It's an Ill Wind

If he would like to come again next time? Yes, he did indeed. Good; they would turn their attention to Jacobson's 'Kalooki Nights.' Did he know it?

He didn't, but he had heard about it, and what he had heard about it had been very positive. They all got up to leave.

"I'll have to run," Carol, one of the women he'd noticed before, said. "Or I'll miss my bus."

"She lives in your direction," Frank said. "Can't you drop her off?"

"Where do you live?"

She explained; it was all but on his way.

"I'll be happy to take you there," Dwayne said. "No need to rush."

They left together and he drove her home. On the way she talked about reading and books, and he rather liked the things she said. He asked her about the circle and she told him they'd started three years ago. It had been Frank's initiative, and there had been twelve of them to start with. Four had given up because they found reading a novel every fortnight was too much pressure, and they'd found one new member; and now he might be another one.

"Do you read a lot?" she asked.

Dwayne told her he had most evenings to himself. He said he had almost forgotten to go to bed when he sat rereading Guterson.

She smiled at him. "It is a gripping story, isn't it?" she said. "I sometimes felt envious of Hatsue, even though she lives through such a lot of misery."

Dwayne scowled. "I know exactly what you mean," he said. "It's a painfully beautiful read at times."

Carol lived just off the main road; he dropped her off at her gate and promised to pick her up for the next session.

At home he first tiptoed to Rosie's room; she was fast asleep, as usual. He went to the kitchen for some cheese and crackers. He took them into the living room and poured himself a stiff drink.

Then he sat down and revolved the evening in his thoughts. It had been really nice, and he was looking forward to going again. It gave him something else to think of, and he liked the atmosphere in the group. He started his laptop and ordered 'Kalooki Nights' on line.

Peggy had been quite right. He had been on his way to becoming a recluse, he thought. The next evening he called an old friend and arranged to meet him that weekend; Geoff was married, and they had a daughter who was a couple of weeks older than Rosie. Before Janet died they had played together now and then, and it seemed a good idea to pick up part of his old life again.

Rosie loved going there. "Yes," she shouted, "oh, dad, can't we do that more often?"

He grinned at her. "One step at the time, please, young lady." But he knew she was right, and he found over the weeks that it did him a lot of good.

The reading club was another stepping-stone back to a normal life. The people were nice indeed, and he enjoyed his talks with Carol, however short. He always picked her up and dropped her off, and they could talk about almost anything.

She'd always gone by bus because of her husband's job. He needed the car and he worked rather late most of the time. At first she'd thought he was secretly seeing a lover but he'd shown her his schedules in his boss's emails, and it was all over and above board. She felt a bit sorry for him, and for herself, too, as he was usually too tired to be of much use. But he was happy in his job and she was happy for him.

Dwayne thought she would be about thirty-five, but when he asked her she told him she was forty-four, almost four years older than he.

"I'd never have guessed by your looks," he said.

She smiled a little, and thanked him.

Spring was warm and humid, and Dwayne did a lot of gardening. He felt somewhat pressed for time now and then, but Rosie happily played on the swing or with the other neighbours' girls. They had two daughters and Rosie was about as old as the elder one, so he didn't have to worry she'd feel left out.

Joe Tillotson came by sometimes. Rather to his surprise Dwayne really liked the fellow, and they shared an interest in various things; Joe had just chanced upon jazz, and Dwayne played a lot of his favourites for him while they sat looking outside and enjoying the spring air through the open French windows. By tacit agreement Janet was not spoken about; they both felt it might impede their friendship and they shied away from the subject.

Dwayne once returned the visit. He rather liked Joe's place, but he found the realisation that it was there Janet had gone when he was away fairly hard to stomach; and he didn't relish realising that it was that stretch of drive where she'd been lethally wounded.

When he was there Joe introduced him to his sister, Meg. Dwayne immediately felt attracted to her; she was funny and somewhat unconventional, and he tentatively asked her out. She gave him a sphinx-like smile and accepted.

They went out an a Friday night. Meg was wildly funny, and she turned out to be quite interested in a lot of things he liked. The evening was over before Dwayne realised, and it really felt like more. To his great regret, however, she turned down his invitation for another date. She said she was sorry but she hadn't got the time, and besides, she would soon be travelling for over a year. She hoped he didn't mind, but alas, she had too many goals to pursue.

