towards the door.

I’m telling you how it was Jenny. He put himself in your way. He made sure you were aware of him. You would not have made the move if he hadnt set it up. I’m
not saying he forced you against your will; what I’m saying is it would not have happened unless he allowed it, it was him made the running. There is a word for that, and I cant think of it. But it has to do with psychological, it is psychological.

A word for psychological?

Excuse me?

Sorry, she said, but is it a word for psychological you’re looking for?

I’m not looking for anything.

Oh, I thought you were.

Well I’m not.

Sorry.

Was she being sarcastic? How could she have said that? Not to me! Surely not. Now she was smiling. I might have predicted it. Such a strange phenomenon. She had that ability to smile her way out of trouble. Women do. Not only women. Mainly women. And politicians. Smile smile smile. It was a sickening spectacle.