A Place Beyond The Horizon Ch. 04

[Aidan's marriage has been shattered by his wife's cheating. Unable to cope with the thing she did, he boarded a plane and put as much distance between them as possible. He finds himself in Australia, making new friends in Sydney, including a pair of mates on a road trip around their vast, empty continent. He's also met Kat, sharing her bed, the first time in many years that he's been with a woman who isn't his wife. Now, he's back on his own again as everyone goes their separate ways.

The background to Aidan's story can be found in Oxygen Games by oneagainst, continued here with permission]

---

THE RIPTIDE

Aidan is on the balcony of the pub, watching the foot traffic in the pedestrian mall below, with his phone on the table and a beer in his hand, alone. There is an excited squeal, and he follows its source to three girls in little bikinis below him on a bench, huddled around a phone, babbling excitedly. It spurs him to pick up his own phone, and he finds himself scrolling through his feeds in the late afternoon sun.

It's fairly quiet in the pub. He'd gravitated to it after seeing Hardy and Flint off on the next stage of their epic adventure around the Australian coastline. Hardy had been all bullshit and bluster, showing no hint of the conversation out on the water. He clearly wanted to keep his travel companion in the dark about the reasons for the trip and how it was being funded. It was wrong, Aidan thinks to himself, but he can see why Hardy is doing it. He has to admit to himself that he would probably do the same. Hardy's destination is preordained, inescapable, the only choice remaining to him now is how he meets the end.

Aidan takes another swig of his beer, feeling the sun on his skin. He tries to imagine what it's like for Hardy, to know that time is ticking away, that he can do nothing about it. Aidan shudders and takes another sip of beer, pushing the dark thoughts from his mind. It's not helping.

With the boys gone, he feels lonely. He taps on the screen, sending a quick message to Kat to wish her a good flight. It feels like everyone's getting on with their plans, going their own ways. They had all given him a subtle invitation to tag along, but here he is, drinking on his own. If the boys had been heading down to Melbourne, maybe it would have been different. Maybe if the arrows of fate had been all aligned in the same direction, he would have followed them. Instead, rudderless, here he is, just waiting for the next thing to happen.

He looks through his message notifications. Ant has commented on his Sydney harbour sunset picture, calling him a tease for clearly having such a good time while Ant is stuck at work. Theo, his boyfriend, has liked the shot too, and there is a steady drip of people on his follower list reacting to his first post after such an unusually long gap. He scrolls to the bottom, reacting back, sending comments on their comments, until he gets to the bottom. Rosa hasn't commented, though he knows she would have been notified. Unless she'd blocked him.

Aidan holds his phone in one hand and his beer in the other. He takes a gulp, tasting the bitterness of the cold, amber drink. In the back of his mind, it still feels wrong to be back on the alcohol after a year of abstinence while they'd tried for a baby. He hadn't liked the idea at first, but he'd done it for Rosa, to maximise their chances.

Not that it had worked. For some reason, the dream he'd had months ago about the clinic comes back to him, of his wife emerging with a purple velvet pouch containing two beautiful golden marbles. After all the treatments and the cycles, they'd just simply run out of viable eggs, leaving the last two. One had gone on ice and the other one had been inserted, but it hadn't survived. Now here they were, separated by a vast distance in space and an even wider one in their relationship. He remembers her face, the last time he ever saw her, in their kitchen in the morning after she'd come home and confessed to sleeping with the guy from the coffee shop. She had been remorseful and scared and vulnerable and gloriously beautiful. She'd broken his heart.

He feels his eyes pricking with moisture and he blinks rapidly, trying to quell the awful empty feeling before it overwhelms him, in public in the bar. His memory is relentless, though, playing that scene back, and then shifting, mercilessly, to his wife in the car with the window down in high summer and her dark hair fluttering around her face, replaying the way she smiled at him. His memory is punishing him, a part of his mind that had very strong opinions on where he should be, and it wasn't here, in a pub, running away. A real man would fix all this. A real man wouldn't just turn tail. No wonder she cheated.