He did mind, but he didn't say so. Instead he thanked her for a nice evening and drove home contemplating the fact that life was complicated in the extreme.

Oh well, there was always Rosie, and she at least was a constant factor - the constant factor - in his life. So back to normal again, old boy.

One Wednesday in May, when Dwayne reversed on Carol's drive, she didn't come outside as usual. He waited for a moment, and then killed the engine. He got out and rang the bell. It took quite some time before he heard Carol shuffle down the hall to the front door. She opened and looked at Dwayne with a face that was tearstained and blotched with crying.

"Carol!" Dwayne said. "What's the matter?"

He went in and closed the door, and took Carol's hand.

"What happened? Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head. "It's Bill. He's left me. When I came home from work yesterday there was a note on the table. He's gone to live with James, his boss..." She sucked both lips into her mouth and bit them hard to prevent herself from crying. "I had thought -" A few tears ran down her cheeks, and she brushed them away with her hand. "I had hoped we would grow old together..."

She crumpled up and Dwayne had to grab her and hold her or she would have fallen over. He patted her back and stroked her hair and wondered what on earth he could do to help. His own disappointment came briefly back to his mind, but he drove it out with an effort.

When Carol had calmed down a little, Dwayne said, "Look, shall I call the club and tell them we're not coming? Or do you want me to go?"

Carol looked at him and shook her head. "I'd better come along," she sniffed. "But I don't want to tell them now. Just let me wash my face."

Dwayne didn't think it was a good idea but he nodded and she went upstairs. After a little time she came back, dressed in a fresh blouse and with a scrubbed face, red and clean.

"You do look a lot better," Dwayne said. "But I think they can still see you're none too happy."

"Oh, fuck you," she said. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. But if I don't go everyone will go and think things, and I don't want that to happen."

Dwayne nodded. "I know about that," he said.

They went to Dwayne's car and drove to the pub. Carol talked about everyday things and carefully avoided her troubles, and when they were there she had more or less regained her composure.

Her fellow members did notice something was amiss but they were too polite to ask, and as the evening progressed Carol seemed more and more her old self.

On the way back she immediately started to unburden herself. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "but I think I can trust you and I have to talk about it or I'll burst."

"That's alright," Dwayne said. "I don't talk."

They arrived at Carol's place.

"I'll come with you," he said. "You'd better get all of it off your chest."

They went in and Carol showed him into the living room. "I'll make us some coffee," she said.

Dwayne got out his cell phone to call Peggy and tell her he'd be a little later, but to his annoyance he had no signal. He went across the hall into the kitchen and said, "Can I use you phone for a moment? I have no signal and I want to call Peggy."

"Peggy? I thought your wife was called Rosie?"

"Rosie's six. She's my daughter. My wife was called Janet, and she's been dead for over a year now. Peggy's my neighbour and she keeps an eye on Rosie."

"Oh. Ok. Yes, of course you can."

Dwayne called Peggy and explained. Then Carol came in with the coffee, and she sat down and talked, and talked, and talked.

Dwayne was a good listener. He just let Carol talk, with the occasional question on his side, and it did her a lot of good. When she had finished she asked him what he thought she should do.

He considered the question. "As far as practicalities are concerned, I would try and get rid of his things, and then you might rearrange your house to suit your own taste completely so you won't get confronted with Bill in everything you do. If it's too painful, I can come and sort thing out with you this Saturday. But emotionally? I don't know. I really don't know. It took me a very long time to resign myself to Janet having been unfaithful - she died in her lover's drive. I only found out afterwards."

He looked at Carol and she nodded.

"I never told anyone but my father, my mother-in-law and the neighbours. I don't want Rosie to know, so I've kept things to myself. Perhaps it's best just to tell the people you really care about, and let the others simply know Bill's gone without the details."

He thought about it some more and said, "Perhaps you should have yourself tested for STDs, too. Some homosexuals are rather promiscuous."

