Omnia Vincit Amor Pt. 03

As January days progressed Claire became more and more morose, and more taciturn. John knew he could do nothing for her, it was her problem alone. He simply looked after her, and she often smiled her thanks.

On the afternoon of Friday the 14th of January, the Friday before Thursday the 20th when she could apply for the Decree Absolute, the phone rang, and Claire, being nearest, answered it. John was in the kitchen, and heard what transpired. He heard her gasp of surprise and was ready to join her to giver her support. He couldn't help listening in case she needed him.

"Peter?"

"...It's too late, Peter. Why--"

"...I don't know. I can't see it'll do any good."

"...You have? How long?"

"...I'll ask John. Ring me in an hour."

John came from the kitchen to where Claire sat in the living room.

"I heard," he said, wiping his hands on a towel. "What do you need to ask me?"

"It's Peter," she said, realising immediately that John knew that. She smiled and so did he: they were so attuned to each other. "He wants to come over and talk. Apparently his therapist thinks it will help him."

"He's actually gone to a therapist?"

"It seems so, since before Christmas."

"And you think...?"

"I can't see what good it can do. I think he wants to stop the divorce at all costs, to come and beg me to go back. I can't and won't go back to that life. You know that this is the first time in our married life that I have really relaxed? Felt fully alive? I feel free. I never realised how constantly on edge I was in case Peter suspected me of something. Always worried he would be angry and accusatory. No, John, I can't go back to that."

"But what if he's really changed? He's taken the step of seeing someone. That, and if he's truly depressed at you leaving him, it shows he loves you, Claire."

"I think he'll protest he's changed but once I was back he'd be back to his old ways."

"If he did that, you can always come back here, you know. He can't imprison you."

"He could make sure I can't get at any money."

"If that happened, I'd send you the ticket via one of the children. Elizabeth or Philip."

"Do you want to get rid of me John? Have I outstayed my welcome?"

"You know that's ridiculous. You know I love having you here; you are so easy to live with, but you are still married to him while you're waiting for the Decree Absolute. At least you can listen to him."

"John, I don't think I can sleep with him if he comes to stay."

"There's the spare room. That'll be up to you. I'll make the bed up, in case."

Precisely an hour later, the phone once again rang.

"John thinks I should talk to you."

"...Whenever."

"...OK."

She went to John.

"He's coming tomorrow; it's the weekend. He's at work today."

John felt a little apprehensive, with a growing suspicion that Claire would go back, especially now Peter had done what she asked and seen a therapist. John had become accustomed to her around the house and felt a sense of foreboding at losing her. It would bring back with renewed intensity his lonely state after the loss of Elizabeth.

When the doorbell rang at eight thirty on Saturday morning, John smiled, wondering if Peter hoped to find them undressed. He went to answer it while Claire cleared away the breakfast things. He opened the door, standing clear of it, and found his own reaction amusing. The amusement died when had saw the man. He remembered Peter from the magistrates' court. Now his face was grey and his eyes were tired and lifeless, and he was thinner than John remembered.

"Peter! Come in," he said putting on his best welcoming smile. "I think the best place for you to talk with Claire would be the front room. The door is pretty soundproof."

"That's thoughtful of you, John, but I don't think you'd eavesdrop even if the door were open."

It surprised John, this more gentle response. Peter seemed to have lost his tension, but he did not look well. John showed him into the front room and offered coffee or tea, Peter opting for coffee.

"He's in the front room, and he doesn't look at all well," John told Claire as she finished the washing up. "I'll make coffee, so don't get down to serious talk until I've served it and got out of the way."

"You don't need to disappear, John. This is your house."

"Peter will want privacy. He'll talk more freely if you're alone with him."

"How can you be so kind? He hurt you, then you rescued him from going to prison and he insulted you."

"Sermon on the Mount, Claire. Sermon on the Mount. For me it's the only way to be. I'm happy trying to follow it. Go and talk to him, or let him talk to you, whichever. I'll bring you the coffee."

When he brought the coffee and biscuits in, they were silent, and he thought they were probably waiting for him to leave them alone. He had expected that. He left them, shutting the door, and went to collect his own coffee, taking his chair in the living room to look over his emails and write some responses.

