Forever Is Over (98 page)

“
I don
’
t think so. She just knows what effect it has on me. If I
’
m tired
and not really in the mood, she knows it
’
ll give me that little bit of zest,
you know, turn David Bruce Banner into the
‘
Incredible Bulk
’
!
”

“
Great! I am now picturing your green penis!
”

“
Surprisingly, it is not really green!
”

“
Sorry but I am always going to imagine you have a green penis
now! How old is Jake now then?
”

“
One in August.
”

We were outside at the courtyard in the Buck. Dogger, myself and
a pushchair containing his little son, Jake who was fast asleep. We were using the quiet time to sup a couple of quick pints of Guinness and catch
up. Sandra and Jemma had gone shopping. I took a big swig of my drink
and continued my questioning wearing a creamy moustache.

“
And Sandra is just as sexually charged now as she was before Jake
was born?
”

“
She
’
s worse.
”

“
In what way
‘
worse
’
, Dogger?
”

“
She used to want it three or four times a week, it
’
s pretty much
every night now.
”

I almost choked on my Guinness.

“
And you call that
‘
worse
’
?
”

“
It
’
s hard work when you
’
re knackered, Richie!
”

“
POOR YOU!
”
I said in both a sarcastic and mildly aggressive way.

It was pent up anger caused by a lack of what Dogger was getting far
too much of!

“
Sandra just went like that after she recovered from the birth. She
worried that with her breasts sagging and her stretch marks, that I
might not be attracted to her any more. It
’
s insecurity really.
”

“
I wish Jemma was insecure. When the girls come back from
shopping, I
’
m going to tell Jemma she
’
s bloody ugly and I find her
repulsively unattractive!
”

“
Don
’
t think it
’
ll work, mate! Different kettles of fish, Jemma and
Sandra.
”

“
Maybe it
’
s not them. Maybe it
’
s us,
”
I replied,
“
maybe if I had a
green knob too, Jemma might want it more often!
”

“
It
’
s not that! Jemma
’
s self-confident and self-assured, you should
have married a needy bird!
”

I reflected on his point briefly.

“
I
’
m happy with my marriage, Dogger, it
’
s just the sex rations that
are hard to take.
”

It was Dogger
’
s turn to take a long, reflective drink of his pint. He
put it down and his face looked more intense and less amused.

“
You see, Richie, that
’
s where we differ. I would not consider myself
to be overly happily married.
”

This was a complete shock to me. Sandra was not the world
’
s most
attractive woman, but then Dogger was hardly Mel Gibson either. He
was punching above his weight with Sandra and with the fringe benefits,
I thought he had a cheek to complain.

“
Dogger, your glass isn
’
t half empty here, mate! You are having
sex every night! Your glass is so full, its contents are spilling over the
sides!
”

Dogger shook his head.

“
You
’
re wrong, mate. The sex is just there to make up for our other
deficiencies. We have very little in common. We barely talk to each
other. To be honest, I find her a little bit thick! Then there
’
s the problem
that she is the most possessive woman in the world, if I even slightly
turn my head when we walk down the road, Sandra
’
s nostrils flare and
she
’
s like,

“
What are you looking at her for? Do you know her?
”

Last week, we were walking past the Sixth Form block at the
Grammar just as they were all coming out at half three and I swear I
didn
’
t even look, but Sandra was like,

“
Put your tongue back in, she
’
s a child, Andy!
”

I thought how much I would have hated that. One thing I definitely
wasn
’
t, was a hen pecked husband.

“
We went down to Kent the other week to visit some of Sandra
’
s
family,
”
continued Dogger, he was getting it all off his chest now,
“
so
they could see Jake. It must have taken about six hours to get there and
the whole way down was either silences or trivial chit-chat about Jake.
We just don
’
t have anything to say to each other any more that does not
revolve around the baby.
”

“
Bet you got a shag when you went to bed that night though!
”

I was trying to lighten the mood. This was supposed to be a rare
opportunity for an enjoyable pint with a mate and it had all gone pear
shaped. It was my fault, I started it. Dogger preferred to continue with
the sombre stuff.

