The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man (10 page)

I’m relieved to get back to the
normality of work on Monday, so much so, I’m early.  I’m craving routine
and something other than Arian/Karina to think about, and Agnes, bless her
soul, comes right to my rescue.

‘Morning Louisa,’ she says briskly,
looking briefly, carefully at me for a second.  ‘I’ve decided that it’s
time we updated all the old customer records, to see who is and isn’t current.
They’re mostly in that cupboard over there.’

My heart sinks.  Okay.  I need
to absorb myself in work but I simply loathe filing.  I’ve seen the
cupboard.  It’s a mess.  This will keep me busy for days, if not
years.

‘Most of them are on the computer, but
can you check as you go, and keep a pile of those that aren’t?  Thank you,
dear.’

Then she’s back to organising the vets’
calls again.  Agnes calls me ‘dear’ quite often now.

Actually, once I get started, it’s not
too bad a job and what with answering the phones as well, keeps me occupied
,.
 Miles pops in, looking worried as usual, and Marcus
and Emma have been out on calls since first thing.  Beamish turns up half
an hour late.  It seems he’s taking semi-retirement quite seriously.

‘Morning Agnes,’ he beams at her.
 Then he notices me.  
‘Ah, Louisa.
Um
feeling better I hope?’  Then not waiting for my answer, he absently says,
‘Good, good.’  Then, ‘um...’ before he looks around vacantly and wanders
off again, completely in his own little world.

Parsifal, our inmate horse who had
surgery, is doing really well.  I don’t think Sam’s been home since that
horse arrived. There’s evidence, however, that he may not have been alone
all
weekend...  I found some rather skimpy pink knickers in the hay store
earlier, which I carefully disposed of when no-one was looking.  A model
of discretion I am, these days.  Elmer found them actually.  She’s
always had a penchant for underwear. 

Back to Parsifal, he’ll probably be home
by the end of the week.  His insides are working just fine, if the amount
of mucking out I’m doing is anything to go by.

The next call from a client however, chills
me.  It’s Ben.  One of his event horses has been taken ill.
Apparently he’s called Emma, but she’s up to her ears in something miles away
and he doesn’t think the horse can wait.

‘Could you get someone out here as soon
as possible?’ He’s clearly desperate.

‘No problem,’ I say.  ‘Someone will
be with you in twenty minutes.’

Beamish.
 After all, he’s wandering aimlessly around at this minute, doing
absolutely diddly squat.  It’s high time that man did some work and so I
hunt him down in his office, where he’s quietly perusing the pictures on his
wall.  

‘Are you busy Beamish?’ I ask him a
little impatiently, because he’s clearly not.  ‘Only it’s Ben Mavers.
 He’s really worried about one of his event horses.  I said you’d be
over right away.  I hope that’s okay?’

Beamish gives me a fatherly smile.
 ‘Er,
call
him back will you Louisa, and tell him
I’ll be there in ten minutes.’  I call Ben and tell him five.
 Beamish drives like a maniac.  Then cross my fingers for his horse.

Then it’s back to the contents of my
lovely cupboard.

By the end of the day, I’m more relaxed.
 
And quite tired.
 
And
very relieved to have got through twenty four hours without a drama of some
description, because my personal life seems to have turned into a soap opera.

A few quieter days are just what I need,
while my brain churns the whole Karina thing around again, looking for a way to
make it feel less shocking.  The whole time she was just a name in my
head,
I could deal with it - just about - but somehow,
having seen her and where she lives, has dredged up the old feelings of
betrayal.  And although Marcus is right and it does take time to get over
trivial little things like busted marriages, I’ve since discovered that what
doesn’t kill you makes you stronger - and life is okay.

Ask me again in thirty seconds:
did I
actually say that
?

Someone’s knocking on my door. I’d
planned a quiet Friday night watching Friends on TV. Emma’s out gallivanting
with Ben, and I’m not expecting a visitor.  
Least of
all, this one, because when I open the door, it’s Arian.

I stand there and just stare at him.
 And the first thing that hits me is that I honestly don’t feel anything.
 Whether I’m numb, or whether it’s shock again or maybe I’m over him, I
couldn’t tell you.  And what the devil is he doing on my doorstep?

He looks terrible, I’m pleased to
notice.  
Older, greyer, more haggard.
 Not
handsome at all.  There are dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders
look stooped.  His clothes look awful too.

‘Hello Lou,’ he says, looking very
uncomfortable.  ‘Do you think I could come in?’

