The Duel

"Good morning. Wastwater Hotel. How can I help you?"

Suzie thought quickly. This kind of puzzle she could deal with. She gave her name. "Do you have a booking made by my husband? He forgot to tell me. Stanley Marshall."

"Yes madam. For tonight, but it was for one person, a single room."

"That's fine." Suzie replaced the phone and began to think. Okay, Stan might be under the weather, but there was little wrong with him if he had rushed off to the Lake District to climb mountains. Stan went walking and climbing when life got too much for him, not when he was ill. He must have lied to his work. In which case, why? There could only be one reason to make him do such a thing on impulse and without telling her. Now she was crying – bitter tears of self-pity and denial. And tears for the damage she had caused. Stan knew.

She rang work and told them she needed time off to deal with a family emergency. She didn't consider the meetings she would have to rearrange or the deadlines that would pass unfulfilled. Once more she changed her clothes. She wasn't a walker, but she had sensible shoes, a fleece and waterproofs. She made coffee, studied the map and the hotel web site, programmed her sat-nav and checked her cash. Looking at her mobile phone, she saw two texts from Clifford and left them unread. Still nothing from Stan. Finishing her coffee, she went out to the car.

Six: Wast Water

There was a dull pain in Stan's hip, which was better than the shooting, gouging agony he felt driving up the motorway. He needed to sit down and gave Bella money to buy drinks while he and Simone pushed through the crowded and noisy hotel bar and squeezed onto the end of a bench near the coal fire. The warmth in the bar acted like a drug and he relaxed. Boots, walking sticks, packs and climbing gear were stacked in corners and against walls. Everywhere there were broad backs, pints of beer gripped firmly, red cheeks and people laughing as they recounted the day's exploits on the mountains. Bella chatted and Stan did his best to smile, but he felt ill and exhausted. Only when Simone returned and he sipped his beer did he feel better. It was agreed that in a while the two girls would borrow the bath in his room to clean up before driving back to uni. They settled back and examined the food menu, enjoying the warmth and escape from the sun and the wind.

When they had recovered a little, they ordered food. Stan had a steak pie and chips. It was the right idea, but he was unable to eat much. The girls did much better and finished his chips. He wanted another drink and looked over to the bar to see which of the beers to try next. Clear as anything, through the scrum of mountaineers, he saw Suzie. It was the oddest thing. She looked out of place and he thought how can she be here? In that instant before she saw him, her fear and uncertainty was unmasked and he knew she would make him miserable again. On impulse he reached out and took the hands of his two companions.

"Before you rush off, I want to thank you for being with me today. I hope we all remember today as special." He leaned forward and kissed each girl on the cheek.

'Stan!" Suzie was beside him, fear replaced by indignation.

He rose to his feet with difficulty and kissed his wife. "How did you find me Suzie? You're just in time for a drink. Let me introduce Bella and Simone. They're my friends and are looking after me, so don't worry."

All three women looked bewildered.

"Maybe this is a good time for you girls to get your bath. Come back and say goodbye before you go."

Simone nodded and smiled uncertainly. "Thank you Stan. Do take care. You're a great guy. We'll say goodbye when we bring the room key back."

"Keep fighting Stan," said Bella, tapping his shoulder. "Keep climbing those mountains. I'll remember the summit of Scafell Pikes for the rest of my life, especially you climbing onto the cairn and shaking your fist at the sky and shouting "Fuck you God!" She bent and kissed him on the bald spot on his scalp, tears on her cheek.

Alone together, Stan and Suzie looked at one another.

"Stan, what's the matter with you, and who were those girls? I read your note but what does it mean?"

"They're friends of mine, psychology students at Lancaster University. We made friends on the Lord's Rake. Lovely girls. Their enthusiasm carried me over the top of Scafell Pikes. How about you? I think you've had a wasted journey. I texted that I had to talk to you but it doesn't matter now. There was no need to come after me. A phone call yesterday would have been enough. So why are you here?"

"I'm worried. What's happened? What did you want to say to me?"

"Relax. My two beautiful helpers made sure I was okay. All I needed was a little human sympathy and support and they're stars. I went to the hospital – was it yesterday? I've had some pain in my belly and they did some tests. I've got cancer in my bladder."

