Caroline Alone Ch. 01

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Now he can't think what to do with the rest of the day. He daren't go to work as he's said he's ill, and he'd rather not go home because he doesn't want to be alone. Not for the first time he wonders whether he has the willpower to continue this farce. All his strength is taken with holding things together and it's too much – it would be a relief to decide he can't cope and run for his life – let his wife come home to an empty house. But he can't do that to the children and knows there's no alternative to carrying on. He'd better get used to being alone and he goes home and falls asleep, waking only a while before it's time to collect the children from school.

It's their habit for the first home to cook for all unless they have previously agreed otherwise. Caroline is frequently late on days when she's not collecting the children, but today he expects her at six. Now he wonders how many of these late evenings involve meetings with Damien. A nasty stab to the gut is prompted by the thought: is she with Damien now? He examines the idea while chopping vegetables, searching for the point where he failed his marriage. He must have disappointed Caroline and been too absorbed to notice the signs. After all, he had months to realise his wife was having an affair and failed. Isn't that enough proof of the gulf between them? He'd thought they were a good combination – her spontaneous common-sense and his intellect, but now he wonders if she's always despised his introversion and lack of fun. Had she simply become bored and gone looking elsewhere?

Five minutes later he dismisses this line of treason. Caroline's a force of nature and it's just as likely he's the victim of misfortune. She met someone by chance and fell in love. There need not have been any intent on her part. She'd grown close to Damien and affection had turned to love and desire. Led into a false situation, she adapted to a life of deceit and betrayal, unable to force a way out. He throws a potato into the sink and shouts as loud as he can. She's fucked everything up. She thinks she's sorted out the mess and believes they can live as they are – husband and lover and her flitting between the two. There need not be any pain – at least, for her. "See who's the smart one!" she must be thinking. Caroline has never lacked confidence. She has a plan and he's playing along admirably. She must be very happy.

The children come running to find out why he shouted and he makes up a story about banging his funny bone. Minutes later, Caroline arrives and helps finish the meal. She's relaxed with him and asks him about his day. Jack wonders if she's especially hungry and eager to eat.

"I don't know how you can eat a big lunch and come home to a meal like this," he tells her as they sit down to lamb chops, mashed potato, fresh runner beans and gravy.

"I only had a sandwich at my desk," she replies. As hard as he searches he can detect no hint in her face of embarrassment at her lie or unease at being reminded of her lunchtime.

He's still not hungry and gives his chop to Ben, whose appetite is bottomless. There's no need for him to talk to Caroline; the children are happy with the meal and full of their own world of teachers and lessons and friends who said this, did that. He throws in the odd comment but mostly watches his wife. She changed from her work suit before joining in the cooking and wears a shapeless black top and slacks, her hair pinned back and her makeup scrubbed off. There's no need to look good for her family. She's relaxed and happy, making comments to keep her children talking and occasionally glancing at her husband.

He meets her eye. "I went out at lunchtime. Drove to Dixborough where I remembered there's a traditional hardware shop in the street behind the market cross."

"Why did you do that sweetie?"

She's very good – apart from the false endearment, not a hint of anxiety or embarrassment and she never once drops eye contact.

"To see whether they had a replacement cast iron fire grate that will fit our hearth. No luck, but they thought they might be able to get one if I take in the measurements. I may go back next week. It's a nice town – much quieter than here. Maybe we should move there some time. It's not too bad a commute."

"I don't think so dear. It's hardly convenient for schools and I like it here."

"The children won't be at school forever. Then we can do as we please."

Is there a hint of a question in her look? Why is my dull, unimaginative, routine-driven, reliable husband suddenly saying such things? He's not sure and it's his eyes that fall and he concentrates on his plate.

How could she do it? He knows his wife but he can't explain it properly. She's not a risk taker and never complains of being bored; far from it, her job never leaves her enough time for the things she wants to do. What she's done is like a form of mental derangement – schizophrenia with two personalities, good and evil, working in tandem: mother and whore – two roles interchangeable and equally suited to her inner self. He simply doesn't know her as well as he thought. And he's not at all sure he still likes her; she's no friend of his.