I stand there a little longer.  I’m
not sure I want him in my home, sullying the Arian-free surroundings that I’ve
grown rather comfortable with.

‘Do you know Arian?  I don’t think
you can.’  

Watch out buster, this worm has
definitely turned.
  I’m about to tell him where to
go, but then I see his face and something in me relents - God knows why.
 This is the man who betrayed me after all.  Instead of turning him
away, I take him round the back to my little garden where Horace nickers at me.

‘You’ve got another horse?’ he sounds
surprised, and stands there looking not very pleased.

‘Yes, Arian.
 He is indeed a horse.  You know I’ve wanted to do that for some
time.’ I say patiently.  
And didn’t because of you.

There’s a silence – I’ve nothing to
say.  I’m just intrigued to know why he’s here.

‘Why is it exactly, that you’re here?
 Our divorce is going through, the house is sold,
there
isn’t any other business between us now.’  

I must be an idiot even giving him the
time of day. But then, we
were
married I suppose.  Sometimes I’m
too reasonable for my own good.

He’s looking very downcast, and more
than a little nervous, fiddling with his fingers, not at all sure where to
start.

‘I’m sorry I spoilt everything, Lou,’ he
says at last, quite earnestly. ‘More sorry than you’ll ever know.  I think
I just got carried away.’

That’s one way of putting it, I think to
myself, staying incredibly civil as I let him continue.

‘You see, Karina and I had so much in
common.’  

The ‘had’ doesn’t go unnoticed.

‘We shared the same lifestyle,’ he
continues.  
‘Enjoyed the same interests.’

‘Interests?’
I say very calmly. ‘Oh I see, like sex, Arian, was that it? 
And aeroplanes maybe?
  Or was there something else?’

My self-control
is
astonishing
me.  I’m quite proud of myself.

We’re interrupted by another car
arriving.  A big one by the sounds of things and then Marcus appears
around the side of the house, carrying a bottle of wine.  Bit presumptuous
of him, isn’t it?  He didn’t even phone to see if I was free.
 Arian’s none too pleased to see I have a visitor.  
Especially a male one carrying a wine bottle.
  Marcus
isn’t looking too thrilled either. I stand up. I suppose I ought to introduce
them.

‘Arian, this is Marcus.  We work
together.  He’s a vet.’

‘Marcus, this is the wanker I told you
about, my adulterous ex-husband, Arian, the one who’s shagging Sylvie’s
daughter.’

Actually, what I really say is, in an
exaggeratedly polite manner, is, ‘Marcus, this is my
ex
-husband, Arian.’
 I emphasise the ex for both their sakes.

They actually shake hands, then stand
and glare at each other, neither of them saying anything.  This is
so
not how I planned my evening.

‘Marcus, sit down and join us,’ I say
firmly.

But Marcus hedges.  ‘It might be
better if I come back another time, Lou,’ he says and turns to leave.

I walk round with him to where his car
is.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say to him.  I
don’t know why I’m sorry, it’s not as though
I’ve
done anything.

‘It’s okay,’ he says abruptly.  ‘Go
on. Maybe there’s unfinished business between the two of you.  You were
married, after all.’

Which is annoyingly
decent of him when really I’d rather he stayed.

I watch him drive off, with a niggling,
irritated feeling gnawing at my stomach, wishing with all my heart that it was
Arian leaving instead.

Arian is staring at me when I go back
round.

‘A
work
colleague?’ he says
sarcastically, looking thoroughly narked.

‘Yes,’ I say equally
sarcastically.  ‘Just like you and Karina.  Actually, not at all like
you and Karina, not that it’s any of your bloody business.  Now for
goodness sake, get on with it,’ thinking the sooner he tells me why he’s here,
the sooner he can leave.

‘I was trying to tell you about Karina.
 That it’s over.’

And so I ask him, ‘And exactly what,
Arian, has that got to do with me?’

He winces.  Clearly I’m not
responding the way he’d been hoping.

‘I’ve realised what an idiot I’ve been,
walking out on our marriage like that, Lou.  
Without
even trying.’

I’m not sure I like where this is
going.  He continues.  ‘And I wanted to ask you, very humbly, if
there was any chance at all that we could try again.’

It’s too much. 

‘I think you better go,’ I tell him, my
eyes blazing.  But he’s not giving up.

‘Promise me one thing, Louisa.
 Think about it, okay?  Because we are at this moment, technically at
least, still married...’

That does it. I’m fuming.

‘Get the fuck out of my house and never
come back,’ I scream at him.  Why am I screaming?  I thought I was
so
over him.  ‘Go away, Arian. I want nothing more to do with you. 
Not ever.’