"Yes," she said. "I will. Er, I'd appreciate your help, so if you can come and sort things out with me... You can bring Rosie, I've got enough things to keep her busy. My sister's got a girl about her age and she sometimes comes to stay for the weekend."

Dwayne nodded. "We'll be there," he said.

Carol accompanied him to the front door. "Thank you for being there," she said and she kissed him on the cheek.

Dwayne drove home deep in thought. People did make a mess of things. He expected Bill had married Carol in the same expectation of growing old together, before he found out his inclinations lay entirely different. He couldn't even blame him, but it was damned hard on Carol. He really liked Carol. He thought of her face, of how she'd looked when he'd rung her bell, and how she looked when she was at ease - she was one of the nicest women he knew.

She had dark blonde hair with a natural wave, and green eyes, and a kind, lovely face. He shook his head. It was damned hard on her, it really was.

He realised she was the first woman he'd held in his arms for well over a year. It had felt good, notwithstanding the unpleasant circumstances. Madge briefly came to his mind, but all the shine she'd held initially was truly lost. He couldn't really envisage her face too well any more. Carol's, now...

When he came home Peggy came out of her house and asked him over for a drink.

"You will have to tell us what's going on," she said.

"I'll just look in on Rosie and then I'll come over," he said.

Rosie was asleep, as usual, and he went over to Dick and Peggy. He was always happy to go there for a drink and a talk, and when they had poured him a G&T he told them briefly what had happened. Dick and Peggy never talked about others; they were simply involved with his welfare.

Peggy listened carefully to what he had to say and how he phrased things; when Dwayne had finished his drink and left she said to Dick, "He obviously likes this Carol woman, don't you think?"

Dick looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Is this your female intuition or do you just hope he'll run into someone nice?"

"Oh, I don't know if it'll ever come to anything; he may not even realise he likes her. But he does, for all that."

That Saturday Dwayne was up early. He breakfasted with Rosie and they drove to Carol's place. He parked his car in the drive and they got out. He looked at the house and the garden. He hadn't really given himself much time to do so before; but there was no hurry now. She lived in a well-kept cottage; it must be about two hundred years old, he thought. It was what they called desirable property. It seemed just the right size and it sat in a garden that was beautifully laid out. Yes, he thought, I can imagine she'd hoped to get old with Bill in here. He sighed.

Then he took Rosie's hand in his and they went up to the front door.

Carol looked a lot better than she had that Wednesday. She smiled at Dwayne and shook hands with Rosie. "Hello," she said. "I'm Carol. Come in."

Rosie looked at Carol. "I'm Rosie," she said. Then she walked with her to the living room.

Carol had a pot of coffee ready, and a jar of lemonade for Rosie; on the rug there was a big box with dolls and clothes, and Rosie gave Carol a questioning look.

"You can play with them if you like," Carol said.

Rosie nodded. "Yes, please," she said. She sat down on the rug and went through the contents of the box first. Then she took one of the dolls, undressed it and selected a new outfit. Carol and Dwayne looked at each other and grinned.

Rosie happily played on the rug. She looked at Carol now and again, and Carol nodded at her when their eyes met, to be rewarded with a timid smile.

"Alright then," Dwayne said. "What can I do for you?"

They went upstairs. Rosie stayed in the living room; she came upstairs now and then to show them a particularly beautiful outfit on one of the dolls, and to tell them why she'd dressed the doll that way. Carol loved it. She discussed Rosie's work with her and asked a few questions or gave some advice once or twice.

They took all of Bill's clothes from the wardrobe and put them into bags; at the back of one of the shelves they found a set of homoerotic DVDs. Then they went to the bathroom and removed his toiletries.

"My," Dwayne said, "he really has a big collection of creams and gels - didn't that strike you as odd?"

"I never gave it a thought. Maybe, in retrospect..."

"That's the way it always goes, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "It is."

They got Bill's tools from the shed, and then Carol went through the CD collection to get out all the music Bill had bought that she didn't like.

"Some of these are boring," she said, "and there are a good many I really can't stand. Please be a dear and put them in that box."

Dwayne did. There was a lot of house music and disco, the sort of music he'd turn off on the few occasions he listened to the radio, and there was some death metal, much too aggressive to his taste.