His finger taps the screen and he watches it working with a horrific fascination. The link is there on the side, in his contacts. He presses it and is met with his wife's face, smiling back at him from the screen. It's a post from yesterday, out on a boat on the lake back home, a group shot with Rosa in the middle effortlessly drawing the eye. She's in a tank top and tight, white pants with shades tucked into her hair, arms across the shoulders of two girls he doesn't recognise. He scans the rest of the faces. They're all new to him, except the man standing behind his wife raising a beer in a toast to the camera. It's Davey.

Aidan places the phone down on the table and runs a hand through his hair. He can't look away. Rosa is smiling for the camera, absolutely gorgeous, her eyes sparkling. She looks relaxed and happy. He looks at Davey, his friend, the property guru, the guy always between girlfriends. His guts churn and he blanks the screen.

The voice in his head is insistent now: what did you expect? It was always going to come to this. Rosa is stunning; it stands to reason that there would be a line of men with whom she could fill the gap left behind in her life by Aidan. That Davey would be the first to try doesn't surprise him. That was Davey's mode of operation: an opportunist, a wheeler-dealer. He'd simply seen an option come up unexpectedly on a prime opportunity and was moving to secure it. The worst part is that there's nothing Aidan can do. She'd cheated. He couldn't just turn up and beg for her to come back. Yeah, it was always going to come to this.

He picks up his phone again and flicks to his photos, anything to banish his wife from the screen. There is a picture of himself with Kat, with the Harbour Bridge lit up behind them in the dark. He finds himself staring at her face, but he doesn't feel the same. Kat had been wonderful, but it feels like a shallow impression next to Rosa. But, he chides himself, wait: it was always going to be hard starting new things, comparing with the past.

He flicks through his messages and finds the one he's looking for, taps the number and waits as it rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi Marley, uh, we met this morning. It's Aidan. I was wondering if you had time to talk. You mentioned you had some work."

"Aidan, hi. Nice to hear from you. Uh, I'm in the middle of something right now, but yes. Do you want to meet up face to face? Are you still down in Manly?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just north of there. How about I pass by in an hour? There's a coffee place at the north end of the beach."

"Sounds good."

"See you then."

"See you."

He ends the call and downs the last of his beer, stuffing his phone roughly into the pocket of his shorts. He has that strange feeling again, like he's just reacting to things, caught in the flow. He strides downstairs and out into the sun, turning towards the beach and Hardy's face comes to him all of a sudden, unbidden. He remembers the way Hardy had looked out at the horizon, picking his wave and then turning. Aidan looks out now at the same view, then down to his feet. He turns left, heading north along the promenade to his meeting.

---

Marley is waiting for him, legs crossed in her activewear, grey hair coiled in a tight bun, slim and wiry. He hurries across the road.

"Hi," he says, "Sorry."

"No, I'm early. It didn't take as long as I thought."

Aidan nods. "Do you want a coffee, or...?"

"I'm fine with the water, but please sort yourself."

Aidan goes to the counter and orders himself a coffee. The beer hasn't slowed him down, but he's nervous and he wants to make a good impression. It's been a long time since he's been interviewed for a job.

Aidan collects his cup and sits in the chair opposite the older woman. She leans forward.

"So, tell me a little about yourself. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Aidan doesn't tell her everything, omitting some of the facts. He tells her about the gym, but not that he owns it with his wife. He doesn't mention Rosa at all. He talks about the strength training classes, the yoga. He details his early life and then the Ironman and marathon competitions, trying not to sound self-important while at the same time endeavouring to separate the narrative from the fact that his wife runs all the way through it, intimately entwined. As he talks, Marley nods, smiling encouragingly.

"So, fair to say that you're qualified?" she ventures.

"Uh, yeah. I have certificates in...."

Marley holds up her hand. "I'm sure, and yes, I would like you to email me them. What about a reference? Your boss in the gym?"

Aidan stops: fuck. Marley can see it too, the hesitation. She's left it to the end, until he was feeling comfortable, his guard down, then she'd just dropped it in. Her eyes are fixed on his.

"Is that an issue?" she probes.

Aidan leans back in his chair, letting out a long, slow breath as he meets her gaze. He has nowhere to go but through the middle of it.

"Yes," he confesses.

"Didn't part on good terms?"

"No."

Marley folds her arms and he knows he's blown it. "Why?" she asks.

Aidan has nothing to lose. "She's my wife."