“
That
’
s not the point, Richie! My sex life is great but I would swop
in a heartbeat to have a relationship like you
’
ve got with Jemma. I see
how you two are together, you make each other laugh, you have lots to
talk about or even argue about. I would love a relationship like that.
A relationship were you are passionate about each other. Any passion
Sandra and I have is solely reserved for the bedroom. It
’
s great that
Sandra likes sex, but that and Jake are our only bonds. There needs to
be more in a relationship than just an active sex life and a shared love
for a child. It feels like Sandra and I don
’
t love each other, we just need
each other.
”

This felt like Dogger had opened up a wound and we were just
sat there as all the blood and guts spilt out. He was an emotional
haemophiliac.

“
Dogger, I understand where you are coming from, mate. I just
don
’
t understand why we can
’
t have both the good things from your
relationship and the good things from mine. A brilliant relationship
both mentally and physically.
”

Dogger blew out.

“
It
’
s the kids, mate, they
’
re hard work. At least your sex life will
return to normality as Melissa and Jamie get older. I just think Sandra
and I have more to worry about.
”

“
I hope these things sort themselves out for both of us, Dogger. I just want everything to be right.
”

Having seemingly calmed down a little, my statement fired Dogger
up all over again.

“
Do you know what your problem is, Richie? If something is 99%
right, you dwell on that 1%. Stop doing that! Stop thinking about all the
things that aren
’
t right and start thinking about all the things that are.
Jemma
’
s fantastic, Richie! You have two lovely children. Be grateful for everything you have. There are a lot of miserable, lonely, single people
out there who would swop with you in the blink of an eye!
”

Dogger was cross with me, but I still thought he had no right to be.

“
So says the man who has sex every night! Pot, kettle, black, Dogger
mate! Pot, kettle, black!
”

Sometimes clarity does not exist in a relationship. Your perspective
is clouded by a desire for the relationship to succeed. It is only once
you analyse the relationship from a safe distance of time away, that you
can accurately judge whether it was a good one or a complete disaster.
With hindsight, my relationship with Brad Hughes, should not have
lasted beyond a few crazy days in Cai
rns. The problem I had at that
stage in my life was that I was incredibly lonely. Touring around the
world sounds wonderful to the
‘
stay-at-homes
’
, but it can be a lonely
existence. There is a general consensus that in life you should not just
“
settle
”
. Don
’
t just make do with something or someone mediocre, you
owe it to yourself to look for something better. This isn
’
t always true.
People chase dreams when sometimes they need a reality check. If you
are ugly as sin with the intelligence and conversational skills of a gnat,
no matter how hard you try, at some stage you are going to have to
accept that Tom Cruise is not going to be the man for you! In Australia,
subconsciously, I must have done my reality check. Brad was no Prince
Charming, but he was company and I was lonely. Richie used to call
this his
“
Black Jack Theory
”
. On that basis, I would have scored Brad a
sixteen. A safe option but not a great one. The fear of loneliness dragged
that relationship along for seven months in Australia and a further three
in New Zealand.

A chance meeting at
‘
Franz Josef Glacier
’
, on the west coast of
New Zealand
’
s South Island changed everything. It opened my eyes to
the fact that Brad and I had no future. Using Richie
’
s analogy again, I
suddenly became aware that the cards that I held were two eights rather
than an Ace and a King! Our trip to the glacier resulted in the death of
our relationship and although we managed to tolerate each other long
enough to get the
“
Ute
”
we had been travelling in, up to Picton, for the
ferry crossing to Wellington, once we arrived in the North Island, I bade Brad farewell and he travelled on in the
“
Ute
”
, whilst I stayed in a hostel
for a few days before heading off to the fragrant smells of Rotorua.

I am sure as I grew older, I also grew less tolerant! I was definitely
more laid back as a child and young adult. Mum was a complete fruitcake,
the winner of
“
World
’
s Looniest Lady
”
for twelve years running, but
her erratic, drunken, aggressive behaviour did not seem to irritate me as
much as it irritated Jemma. Jemma herself had more than her fair share
of
‘
hissy fits
’
and
‘
teenage tantrums
’
, but I seemed to tolerate her too. I
just kept everything bottled it up until that one life changing night. If
Mum had not made the transition from v
erbal abuse to physical abuse,
I would have probably headed off to University and married Richie. We
would have settled somewhere in English suburbia, a stone
’
s throw
from a country pub, with our four children and two cocker spaniels.
Mum kept pushing Jemma though until that night when I quite literally
pushed back.