"I'll keep the rest," she said. "We either bought them together or they were mine anyway."

After they had gone through the books in a similar fashion Carol said, "So much for now. What do I do with it?"

"You'd better call Bill and tell him he can come and collect his stuff," Dwayne said. "He may have to make the trip twice; but still."

Carol did, and half an hour later Bill arrived together with his boyfriend in a small van. They carried the bags of clothes to the car, and then the discs, books and tools.

"Do you mind if I take the clock and the armchair?" Bill said. "They were my grandfather's."

"No," Carol said, "please do."

The two men carried the clock and the chair into the van, too.

Then they went into the living room together.

Bill looked at Carol, and Dwayne saw he felt very uncomfortable.

"Carol," he said, "I do apologise - er, I can't help it. I really was not happy with myself any more, and I did try to get over it, but it was too hard. Are you very, very angry?"

"No," she said. "I'm not angry - but you might have told me before."

Bill nodded. "Yes," he said. "But I didn't dare."

Then he shook hands with her and wished her luck. She made a face and looked at him grimly, but she did thank him, and went with him to the door.

"Here are my keys," he said. "I'll keep the car; I do need it. You can keep the house."

He handed her an envelope. "These are the deeds; I arranged it at the lawyer's some weeks ago."

He turned around and hurried to the car with tears in his eyes.

James shook hands with Carol, too. Then they left.

"Good heavens," Dwayne said. "He seems to be as shaken as you are."

Carol nodded. "We both lose out on this, I suppose. Oh well. My, look at the time. I'm famished."

She went into the kitchen to prepare tea. Rosie, who had seen and heard the conversation, came along. "I can help," she said.

They had tea together in the garden, and after they'd washed up the Rushings went back home.

Rosie sat in the rear seat, looking at the trees whizzing past. "Dad," she said, "Carol is nice. Can we go there again?"

Dwayne briefly looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. "I don't know," he said. "You did enjoy yourself, didn't you?"

Rosie nodded. "She is not like Madge," she said.

"Goodness no. Fortunately not."

"Madge doesn't like little girls, does she?"

"No, I don't think so. She's too involved in herself."

Rosie was silent again. They were almost home when she said, "Do you like Carol?"

"Yes, she's nice."

"But do you really like her?"

Dwayne considered the question. "I think so," he said. "Why?"

"Just because," his daughter said.

Dwayne left it at that.

Eleven days later Carol looked a good deal better again. As she got into the car she said, "I think I'd better tell everybody; I think I'm up to it now. And I will just tell the truth; it's not my fault anyway."

"Good for you," Dwayne said with a smile. "Clearing the air."

Carol nodded. "Oh, and my tests were all negative, thank God. I'm so glad you were there to help me. It really made the difference."

"I enjoyed it, actually. You did make a hit with Rosie. She's been a little quiet since Janet died, but she learnt to judge people somehow. There was a woman I dated a couple of times; Rosie saw exactly what was wrong."

"What was wrong?"

"Oh, she was too young for one thing, and she was much too busy with her cell phone. But what really clinched it was that she didn't like children at all. She just couldn't accept Rosie being there."

They drove onto the car park, and went in. Carol told the others about her situation, and she was listened to respectfully. Dwayne looked her with admiration; he knew how much it upset her, and wow, she brought it off fantastically. The other members nodded, and one of them voiced everyone's feelings when he told her they felt for her. Then they started on their next book, Richard Wright's 'Uncle Tom's Children.'

By the middle of July they had their final meeting before the summer holidays. It was decided they'd start again on the first Wednesday in September, and as there was a long break in between they'd read 'The Pillars of the Earth.'

Dwayne thanked the circle for having admitted him into their midst. His fellow members smiled at him; the enthusiasm was mutual.

When he drove Carol home she invited him for dinner at their local pub that weekend, with Rosie - "Yes, they will have children -" as a thank-you gesture for all the times he'd taken her along.

"I'll be very happy to come," Dwayne said, "and I'm sure Rosie will be very glad, too. But it was no trouble at all, and I always look forward to our talks on the way."

She smiled at him warmly; she had come to prize those short drives as a short relief of the week's loneliness. "So do I," she said. "One reason the more."