Faith In Love (2 page)

There he goes then, off again, team scarf round his neck.  Happy as a sandboy to get away, though he says not, of course.  He's lucky his brother's living up there, right by the ground.  Kills two birds with one stone when he makes the trip, pleasure and family duty at the same time.  It helps to look at it like that, along with all the other considerations.

My family duty is all here, of course, within these four walls.  I don't even have the family I was born to, they're both dead now, so there's no one to care if I stick in this little bit of a great big town till Judgment Day, and no excuse either to get away.  I feel like I really should get out more though, perhaps travel a bit, even if I haven't got a real reason you could explain to anyone else. 

I never get to see Phil these days.  Can't say how long ago it was that I last went up there.  Of course he never comes down here, to us.  But then, he sees Donald two weekends out of four so I suppose he's quite all right with that.  Wouldn't worry him that he doesn't see me at all. 

Funny to think we used to be such friends when we were young.  Don might be surprised if I told him a thing or two about that.  Not that I would tell him, what would be the point?  It's Don I chose, and that's the end of it.  Phil was so quiet you could forget he was there, always in the background whatever the occasion, and then there was Don with his fancy clothes and fancier talk, always something to say on every subject, usually something funny.  You could never forget Don was there, he wouldn't stand for it.  Had us all in stitches he did, crying with laughter.  Even my mum had to laugh at Donnie.  He used to give her stomachache she laughed so much.  I remember her saying that about him as if it was yesterday instead of nearly twenty years ago. 

Time certainly changes people though.  Don's certainly not the joker he used to be, though you can't blame him for that.  It's the responsibility I think, really, that takes the bloom off a person, not simply the passage of years.  It's that job of his, and all the uncertainty.  I don't see why he has to be a manager.  We don't need the money, not with me working too, and.  Carol will be leaving school soon and making her own living. 

Heaven's, I remember a time when he wouldn't have worn a suit for anyone.  But he wears one every day now, and has done for years, and all credit to him for it too, of course, 'cause he has to do it and a lot of other things too, for the sake of me and for the sake of Carol.  Though sometimes it's as if he has a suit
mentality
too, and I never really bargained for that.  I probably couldn't even explain what I mean by it if he asked me, which he wouldn't 'cause I'm never likely to tell him I feel like that, not after everything he's done for me and for Carol that he never wanted to do.  I wouldn't be so ungrateful.  It's just that I thought he could be free still, always be a bright spark, always bubbling over, even if he did have to wear a suit week in week out. 

No wonder he has such a thing about the football, it's his only relaxation, his only escape.  Gets him away from all the worry of working and paying the bills.  I suppose he becomes like a different person when he's at the match, without a care in the world, perhaps like a little boy again, before he found out the way things really are. 

I could almost envy him for having such an abiding interest, almost an obsession, you might say.  Though I must admit, I'm glad he doesn't bring it home with him like some husbands do.  I should thank heaven I don't have scarves and rosettes and team photos to contend with in the living room.  And that I'm not required to keep up with the team's position in the league table.  Nor am I expected to be solicitous about the most recent groin injury of the team's star striker.

There was more of that sort of thing when he supported Spurs!  I suppose that was because they're only next door by comparison.  Perhaps with this lot, the physical distance puts a sort of mental distance in his head, so he kind of separates the two things, home and away you might say.  Football for him then becoming kind of a Northern thing, wife and kid becoming kind of a Southern thing.  I suppose that's the real reason he's so close-mouthed; nothing against me at all.  Though what must Phil's place be like then, if that's the case?  Littered with Man United regalia I suppose, or perhaps Phil makes him keep it all in his own room, assuming he has one. 

That would be sensible, after all Phil has to live with it, even when Don's back down here in his own home.  Twice a month he goes up to Phil's for home games.  (Only in the football season of course.  Once the calendar shows the first week of May, it's goodbye big brother till August, which presumably Phil takes in good part, because we don't hear a peep out of him in the off season.  You never know, though, Phil might relish the few months he gets to himself!)  Anyway, it's a good arrangement, which seems to suit the both of them.  