Marley doesn't respond, but she doesn't break eye contact either.

"Ah."

Aidan studies her face closely, but he can't read her expression. All he can do is wait.

"That would explain why you're here, so far away, looking for work."

Aidan nods reluctantly.

"Fair enough. I'll tell you what, I have a session tomorrow morning booked in a rest home up on the back of the hill. They're wonderful old dears, really. I hope I'm still going that good when I get to that age. I'll pick you up at eight and let's see how you go."

With that she gets up out of her chair and Aidan stands too. She offers her hand and Aidan shakes it.

"Just a trial," she says, "No promises, so let's see how you go. If you survive them, you'll get through anyone."

There is a hint of a smile on her face.

"I'll do my best," he replies.

"Oh yes, you will. You'll need to."

---

Marley seems to warm to him over the next few days, giving him jobs, but always alongside her, or with her in the background. She splits her fee, but it's not a lot, not enough for Aidan to consider moving out of the hostel, though enough at least for him to splash out on a room to himself. After a particularly memorable night with a gaggle of Spanish backpackers falling into the dorm at two in the morning, he's realised he's past that stage in his life.

Aidan's on the seawall, watching the surfers. He hasn't been out since the boys had left because he doesn't trust himself out there on his own. Hardy had been a steadying influence, as well as a whirlwind. He gets out his phone and stares at the screen. There's a notification on his harbour sunset post but he's ignoring it.

There's also a smile from Kat, still sitting there from the chat session he's got open. He's been in contact with her a couple of times now, talking and messaging. She's busy at work, busy preparing for the wedding of the century, suffering Kelsey's mood swings. He begins to type.

A: At least you're not the one marrying her.

Kat comes back straight away.

K: She's a real bridezilla. I was never as bad as this

She follows it up with a cross-eye face and a handgun aimed at the head. Aidan smiles to himself.

K: I might be in Sydney before the end of the month. You still going to be around?

A: Yeah, at this rate

He stares at the screen, waiting for her to type.

K: Late for meeting

A: Okay, have a good day

K: See you

K: In Sydney?

Aidan hugs the phone in his hand.

A: Sounds nice

Nice was the wrong word, and he regrets it. It doesn't adequately explain how he's feeling, sitting in the morning sun at the north end of the beach as he waits for Marley to arrive. It feels like a new life is slowly materialising around him, an alternate reality that doesn't involve heartbreak or infertility or infidelity: maybe he has a job, maybe he has a... what? A girlfriend? It's all far too early to tell.

His finger taps the notification, and the harbour picture pops up on screen. At the end of all the reactions, there's just a smiley face. It's from Rosa. He taps on her name and is taken to her feed. Scrolling past the boat shot, she's posted one of her in skin-tight lycra with a rubber strength band around her arms, dark hair sticking a little to her glistening forehead and flushed cheeks. It's a standard shot, one that they would do at least once a week, together, and then post on the gym's page just to keep the interest up.

Now, though, he's looking at it differently, as an outsider looking in. It's a fresh perspective, and he finds himself studying her eyes, the determined look on her face. The lycra is tight over her chest, darkened a little by the perspirations from her cleavage. He wants to reach out and touch her, his body responding viscerally to her picture. Now, in a way he had never been able to before, he understands why she has so many followers. He reacts to the shot, sending a simple smiley face back, reciprocating her action to him, but no comment. He can't bear to send any words.

"Morning."

Aidan looks up quickly. Marley's walking up to him, all business in her activewear, honey-brown shoulders bare in the sun, carrying a holdall. The grey hair is wound tight and tucked under a baseball cap and she's wearing shades.

"Let's go," Aidan replies, jumping down onto the sand.

They're at the north end of the beach, up against the weather-sculpted sandstone cliffs. Marley sets up, pulling strength bands out of her bag. She checks her watch and then looks at Aidan.

"This one's all yours," she tells him, "Let's see how you go."

Marley retreats to the cliff, leaning back against the honey-coloured stone with its rippling patterns. She's watching him, and Aidan has no doubt that this is the final part of the interview process. The class is made up of half a dozen mothers, fresh from school drop-off. They pull up in shiny, new all-wheel-drive vehicles and meander across the beach in their activewear, chatting among themselves.