Suzie gripped the edge of the table. She had still to sit down. "I knew it. Why didn't you say something? You should have told me."

"I did my best to tell you, but you wouldn't answer your phone or call me when I asked. Remember, you were visiting your aunt in Tunbridge Wells. Which aunt is that? I forget. Your mother was an only child, I remember. Then I waited to tell you when you got home; but you didn't come home last night. And there's no phone signal here."

Suzie shook her head wearily. "But what did the doctors say? Surely they can get the cancer. And what are you doing here?"

"I'm having an operation on Friday so I thought I'd do some walking while I could. The thing is, the cancer's metastasized. It can only get worse so I'm doing this while I can. But tell me what happened to you. How is your aunt?"

Suzie ignored the question and closed her eyes. This was worse than a nightmare. How could everything go so badly wrong so quickly?

"Stan, I'm so sorry. I should have answered my phone. I wasn't there when you needed me. I feel dreadful."

Stan looked at her curiously. This was quite unlike his wife. She rarely admitted mistakes and on principle she never admitted weakness. "It doesn't matter. This is about me, not about making sure you don't feel guilty. Anyway, we all die alone. Now tell me what happened to you."

He was looking directly into her face and she dropped her gaze. Ashamed, she forced herself to look at him.

"Please Stan, this is not the time. I want to take care of you. Let me take you home and then we'll talk. I'm so worried about you."

"Take it from me. If you've got three days only, you know what's important. And I want to know what happened to you. Is your aunt better? I hope you were able to help her."

The tears spilled down her cheeks and fell on her hand. "I came to find you Stan as soon as I could. But I had to go to London." She spoke slowly, unsure what she would say next. She was ashamed of her lies. "I wasn't visiting an aunt. You knew that and it was stupid of me to lie. But this is the worst possible time to make you listen to my story."

"I don't have any other time. I can bear it."

They were silent. Stan nudged the back of a burly mountaineer standing with a youthful group behind them and asked if he would mind getting them drinks.

"My leg's done in," he explained, handing over a twenty pound note. "Get drinks for yourselves."

"What's wrong with your leg?" demanded Suzie.

"Done too much walking and the hip's shot through."

She watched him closely and it was clear that he was in pain. His face was lined and grey, his eyes sunken and dull. The nightmare feeling wouldn't go away. If there was a god who served out retribution, he was certainly exacting a high price for her sins. Leaning over the table, she kissed him.

"Listen to my confession Stan. Don't think badly of me, at least until I've told it all. I love you. I'm so sorry for what's happened and I'll never forgive myself for not being with you when you needed me. I'll not leave your side."

"...until I'm dead. What is it Suzie?"

Stan felt cold. He really didn't want this, but it was better to know than not to know. Suzie began her story hesitantly and he found himself prompting her. When she wouldn't give her lover's name he told her to shut up; he wasn't interesting in listening to lies and half-truths. Again she began to cry, but he didn't comfort her and after a bit she continued.

"He's called Clifford and I met him on a legal course and we've exchanged emails now and then about work but we've not met again until yesterday. It's not an affair."

In the circumstances, she decided that the whole truth was more than Stan needed.

"How many emails is that? Ten; a hundred; a thousand?"

"More like a thousand. We were never going to meet. It wasn't like that. But then something went wrong for him and he needed to speak to me."

"Another problem with work? One to add to the thousand?"

She shook her head. "His wife walked out on him."

"You said yours was a professional relationship. He came to you with his marital problems? And you reciprocated? And his problems required you to spend the night?"

"Only because it was late. There was a lot to talk about and I didn't want to rush for a late train. He was in a dreadful state. He'd no idea he had a problem with his marriage. We're not lovers. I don't love him."

Lies, lies, lies.

"He'd not realised that his secret affair with a married woman might piss off his wife?"

"No Stan. She didn't leave because of us – she didn't know about us. And it's not an affair. It's not fair to say it is."