---

"Well, Peter, what do you want?" Claire snapped, feeling annoyed that he'd come at all. The divorce had nearly run its six weeks, and now he had come at the eleventh hour to confuse things. She saw him flinch at her cold abruptness and after a brief sense of satisfaction she felt guilty.

"Not very kind or welcoming, Claire." His voice still had that superior reproving tone as if talking to a child.

"I don't feel 'welcoming'. I wrote to you and got no reply. I invited you for Christmas and you made no answer. So I simply want to know what you suddenly want now. Then you can go."

"So you've moved on. You're with John now are you? Living in sin?"

His tone this time surprised her: it wasn't censorious, judgemental or resentful, but resigned and weary. For the first time she saw how gaunt he was, and she felt doubly guilty at that.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but you provoke me," she said. "And no, I haven't 'moved on' as you put it. I am living here but I'm not, as you imply, 'with' him. I see you're still sitting in judgement over me. It won't wash with me any more: what you think of me doesn't bother me at all. I'm free of you and just waiting for time to pass so I can get the documentation. I'm no longer your property Peter."

"No, it's me that's sorry," he said dully. "I admit that I spent most of our married life trying to hold on to you, frantically afraid some other man would take you from me. Now someone has--"

"Wrong!" she cut in. "Get it into your head that it is possible for people to live in the same house as friends."

"But I think you were lovers before," Peter replied, though without any triumphalism.

"It was over thirty years ago!" shouted Claire in exasperation. "I was 'with him' under two years. We were young students. I've been with you for thirty!"

"I don't think you ever got over him."

"There you go again! I don't really see the point of trying to argue with you, you won't believe anything that doesn't agree with your preconceived ideas, but nevertheless I'll try.

"When John and I parted I put him behind me, and soon he never came to mind. For thirty years, Peter, I forgot him. I never made any contact with him. Then Father Gerard said, 'You remember John Pollard?'

"It came as a surprise, his name after so long. Peter, it aroused nothing in me but curiosity. 'Yes, what about him?' I asked Gerry.

" 'He lost his wife a few months ago,' he told me, going on to say 'I never met a couple so deeply in love as they were. Her death was so sudden. He's finding life very hard without her.'

"My reaction was to go and see him, to offer my condolences. That is what I did and that is all I did. We talked about Elizabeth. That's all. Talk. Reminisce. He showed me the letter she'd written to him in the event of her death. It was partly embarrassing how explicit she was, but what came over was their passion for each other, their all consuming love.

"There was playfulness in their lives, Peter. Free and varied sex: freedom. It was obvious there were no inquisitions if either of them were late getting home. He talked about her sudden death while out shopping and how long it took before the police came to tell him.

"After the way you reacted every time I came home even a little late, I couldn't help asking him if he wasn't agitated when she was so late coming home, and he looked puzzled!

" 'Why should I be?' he asked me. 'She often got talking to someone, perhaps going for a coffee.'

"I couldn't hide my surprise and he then told me of an occasion that she stayed overnight with a male friend of theirs when the weather turned nasty. I asked John if he worried that something was going on. He again actually looked amazed! It wasn't part of his universe to distrust her.

"Then he mentioned his letter to me, and your reply and his surprise at its violence. Oh, Peter, when I got over my surprise, I was so angry with you and rightly so.

"Then, after driving to Ellen's in that angry mood and with this picture of his trust in his wife and your contrasting distrust of me, there was your phone call at Ellen's, demanding to know where I'd been, then your attack when I got to Mum's house. The contrast was extreme!

"The reason I went back to John was precisely his character and that fact that I knew I could trust him; I was safe with him. In any case he was deeply bereaved, as I was. If you remember Mum had only just died.

"So, Peter, no, there is nothing between us but loving friendship, and gratitude on my part that he's putting up with me for so long. He says my presence has helped with the loneliness."

She saw his knowing grim smile and sighed. "See? You don't believe me, and you don't trust me. You put the worst possible interpretation on alleviating loneliness. That's precisely why I'm divorcing you. I think you'd better leave, I have nothing left for you, Peter."