He lies in bed thinking his marriage is beyond words or explanation. This is where sane couples split – when confronted with an indigestible fact which provokes incoherent, unspeakable thoughts. Why put up with the pain? Why try to understand it when annihilation gives a way out? Destroy the marriage and the problem will be gone. He should do it, but still he isn't ready. Fear stops him acting – fear of failure and loneliness. He knows he's pathetic.

***

Living a lie made Caroline prey to unfamiliar fears. Everything that was said – by her and others – was scrutinised to check that it revealed no chink in her protective armour. The more successful she was, the more it mattered to continue the success.

She no longer asked herself why she did it. It was enough that it happened and now she and Damien had to let the affair take its course. She loved Jack and her family but she loved Damien too. She couldn't abandon him. There was no point in feeling guilty and in any case she paid for her happiness every day in the effort of managing her double life.

It no longer surprised her that it happened. Jack worked too hard. He led a large analytics team in a bank, working on complex numeric analysis of investment and credit risk. She didn't pretend to understand his work, but had always been in awe of his success. He sometimes brought in astonishing bonuses with his salary, but also pressure to deliver difficult projects, combined with the hardship and frustration of working in a difficult and uncongenial business climate. Jack mostly didn't show the stress he was under, but at times it made him depressed and difficult to live with – withdrawn and uncommunicative, snappy with the children and seemingly absorbed in watching sport on television and reading history – an interest from his time at university. If only he'd do something spontaneous, show a little enjoyment and sparkle, she thought she'd have never been open to Damien's attention. She didn't blame Jack; she only wished she understood better what he needed and that she didn't feel that he sometimes found her wanting. He was clever and deep and it was easy to feel inadequate in trying to be a good wife, unable to support him.

Her main objective was to keep Jack happy and she was very cautious about letting Damien take her time from the family. Yes, there had been occasions at the weekend when she had wriggled out of something she would once have enjoyed doing with the family, but she was severe on herself and this was rare. Most weeks she saw Damien only for their lunchtime meeting and the fleeting nature of their encounters made them more precious. One of the special rewards of the relationship was that with Damien there was no need to negotiate endlessly and compromise over the details of life – who's picking up the kids, who made this mess, why didn't you buy milk when I asked you, how did you manage to lose my new gloves? She and Damien expressed their demands on one another directly and found they liked the result. Just getting into the car to drive to his house was an escape from the pressures of life so that by the time she arrived she felt ten years younger. She could think of nothing more blissful than the first hugs and caresses when she arrived, the urgency that came from anticipation, and the rapid growth and release of passion.

Afterwards when they were wrapped in one another's arms, or on the settee with a meal and a DVD, her time with Damien seemed entirely separate – so full, so perfect, it was impossible to think of it as harmful. Caroline returned to her family from these escapades invigorated and full of love, seeing everything in a new, clearer light. The first moments alone with her husband were always electric as she digested an irrational fear that he must know what she'd been doing, that it was imprinted on her flesh, the blush still on her face and visible to all. But he would kiss her calmly or pat her arm with unreasonable good humour, as if nothing had happened.

"I've just fucked another man!" she wanted to scream. But of course she was pleased and relieved that Jack saw nothing. Her anxiety about one or two things was simply the result of her obsessing about covering her tracks.

The greatest shock came when Jack told her about going to Dixborough at lunchtime. She wanted to believe she was terrified by her narrow escape from disaster, but she knew it was untrue. What she'd experienced when Jack told the story was not terror, or guilt, but pleasure – the thrill of the sky diver or bungee jumper in the moment of escape from disaster. Her success made her charitable and she felt compassion and sympathy for Jack. Having won, she wanted to make him feel better – until the next time.

It was harder to manage the balance with Damien, who showed signs of anxiety and vulnerability as the affair progressed from early infatuation to obsession. He loved Caroline so that it was hard for him to let her go back to her husband. His was the least secure position and he wanted to be with her always. When he hinted at this she dismissed him casually.