The other thing that Don does, is, sometimes, when United play down here, he goes to the home ground of whichever London team they're playing, and watches that game.  Apart from that, he keeps up to date with their doings by reading the back pages of the paper.  He never goes abroad to follow them, like some do.  Even when they were in the European Cup competition, he didn't try to do that.  I'm glad of that, you have to draw the line somewhere and it would have taken far too much out of the household budget.  He's still got his head screwed on, I'm glad to say – family first with football a very close second. 

It's funny to think back on it now, but when he first started supporting United I was worried.  I was more than worried, to be honest, because, for one thing, I'd never heard of someone changing from the team that they'd always supported since they were a boy, and secondly, I had a funny feeling, a sort of physical feeling of upset about it.  As if a very wrong thing was happening and I didn't know what.

And then, unexpectedly, I got over it.  I realised it was good for Phil, for a start, to see his little brother on a regular basis, and I suppose I got used to having a little bit of time to myself.  Not that I do anything in particular with that time, and not that I feel any less a wife or a mother for that matter being left to myself like that.  (Carol still makes her presence felt.) But I do definitely feel a little more like myself as an individual person, and that is quite a nice feeling.  It's only now and then that I feel differently about his going off every couple of weeks.  Might feel a bit down then.  I get over it though, soon enough.  And he's back before you know it anyway.  It's not worth making a fuss about.  Just make sure I've got a nice hot water bottle to take to bed, keep me nice and cosy. 

= CHAPTER 2 =

Saturday, February 12.  AM

Oh my God!  It's her!  I can't believe it!  Pearl will have to serve her.  I just can't do it.  "Pearl!  Pearl!" (Thank God she's in today!) Oh for Heaven's sake, where is she?

Pearl appears from the back of the shop.  She walks coolly past Faith and takes up her usual position behind the glass display counter.  Pearl looks alert and friendly as always when a customer appears.

One of the women that Faith saw last Saturday, the older of the two, pushes open the plate glass door and enters the shop.  She has a preoccupied frown on her face.  She is wearing the same denim jacket that she wore when Faith saw her before.  (This time it is buttoned-up to the neck against the chillier weather.)

"Can I help you, madam?" says Pearl. 

"How much are those little cakes in the window?"

"Which ones?  The Eccles cakes are –"

"No, the ones with red hearts on the –"

"The Valentine cakes."

"Right."

"Oh, yes.  They're lovely aren't they?" says Pearl.  "They're a new line, very romantic.  Two forty nine each." 

"That's a lot, they're only small.  Still, they're nice.  I'll take one."

"Which message would you like, 'For My beloved Husband' or –"

"No, the – uh… 'For My Darling' one.  That'll do fine."  

"Very pretty.  Thank you madam, I'll just get your change." Pearl busied herself at the till.

The other woman wasn't blushing, in fact she was as white as a sheet, but Faith detected extreme embarrassment just the same as she quickly took the bulky little paper bag Pearl handed to her, pocketed the change and left the shop.  Not having given Faith a glance. 

"Were you teasing her Pearl?  'For Your Husband' and all?"

"Of course not.  Who am I to judge?  Any woman can get married.  Not only the beautiful ones."

That's when I knew with blinding clarity that my friend Pearl and myself were cut from quite different cloth; our fundamental worldviews were totally incompatible.  You see, to me, that woman who had just left the shop, was an icon of attractiveness, while to Pearl she was almost pitiably plain.  Beauty being, as they say, very much in the eye of the beholder.  I knew too that Pearl had not the slightest inkling that her most recent customer was a lesbian.  That most intriguing fact being completely remote from Pearl's consciousness.

"She probably would have been wearing a ring, Pearl, if she was married, but never mind.  Thanks for coming in today, I know it's your day off really.  Was your husband all right about it?"