Aidan greets them and organises them into lines. Marley has given him the outline of the session, but Aidan improvises a little, walking the line as he puts them through their paces. They're a mixed bunch, some taking it very seriously as they stretch and bend their bodies on the sand. There are two who are clearly tagging along, probably for the coffee after. One smiles at Aidan and he's suddenly transported back to the gym.

Rosa had called it Milf Training: the classes of thirty-something women they would conduct mid-morning. She had made sure that Aidan did those sessions, joking about getting him tighter shorts. His wife knew what she was doing, putting him in front of the women; she knew how their business worked. Aidan smiles back at the woman in front of him on the sand, just enough to be friendly.

The class comes to an end, and Marley appears, mingling with the women. There's a question about Aidan.

"Oh, I thought I could use the help," Marley replies.

The woman nods, her eyes on Aidan. "It was a good session," she says, "He knows his stuff."

Marley laughs and the women pick up their bags and wander back across the beach. When she turns to Aidan, she's grinning.

"I think she misspoke," she says.

"How?"

"I think what she meant was, 'He knows he's stuff.'"

Aidan shakes his head.

"C'mon Aidan, you know the game. You said as much yourself. It's fifty percent exercise programme and fifty percent eye candy."

"So, you're pimping me out to the mother's group?"

Marley puts her hands on her hips. "Yep," she says, "It's just business."

When she smiles, Aidan begins to relax. He's passed her test.

"What's next, today?" she asks.

"Uh, I got nothing planned."

"Want to take a walk?"

"Sure."

Marley picks up the holdall and heads along the bottom of the cliff towards the sea. They climb steadily until they're on a wide rock shelf looking out at the cool water. There's a narrow passage cut directly into the cliff face, and she leads him through. On the other side, caught in the late morning sun, is a wide, flat space looking directly out at the blue horizon. She flops down, feet dangling over the edge. Aidan peers over at the drop, at the waves surging and crashing against the rocks. He lowers himself down next to her.

"You interested in more permanent work?" she asks, out of the blue.

"Yes. I need to get something."

"What are you living on now? The credit card?"

"Uh huh."

"The joint bank account?"

"Uh, yeah. It's shared."

"I guess you want a bit of independence."

"I guess."

Marley unzips the carryall and extracts her wallet. She counts out some money and passes it to him.

"Your first proper wages, then. It was a good session. The girls liked you."

"Thanks," he says, taking the money.

Marley's looking out to sea now, and Aidan finds himself waiting for her to say what's on her mind.

"It's a good spot, here," she says.

"Yeah, a good view."

"I don't just mean right here. I mean, all of this. Reminds me sometimes of California, on the coast."

"You been?"

"Yeah, lived there ten years. I went over with my husband. He was a band promoter, then an agent. We were over there thirty years ago."

"Why'd you come back?"

Marley laughs. "Infidelity."

She looks across at him, but Aidan doesn't quite know how to respond.

"Yeah, you see. I know more about it than you think," she said, "But the difference is that I could just come home as opposed to having nowhere to go. My mum took me in and I found some work over here."

There's a gap in the conversation and Aidan struggles to fill it.

"He still there?" Aidan asks.

"As far as I know. I haven't really had anything to do with him for twenty years. He could be dead by now, and I wouldn't know. He was certainly aiming for it when I left."

"What work did you do, when you got back?" Aidan asks.

He's trying to steer the conversation onto more comfortable terrain. He's not ready to go into cheating and breakups and all of that just yet, not with Marley, not with anyone.

"Dance," she says, "I trained as a choreographer. That's how we met. I was doing a routine for a show and he was there in the wings, watching me. We were a pretty good team, and heading over to L.A. it all just kinda fitted together, like it does sometimes. He was organising and booking the gigs and I was picking up dance work. Music videos, mostly."

She smiles, her eyes on the horizon. Aidan watches the surf pounding the rocks beneath their feet.

"You have no idea the work that goes into making a blonde bimbo with a bikini and a microphone look sexy on video."

Marley shrugged. "And then you would meet the next one and she would be sharp as a tack, working twelve hours straight to get it right and make it work. Some of the smartest people I've ever met have been the ones with the pink lip gloss and the tits hanging out. They know what it takes to win and they know they're walking through...."