Thank God I don’t have neighbours,
though I should think everyone within a two mile radius heard my outburst.

At any rate, he gets the message and
leaves.

Horace is staring at me over the fence.
 I go over and kiss his lovely nose, and instantly feel soothed as he
soaks up all my stress.  Then I go over the conversation with Arian.
Damn
him
.  How dare he come here like
that.
 
The bit that
sticks in my head though, is
about still
being married, which theoretically, I suppose we are.  But he blew it big
time, didn’t he, when he shacked up with Karina. What reason could I possibly
have for giving him a second chance?

And then it dawns on me, only rather
than a dawn, it’s more like a dark cloud descending on me.  My flipping
marriage vows, that’s why.  I’m not overly religious, but I made those
vows from the bottom of my heart.  I promised to stay with him for better
and for worse.  And if this bit is the ‘for worse’, does that make me as
bad as he is, if I refuse to give him a second chance?

Thank heavens it’s the weekend, because
I really need a breathing space.  Luckily Horace is sound again and the
men in
lycra
are out in force, appearing noiselessly
behind us as we amble down the lane.  He goggles at them as they speed
past on their super whizzy bikes.  And we meet the scruffy chav with the
manky dog again.  Fortunately I don’t think he recognises me without
Elmer.

I feel my tension disappearing the
further we go into the countryside.  We’re out for two hours in the end,
just walking, listening to the birds, both of us loving every second of
it.  Then as we’re heading back, my mobile rings.  It’s Marcus.

‘How are you Lou?  I wondered if
you’d like to go out
tonight?
’

Gosh!  A proper date!  With
Marcus
!

‘Okay,’ I say.  ‘Thank you.
 I’d really like that.’

There’s a brief silence.  But then
he’s not used to me being enthusiastic about spending time with him.
 ‘I’ll pick you up at eight then.  Okay?’  He sounds as though
he’s smiling.

‘That’s great!’

Horace and I plod home, and suddenly I’m
really looking forward to this evening.

Marcus arrives bang on eight.
 Luckily I’ve been ready for ten minutes. Yes, I’ve actually made an
effort for him and he smiles approvingly when I open the door. He looks as
though he’s a bit spruced up too.  I get a peck on the cheek and catch a
hint of something spicy on his skin.

‘You ready then?’ he asks.

We drive to a pub I haven’t been to before.
 It’s called the Pig and Whistle and is very olde worlde, with a thatched
roof and a lovely garden.  Marcus finds us a table in a quiet spot and
goes to get us some drinks.  The sun is warm, and it’s blissful to sit
back and enjoy this wonderful place he’s brought me to.

Marcus returns with a chilled bottle of
wine, two glasses and a menu. As we peruse it, we discover a shared love of
seafood and order delicious platters of prawns, mussels and langoustines,
fragrant with garlic and herbs.  Squeezing lemons over, we share
them. 

It really is just about perfect. 
I’ve just realised how much I’m enjoying myself, when Marcus goes and ruins it.
 

‘So how did it go with your ex on
Friday?’

He might as well have thrown a bucket of
cold water over me, as in a split
second,
my carefree
mood is replaced by a particularly thunderous one.  Just thinking about
Arian does that to me.

‘Do you know,’ I say to him crossly, ‘I
was really enjoying myself until you asked me that.’

But Marcus isn’t smiling either.  

I sigh.  I actually feel quite
despondent.  I tell Marcus the gist of the conversation with Arian.

‘Trouble is
,
he’s actually made me think I have a duty to give our marriage another try.’

Marcus is silent,
then
says neutrally, ‘So how do you feel about that?’

Truthfully I reply, ‘I’m not at all
sure.  I mean it’s not that simple, is it?  In my heart, I don’t love
him.  I’ve completely fallen
out
of love with him.  It
honestly doesn’t bother me if I never see him again.  But in my head,
there’s something telling me that I made a vow and that’s the bit I happen to
think still matters.’  I hold my head in my hands, because this is really,
really hard.  ‘I wish it didn’t.  But you know
,
it’s that bit, ‘for better, for worse’.  Well, what’s going on now might
be the ‘for worse’ bit,’ I try to explain to him.  Then add slightly
nonsensically, ‘after all, what’s the point of marriage if you run off at the
drop of a hat?’

Marcus looks thunderstruck.
 ‘Louisa.  You don’t owe that wanker anything.  He’s the one
that ran off anyway.  Can’t you see?  He knows you too well.  He
obviously wants something and he’s playing on the honourable side of your
nature to take advantage of you.’