"Dam, it's an affair and we're doing well. You see much more of me than most lovers would manage. We've got this worked out and it's important not to get greedy."

"But I'm alone when you leave me. You don't realise how hard it is."

"Come off it Dam, it's you who wanted a bachelor life without commitments. We're doing really well so don't spoil it."

"If only we could have a weekend away. It could be fixed with a little ingenuity."

"No."

"I think you're hard."

"It's an asset. I have to be."

One day, after they'd made love beautifully and were cuddled together in Damien's warm bed, he said, "Are we doing the right thing or is this just a dream? I can't face the thought that you will suddenly vanish into the air."

"Don't be anxious," she replied. "What we have is perfect and we know how to make it work. We'll be fine."

"But it's so risky, living a secret life like this. One mistake and we're done. Unless you leave your husband."

"I'll never do that. But we won't make a mistake. Even if we did, everyone will get over it. Life is too good for this to be wrong."

"But if your husband knew, how would you handle it?"

"He'll never know. He trusts me – it's his style. But if he did, he's a reasonable man and I'd get him to understand this from my point of view."

"I want more time with you, not less. I see so little of you and it's not enough, given how much you mean to me."

"We have to keep our discipline – we agreed. It's how we keep safe."

"If we can't have a weekend I want a whole day together when there's no pressure of time and we can relax and I'm not spooked every minute thinking about you going back to your husband."

"Get a grip Dam, you're becoming jealous. One day the opportunity will come and we'll have a great time. But you must be patient."

"This month."

"We can hope."

When he shook his head and looked dismal, she grabbed him and pulled him on top of her.

"Now make love to me again and show me why I'm the luckiest woman alive."

Damien's possessiveness was a worry. It was certainly not what Caroline wanted from her lover. His part was to stay strong and understand that her husband was the man who needed protection. She'd warn Damien to cut it out and reward him with a day together. As he'd said, it was only a matter of working out how to do it and choosing the moment.

But she resented his attitude and thought him selfish. He knew she loved her husband and her family because she'd explained it to him right at the start. She'd given so much to him and he had no reason to feel aggrieved. And if he was struggling with the emotional pressures of having a lover then he should consider how much harder it was for her.

All the same she was moved by his love in ways she hadn't expected. She loved Dam, of course; she'd not have an affair with a man she couldn't love; but her experience of the affair was nothing compared to his uncontrollable need for her. He wanted to shower presents on her and carry her away so that he could possess her absolutely. Much of this annoyed and frustrated her because it was unrealistic, but she loved the sensation of mattering so much to this man. There could be few women alive so much loved as she.

His demands prompted something like guilt because the man who had not complained throughout was Jack. Far from feeling that Damien deserved more of her time, she knew that to stay on plan she had to give more to her family. Just this last week she'd been conscious of how stressful life at home had become. There was nothing specific to make her uneasy but she sensed that Jack was difficult to capture in friendly conversation. Instead he'd developed an uncomfortable knack of saying things that jarred by reminding her of her secret life.

Only the day before he'd said at breakfast: "Why do we have to have crap coffee in this house? We can afford better coffee than this stale, muddy, lukewarm filter stuff. I'm sure most people do much better. Do you know anyone who's got one of those automatic bean-to-cup machines that makes coffee in whatever style you want?" He looked directly at her, eyes forcing hers to meet his. "Have you ever had a coffee from one of those machines?"

What was this? "Not sure what type of machine you mean, Jack," she replied with forced calm. "But if it bothers you we could look at machines at the weekend. As you say, if there's one you want I'm sure we can afford it."

"I'd like to try one first," he replied. "I'll find someone who's got one and get myself invited to coffee."

"You do that."

She'd missed the bullet and felt a little thrill once more at her successful effrontery, but was alarmed by the conversation. What had brought that about and why did he sound angry with her because of the coffee situation? As far as she could recall it was he who'd bought the filter machine he now considered so inadequate.