"You comforted one another – agreed with him that his wife couldn't have known about the two of your because you're both so smart. You said what a bitch his wife was for giving up on him and you consoled him by saying that he still had you. And you needed the night to show Cliff how much solace you had in you."

"Stan! Don't be bitter. I spent the night on my own. And our correspondence had nothing to do with Clifford's marriage. It's wicked to say that."

He stared at her and she knew he could tell she was lying. They knew one another too well.

"How do I know that Suzie? Because you tell me so? If you spent the night with you're lover you'd lie about it. There'd be some hard-headed rationale to justify that to yourself. Not hurt the old man unnecessarily, or something like that. But I know you. You're a cheater as long as you think you can get away with it."

She shook her head wearily.

"Like this professional relationship was nothing to be ashamed about – nothing happened that needed to be kept secret from a trusting spouse. So why was it secret? Was it really just professional respect between you or was there more? When you kissed him goodnight was it cheeks or lips? And confiding his grubby secrets to you instead of his wife, having you feed him with easy reassurance that he wasn't the reason for the failure of his marriage – you really don't think that was part of what was wrong? And it wasn't love, but you chose to be with him rather than your husband who you claim to love. It's a slippery word, love."

She couldn't reply and there was silence.

"Did you talk about our marriage when Cliff wasn't talking about his – the things about me that make you angry; all the little wounds you have suffered over the years; the hopes that have been disappointed? How women have such a hard time?"

Still she couldn't answer.

"You're in love with him but you want to find a more genteel, self-serving word that adultery."

It seemed like a long time before she spoke.

"I don't know. Yes I love Clifford. It's wrong to deny it. But it doesn't take anything from my love for you. It never will."

"I understand. It doesn't alter a thing, that when I needed you you weren't there because you were giving your comfort to your lover. I guess you never thought marriage conferred obligations as well as benefits."

"No Stan. If I'd known you needed me I'd have dropped everything to come to you. You know that."

"Now you're making conditions: you'd have come if you'd known you would be needed. Sorry, that's not the deal. Marriage is an unconditional bond of mutual support. Anyway, I did my best to tell you, but you were too preoccupied with your lover to make yourself available and answer your phone."

"Come with me now. I'll show you I mean it. There's no way I'll let you down again. We'll see this through together."

Stan shook his head. The mountain climbing rugby player with the easy grin had finally brought their drinks and spilled some coins onto the table.

"Enjoy," he said, smiling at Suzie. "And get out on those fells tomorrow."

Stan sipped his beer and thought. "It's good you have a lover. I enjoyed myself today, although it was hard work at times. I'm not the man I was but I don't need your charity. There's a health service to look after me. I'll have to come home to get things for hospital, but I won't disturb your new life."

"Come back with me," said Suzie. "We can pick up your car later."

He shook his head. "I'll stay here as long as I can. As long as the weather's fine. You get back to Clifford. You need to think ahead."

"I'll stay with you. We'll manage somehow in your room."

Again he shook his head. "I don't want you here. I don't want to feel angry, I want peace. Why would I want you round to remind me of everything that's gone wrong with my life? You're as much a symptom of a disease as the pain of my cancer. I don't want your pity, or your spare time from your lover."

They were interrupted by the return of Bella and Simone. Ashen-faced and desperate, Stan persuaded them to have another drink before leaving, and when they were seated, he asked them to stay another day.

"It's only one day and it would mean a lot to me. You can have my room. I'll sleep in your tent. Don't make me beg, but you know how it is with me. I need you here and in return we can have a good time. I've got money and you have youth and vigour. What better combination?"

Suzie clutched his hand. "I'm here darling. I came because I love you Stan. I'd have followed you to the end of the earth."

"Sent on your way by the kisses and caresses of your lover. No wonder you have so much to give."

The two students exchanged looks, trying to work out what was going on and uncomfortable at being in the middle of an awkward situation.

"We have tutorials tomorrow," said Bella. "We'll get the drinks." She and Simone went to the bar, no doubt to talk, leaving Stan and Suzie alone together.

Suzie gripped his hand. "Stan, I've let you down. I'll never forgive myself and I'm not going to make things worse by lying to you. Now let me do the best I can to make things better. I want to look after you and you need me."