She saw the look of fear, despair and grief cross his face.

"Claire I'm sorry. Please give me a chance, I can change, I know I can."

"I would have thought if you could change, you would have done so already. There's not been much evidence of that since you arrived this morning, has there?"

"All right, I admit it. I've got to work on my jealousy some more, but please, put off the divorce. Give me a chance. I need you Claire. Life is not worth anything without you."

His grovelling plea took her by surprise. Now in a vulnerable position he seemed a different person. Could he really change, she wondered. She saw the Decree Absolute as he did, a final end to their relationship. He would have realised that after it there would be no going back. She felt the dawning of some hope for them, and with it came an idea. He was staring at her, desperation in his eyes. She spoke.

"In a week I can apply for the Decree Absolute."

He groaned, his shoulders slumping.

"But I don't need to apply for it for up to twelve months," and she smiled at him.

"You mean?"

"No, not that long."

"But you'll give me a chance? You'll come home?"

"Not immediately, but I'm looking for a completely different approach from you. Then, I'll come and stay with you on a trial basis."

He slumped again. "How long?" he asked tremulously, a tone she did not ever remember him ever using before. He had always been so confident and decisive.

"Well, after three months you can apply for the decree, though you'd have to go to court to get it. So I'd say three months trial to begin with. Perhaps I'll come back here to stay for a few days from time to time to see if things have changed, if you can cope with that."

Peter smiled with relief. "Thank you," he said. "You will find me changed I can assure you. How soon?"

"So you're getting therapy now?"

"Yes, she's very helpful. She's showing me what this jealousy problem is. We're working on how to change things."

"I'll give you a month to have some more sessions with her, then I'll come home for a visit. I'm not sure how long for, but I'll think about it, and depending on how things are with you, I could look to come home for good, it depends."

"If that's all you can manage I suppose I'll have to put up with it."

"Peter, the managing is not my job: you have to manage the change. It's not a done deal. I've got to see that things have changed, but believe me I do want to feel able to come back to you."

"I see that. You will find me changed."

"I do hope so, my love. So if that's all?" She stood. The interview was over, but hoped she'd given him some hope.

He stood in response and they faced each other. She saw his wretched look and his tiredness and depression and pulled him to her, kissing him on his lips. At first he was surprised, than kissed her back, and she sensed there was a definite dawning hope in him. It felt good to provoke that in him, and to her surprise a feeling of relief and optimism in her.

"I will come," she said gently to him, and was rewarded with the first open smile from him. She felt her love for him surge. It was real; it was there.

---

John heard the front door close, and Claire came into the living room, where he sat.

"Well, how did it go?" John asked her.

"He keeps saying how much he's changed, but I didn't see much evidence of it at first." She sighed deeply. "But he seems defeated somehow; he's lost his spirit. He's very unhappy and I feel terrible that I'm causing his suffering. I'm sure he's working on his problem, and I wanted to give him hope."

John had almost contradicted her, to stress Peter's part her suffering, but realised that in a sense Claire was right: she had left him after all. So instead he said something else.

"You've decided to give him a chance. When are you going back?" John found he was dreading her reply.

"He is getting therapy, which does surprise me, and that gives me some hope. I'd have thought he'd have been content with confessing to a priest. Anyway, I want him to get some more therapy, he really needs it: he still doesn't see how deep his distrust of me is.

"So I said I'd visit him after a month and see how he is. I have a plan to push things. If he copes I'll stay longer, perhaps for good, otherwise, if it's all right with you I'll come back. Then I'll sort out what to do. I've got a year before I have to apply for the Absolute."

John felt the urge to beg her to stay, but knew he couldn't do that. It was deeply ingrained in him that she was married to Peter and should try her best to repair the fracture to the marriage. It didn't stop the feeling of being emotionally torn apart.

"That sounds very fair," he said instead. "So I've got you for a month more at least." He tried to hide it, but she could see the disappointment in his face.

Claire immediately saw how much she meant to him, and loved him all the more for his selflessness. He could have begged that she abandon Peter and come to him, but she knew he would not be able to live with himself if he didn't support her decision. She suspected he hoped her return to Peter would result in failure, but in that she was not correct.