Back home from Dixborough, Caroline would rush to catch up with family life, preparing a meal and chasing things for the children. On the day of Damien's missing lunch she made a special effort and was so busy there was a delay before she realised that Jack had failed to come over and greet her. What was the matter with him? She put aside her worry and breezed on with motherly things. Even though Jack seemed unaware of the need, she'd make a special effort to reconnect with him later.

When she wanted to go to bed, Jack was working on his computer. She suggested a drink but he didn't join her in the sitting room and the idea was forgotten. When it was their normal bed time he was still working on a budget estimate for work. Usually he'd put work aside and if necessary get up early to finish it. This time he said he'd continue while the issues were fresh in his mind. Caroline went to bed alone.

It troubled her that the affectionate touches, so much a part of their marriage, were now rare. They were both busy and the glue that kept them together were the little moments of closeness, the peck on the lips, the silent, reassuring caress, the cuddle at night or in a moment in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. By their nature these little acts were unplanned and so it was natural for there to be more such moments for a while, and fewer at other times. She struggled to remember whether Jack had initiated such a touch since the weekend. Lovemaking was a less reliable test of feeling. They'd not made love since the weekend, but it was not unusual to miss an opportunity in the week. They always made up at the weekend. Caroline determined that the simple answer to her concern was to get Jack to bed with her.

The next day she prepared dinner and when Jack arrived he ignored her welcome and went into the garden where the children were playing on the slide and began a game of rough and tumble.

"What was that about?" wondered Caroline. She finished cooking the lasagne, laid the table and put out bread and water. She added some olives and balsamic vinegar, which Jack liked, and called everyone to sit down.

The children were hungry and had a lot to say about their day, and all was well. When they were done, she washed and bathed the children and made them brush their teeth, as usual when she was home; then Jack spent a long time getting them into bed with stories and chatter. She used the time to have a bath herself and clear her mind, newly aware that it wasn't enough to go through the motions of her plan, but that she had to live it to the full. That meant giving Jack every corpuscle of her attention.

He eventually came down stairs and she was seated in her dressing gown in the sitting room with a magazine.

"Fancy a drink?" she asked, glancing up with a welcoming smile.

"Not for me. I have to be sharp tomorrow to deal with the circling sharks."

"Trouble at work? I've an idea to take the stress away."

She got up from the settee and advanced towards him. Horrified, he stepped to one side and pointed.

"I've told you so many times not to put your glass on that polished coffee table without using a coaster,"

What was going on? She didn't remember him ever saying such a thing before.

"Come off it Jack, don't be ratty. We don't care about petty things like that. It's pointless in a house full of children." She concentrated hard and kept calm. "You going to bed? It's getting late and I thought it might be an idea to tuck ourselves in a little early."

Jack shrugged dismissively. "I've got a cold and don't want to pass on any bugs. Sex is a killer when it comes to transmitting disease."

He turned to watch her and she looked uncertain. "Really, between husband and wife you can't worry about passing on a cold."

"Maybe, but I'd rather stay clear. It's an unnecessary risk."

She withdrew, confused once again by Jack's ability to say things touching her secret life with Dam. She'd worried about unprotected sex and STDs and decided it was a risk worth taking with Dam. And she couldn't ask Jack to wear a condom, but she was only expecting him to take the same risk that Damien was happy to accept.

***

Jack is aware that his plan has delivered none of the expected benefits. At home he's strained relations just as he planned, without affecting the children. Caroline must surely realise she has no hope of sustaining her double life in a comfortable balance. But on the negative side she's not been put off her extramarital visits.

He must improve his game. He sees they are meeting twice a week now – perhaps a consequence of the frustration Caroline must feel at Jack's denial of affection. Maybe that's a way to win, to make things worse – so bad they can only get better. Caroline must surely realise by now that her relationships have overbalanced. Her husband and lover are not equally content. If she values her marriage she must start working hard to save her husband. The problem for Jack is that she shows no sign of realising this.