Stan climbed to his feet with difficulty. "Nice offer, but I don't want to waste time negotiating the free slots in your schedule with your lover. I'm dead meat. Women are the rational ones in the mating game and Cliff's a much better bet. Stick with him. For now I'm going to do what I want. I don't know why you tracked me down but go home. I don't want you here."

He walked over to the bar. The crowd had thinned out as people went off for an early night. The girls had bought their drinks but were evidently unwilling to interrupt Stan and Suzie's discussion. He put his arm round both.

"Don't mind me. You must go if you've got things to do at uni tomorrow. I'll manage fine by myself."

"Isn't your wife staying?" asked Bella.

He shook his head. "It's a hard life managing a sick husband as well as a lover. She needs to get back."

"We've decided to stay. We can spare the time and enjoyed today's walk so much we'd like to do more tomorrow. But we'll not take your bed. We'll sleep on our mats on the floor of your room. If we all get up early we'll walk with you in the morning and drive back to uni straight after. That's early enough for us."

It was Stan's turn to feel the tears on his cheeks. How was it that strangers could be so kind? They'd even made an effort to protect his pride by suggesting they were staying for themselves, not for him.

"Let's climb Pillar and Steeple. I've climbed them in cloud and I'd like to see them in their glory. But only if this what you want. I'm a vampire, sucking the life out of you young women. I can only do it with your help."

They assured him it was a great plan and they went to bed. Suzie had left without Stan noticing.

Seven: Carry on regardless

Suzie took no interest in her surroundings as she drove home. On the narrow roads out of the Lake District she was tense with tiredness and humiliation. Stan had more or less told her to go away. And why had Stan put on that act with those girls? It was clearly intended to humiliate her. The roads were empty and by the time she reached the motorway she'd come to accept that there was some justification for Stan's attitude. She hadn't meant to hurt him, but she had. To put things right she needed time to show she still cared for him and that she would do everything in her power to help him through his illness. It was just bad luck that she'd not answered her phone when he got his diagnosis. But then, if he'd let her come with him to the hospital there wouldn't have been a problem.

Stan would realise this when he'd had time to calm down. She was proud of herself for telling him the truth about Clifford. Whatever happened next, Stan could not accuse her of dishonesty. She'd be ready for him when he came home, confident she could put things right. It was after all so much in his interests to let her take care of him, visit him while he was in hospital and nurse him when he came home. He'd see sense. She'd speak to her employers and was sure they'd give her compassionate leave so that she could devote herself to his care. Tomorrow she'd let Clifford know what had happened. He'd help her put it all in a true perspective and he'd understand that her husband had to take priority for now.

She reached home at three in the morning and fell exhausted and unwashed into bed convinced she'd done the right thing. She slept soundly.

Eight: The duel

Stan was back in hospital seated alone on a plastic chair in the reception area of the oncology ward. Tests done at his doctor's surgery had gone astray and he could not be admitted for surgery until they were found. For an hour he waited to be seen and thought he'd been forgotten. Then a clerk told him someone was waiting in the prep room to redo the tests. He sat down again on a trolley in the small prep room and continued to wait, feeling that he'd signed away his life when he entered the hospital. There was nothing to read, no window to look out of, and after another hour he was still waiting.

Of course there was plenty to fill his mind. Alone in the silent room, his unease began to feel like panic. He must be a coward because every muscle and nerve in his body urged him to get out. Why let the doctors cut him apart when there was no hope?

He also tried to understand his few minutes with Suzie. He'd driven back from the north through the night and arrived home at seven to find her waiting for him, seated at the kitchen table ready to leave for work. She told him she'd packed him a bag for the hospital and that she'd visit in the evening. He refused coffee because he wasn't meant to eat or drink before admittance, and told her not to bother visiting; he'd still be drugged from the anaesthetic. She asked for details of the surgery and what special arrangements he'd need when he came home. Clifford was not mentioned although he stood between them like the Berlin Wall.

"Don't come at all," Stan said. "I don't want your pity and I might think you're only there to check I'm dying fast enough."

Bitter words, but they gave him satisfaction. Suzie looked as if he'd assaulted her.