Goodness.  How illuminating.
 So Marcus thinks I have an honourable side.  I’m quite flattered.
 But it’s not helping my muddled thoughts one bit.

‘If I’m completely honest with you,’ I
say slowly, ‘then I think I’m going to have to arrange another meeting with
him.  At least, to hear what he’s got to say.’

Not surprisingly, it kind of kills the evening. 
Marcus is looking quite furious and we go home shortly after that.  I ask
him in, but he refuses, coming up with an excuse that is plainly just that.
 He’s suddenly distant, just when we were getting on so well.  But
sadly, there’s nothing I can do.  Except what I think I
ought
to
do, which is to call Arian and invite him over to talk.

I badly need a woman’s take on this. It
doesn’t seem right to burden Leonie at the moment with everything that’s going
on with Pete, so I call Emma and for once, she answers straight away.

‘Can you come round Em?  Only I
need your advice, wise vet friend,’ I say.

‘Of course Lou.
 Is about half an hour okay?  See you then.’

Emma’s reaction is a bit like Marcus’s, only
what she actually says is, ‘So he’s managed to screw up your marriage by
cheating on you, and now, just as you’ve scraped yourself together and are
getting back on your feet as a more or less happy single person, you’re going
to let him come waltzing back in to screw that up too.’ 

Then sits there looking
at me as though I’m certifiable.

And actually, she
almost
convinces me.  But there’s still my conscience whispering away in all its
misguided wisdom,
but you’re still married, it does make a difference,
remember the vows.
..

‘It’s not quite like that Em,’ I try to
explain, but clearly she thinks I’m off my rocker.

In spite of all well-meaning advice to
the contrary, I call Arian.
With some trepidation.
 
Best to get it over with, I decide.

‘Louisa!’  He sounds more like his
chirpy old self.  ‘How are you?’

‘I’m calling you, Arian, to ask you if
you want to come over this evening.  Just to talk, nothing more,’ I
emphasise firmly.

‘Yeah!
 Great!  What time?’  He sounds far too delighted.  Not one
bit like a penitent Casanova and I’m already beginning to regret this.

‘Er, six thirty?’ I say.

‘Okay, see you later.’  He’s gone.
 Just those brief words of conversation have left me tense and needing
some air.

Arian is early. It makes no difference.
 It’s not like I was going to any effort for him.

He leans forward to kiss me on the
cheek, and I immediately think of Marcus.  

‘You better come in.’ I lead him through
to my kitchen, indicating a chair at my table.

‘Beer, wine?’
I offer.

‘Wine would be nice.’

Even Elmer is cool with him and glues
herself
loyally to my side.  Then we sit across the
table from each other and I try to explain my line of thought.

‘I’ve thought about this a lot Arian,
since you came round before.  The bottom line is
,
you’ve completely destroyed our relationship.  
Smashed
it to pieces.
  There’s no love and certainly no trust.  I’m
not sure I even like you anymore.’  I can hardly believe what I’m saying.
 
‘The only thing left is the piece of paper saying we’re still
married. 
That,
and this voice in my head that I
honestly wish would shut up, telling me annoyingly and illogically, that even
though you didn’t, I ought to honour the vows I made.’

Arian’s face lights up most
inappropriately.  How can he be smiling when I’ve just told him that I
don’t love him?  Did he even listen to what I said?

But he’s taken my hands, telling me that
I won’t regret it, that I’m a wonderful person and in the next breath how he’s
never stopped loving me.

I snatch those hands back.  
‘Hands off, mate.
  I haven’t agreed to anything.
 Weren’t you listening? All I said was I’m having an argument with my
conscience.’

‘Oh,’ is all he says, looking like a
sulky little boy again.

‘However, as a compromise, I think we
should try dating.  See how it goes.  But only for now, that’s all.’

Arian looks a little more sober at last.
 Good.  He’s realised at last that I don’t feel the same enthusiasm
he does.

‘So, it’s over to you Arian.  Those
are my terms.  Take it or leave it.’  Hoping he’ll just walk away.

‘Okay,’ he says slowly.  
Reluctantly.
 ‘It’ll be very odd though.’  Then in
a rush he adds, ‘Couldn’t we just move back in together and carry on where we
left off?’

But he sees the expression on my face,
and rapidly adds, ‘No, of course not.  Sorry.’

He goes after that, more subdued than
when he arrived, and I’m unashamedly relieved to see the back of him.