"Well, yes he was, it means more money doesn't it?  You know we're saving to go back home for a while.  We have to sort out some family matters.  I can't do it every week though, you know.  Someone must see to the kids."

"Yes, well, it's only till we get some help.  Owen is advertising for someone."

"He's not paying enough, Faith, that's what I think."

"You and me both, Pearl, but he won't be told, so we just have to carry on regardless."

"Is he only wanting a Saturday worker?"

"Yes.  And we do need one.  Believe it or not Pearl, it's usually much busier than this at weekends.  I think people aren't coming out today 'cause it's so cold."

"I wouldn't come out if I didn't have to."

"Me neither, Pearl.  But anyway, as you're here, maybe you wouldn't mind finishing up for me just this once.  I have to get to the shops before they close."

"Tesco's will still be open."

"It's not Tesco's I want.  I have to do some special shopping, for Valentine's Day!"

"You celebrate Valentine's Day?  I didn't dream you were so romantic."

"Well, not usually, but I thought I would for a change.  I don't suppose Don will think of it, but never mind.  It'll be fun making the effort."

"I think you were inspired by our romantic customer Faith, but anyway, you go off whenever you like.  You know I don't mind.  Some day you might do me a favour in return.  Why not take one of these little cakes with you?  They're really very pretty and we've still got nearly a dozen left."

"I will, just to please you, Pearl, but Don'll have to eat it, they're far too sweet for me.  Don't worry, though. Valentine's Day isn't till Monday, so we've still got time to shift the rest.  I bet we do, too.  You're such a good saleswoman, Pearl, I reckon you could sell them all by yourself!  Anyway, I'll get off now and see you next week.  Enjoy the rest of the weekend."

"And you.  Have a romantic time."

"I won't even see Don till Sunday evening, but still, never mind, look on the bright side.  Bye for now."

"Bye.  Bye."

~ ~ ~

How thrilling – Valentine's Day on Monday!  That woman bought her special someone a cake, (her "Darling" I should say).  Well, now I've got Don a cake too!  I can buy him a card as well, and if that shop down the road is still open, which it probably is, I can get something else that will definitely give him something to think about.  We haven't bothered for years,(well you don't, do you, after a while), so he'll be all the more impressed when he sees what I've got for him.  A real romantic package wrapped up in red ribbons.  Better make sure Carol doesn't see anything though, she'll think I'm really stupid. 

~ ~ ~

Faith is sitting alone on the marital bed looking at herself in the mirror on the heavy old-fashioned dressing table.  Faith has very dark wavy hair and very white skin.  Her teeth are very white too.  Her plump lips are very red.  Faith is wearing a satin bra and satin panties.  The satin is as red as her lips.  Faith takes up the kind of pose she often sees in the newspapers Don brings home.  It is an attractive sight, but Faith is far from happy.  

I don't know, I do wish he hadn't gone this time.  Obviously I don't begrudge him his pleasures, of course I don't, but, just the same.  I don't know what it is, but the more I tried to convince Pearl that I didn't mind, the more I realised that I did.  I think the trouble was, she was trying so hard to understand, that it became painfully obvious that her life is totally different from mine.  She's got her whole family around her, who clearly hate being parted from her for a moment, and who'd never even let her out of their sight if they didn't need the money she brings in. 

And me, what have I got?  A husband who loves football at least as much as he loves me; and a daughter who scarcely speaks to me (or to him, for that matter).  And who spends her entire time either asleep or watching endless TV in her room, or, when she's not in her room, is forever on the telephone to who knows who.  That of course is when she
is
home, because she isn't always.  And I can't even begin to guess where she is when she isn't.  And I even try to not try to guess.  (So as to avoid invading her privacy.) Because, even though she still does have some rather childish ways, she is in fact sixteen and a quarter, so is not entirely a child anymore.  (Well I wasn't at her age anyway, even though no one
seemed to notice that, or recognise my need for privacy or respect me as a human being with my own identity, although I didn't have the confidence to put myself over fully and completely at that age.)