John was fatalistic about things: what would be would be. He told himself that he had to get used to being alone again, that having Claire there had been a gift and a bonus, and had helped him in his solitary state. He would have to get used to living in the real world.

She phoned Simon and told him she would not be applying immediately for the Decree Absolute.

"I've had a last minute visit from Peter, and he's getting therapy," she said. "So I'll delay until I'm certain there's no hope."

"Fine," Simon said. "You're the boss, and I think you're right. After the Decree there's no going back. You can't undo it. You'll feel better that you've given the relationship every chance,"

That evening, there was another phone call. This time John answered it.

"John? Is it true? No divorce? She's going back to him?" It was Ellen: Simon must have returned home after work, John thought.

"Hi, Ellen!" said John. "Yes, she is putting off getting the final Decree. Peter is getting therapy it seems. She's giving him a chance."

"Going back to him?"

"Ellen," he said gently. "I'll put Claire on."

He gave the phone to Claire, who, having heard Ellen's name, was now standing by John.

"Hi Ellen," she said as cheerfully as she could, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

"Claire, what's going on?"

"Peter came over and we talked. He's getting counselling or therapy or something, and he asked me to delay the divorce and give him a chance to show he's changed."

"Give him a chance? After all he's done? So you're going back to all that stress and tension?"

"After a month I'm going back on a trial basis. If he's really changed, I'll stay, though I'll be coming to England regularly. If he's no better, I'm coming back and divorcing him."

"God, Claire, you're a bloody saint! How's John taking it?"

"How d'you think? You met him at New Year. I can tell he's not delighted I'm going back, but he'll support me because I'm married to Peter."

"Claire, level with me. Have you slept with John?"

"On three occasions I went to him and stayed in his bed with him. I was very down and upset. He held me, gave me a cuddle, but no more than that."

"I can't believe you two! You could make an opera out of this drama! Darling Sister, you and John should be together, you really do deserve each other and you make an ideal couple. I don't know how you both can live like that."

"Resisting the urge to make love to him is hard, Ellen, very hard. I really desire him a lot." She cast a grin at John, "but I'm far happier as we are than ever I used to be with Peter!"

"Yeah, well, from what you said, sex with Peter was not something you lived for!"

"There are more important things, Ellen."

"Not many!" Ellen said, laughing.

That ended the conversation and Claire could almost hear Ellen shaking her head as she hung up with assurances of her love, no matter what stupidity Claire proposed, as she put it.

She turned to John and smiled bleakly.

"I think you can guess what Ellen was saying," she said.

John nodded. "You should divorce and have a rollicking sex life with me!"

They both laughed. "Roughly correct!" she said as the laughter died.

"If things were different..." John let the sentence hang.

"Yes, dearest John, if things were different."

She took s step forward and hugged him to her. Then she sought his mouth and kissed him. It was not really a short platonic kiss. Then she looked guilty.

John smiled. "I really enjoyed that, but as I can see from your face, things are not different, are they?"

She shook her head, and looked wistful.

"You have to do what is right," he said. "You'll feel better that way."

She nodded again.

The month passed quickly.

---

Two days before Valentine's Day when the month would be up, John answered the phone. A woman's voice with a Dutch accent.

"May I speak with Mevrouw Klinsman, please?"

John called Claire to the phone.

"Hello?" She looked puzzled for a moment then John could see she understood who was calling. The conversation then continued in Dutch. John was surprised at first then realised Claire had been living in the Netherlands for many years.

She put the phone down and turned to John.

"That was his psychiatrist," she said with surprise. "He actually went to a real psychiatrist! She reckons he'll need a good few more sessions, but thinks it's worth me going back and living with him, as long as I realise his insecurity is very deep. I should know that he will lapse from time to time, and I need to realise and accept that. She said it's a little like a phobia.

"I said that as long as he was getting help and could appreciate when he failed, I could cope with that, and she said she thought that would work. She wanted to do some behavioural therapy exposing him to situations when he has to trust me. I think she called it graduated exposure. Putting him in situations when he had to trust me.