A Stable Arrangement.

A Stable Arrangement.

He walked in one day after work, turned the telly off and said, “Do you love me?”
“I was watching that!” I said. He just looked at me. “What a question!” I said.”
“Well, do you?”
“What do you mean, do I love you? We’ve been married over thirty years.”
“I know that, Joyce.”
“What brought this on all of a sudden? Sit down for goodness sake, standing there like a policeman. What’s happened?” Frank walked to the table and sat down with a thump. He was looking down at the table but not really looking at anything. I had my hand on the remote. “I was watching that, Frank. Deirdre was just going to...”
“I was at work painting that empty house this morning, half listening to the radio,” Frank said, still staring at something in his head. “They were going on about poor families in Auckland living in those terrible places without power and that. This bloke reckoned it was their own fault, you know, drugs and booze and so on. And the interviewer said, we’ll see what our listeners think about that. And I thought, I know what Joyce would say if they asked her. And I did know, word for word.” Frank leaned back in his chair, threw his hands up and let them fall. Then he looked at me and said, “But I didn’t know what I’d say. Didn’t know what I thought.” He kept staring at me as though he expected me to know what he was on about. It wasn’t like Frank. He usually just came in, had his shower and sat down to his tea. It was only on Tuesdays and Thursdays when Coro’ was on that he had to wait a bit. I’m not one of those women who sit on their backsides and watch the telly all day.
“What’s wrong with not knowing what to think about something?” I said, “You can’t know everything. Anyway, what does it matter what you think of those people? It’s not as though it’s your kids in those places.” Frank shook his head and looked away, the way he does when we get into a bit of an argument. He hates arguments. His mother was always going on at his dad.
“I’ll be fifty four soon, Joyce. Fifty four years old and I don’t even know what I think. Did you ever love me, at first, I mean, when we got married? “
“Of course I did, you soft bugger. It was lovely. Best wedding our family ever had. And that week in the Isle of Mann on our honeymoon. So romantic and everything. Every girl’s dream. We had a lovely time. Of course we were in love. You must remember?”
“Yeah,” I’ve been remembering all day,” Frank said, “All sorts of things. I remember when we came out here because your Brenda was here. Then she went back and we stayed. I’d hardly been outside Widnes.
“But you liked it here. That first year you said you didn’t want to go back ever, even for a visit. You could have gone back with me last year and the time before that. Don’t blame me for...”
“I’m not blaming you, Joyce. It was me.” I was too young.” Frank sighed. “I’ve been wondering who I’d be if we’d never met. You know, If I’d stayed in Widnes all my life. Can’t work out what brought this on. Never thought like this before.”
After he’d had his shower and his tea, Frank was just starting on the dishes when he turned and said, “I shouldn’t have asked you that. You know, if you love me. I know you don’t. I don’t mind really. I mean, no offence but I don’t love you either, not desperate like.” Then he turned his attention to the dishes.
If I’d have thought about it properly, it wouldn’t have bothered me either. But saying he didn’t love me straight out like that made me feel like having a lie down. After a bit I said, “But we do things for each other, Frank. That’s the important thing. I mean, look at all those people who say they love each other to bits and the next thing you know they’re moving in with someone else. We know where we stand. We’re stable. That’s what matters. What’s love got to do with it?”
“Nothing really I suppose,” Frank said, his back to me, rubbing away at the inside of the cups. “It’s living together all that time, you see. You get sort of fused. You were always quicker than me and I suppose I found it easy to fall in with what you thought. Bit of a shock this, wondering what I think about things.
Next morning I was talking to Jane on the phone about Robert’s second tooth when she said, “And how’s Dad?” She asks every day and I usually say, “oh, the usual, never any change with Frank.” So it was no wonder she went quiet after I told her. Then she said, “Don’t worry about it, it’s probably just mid-life whats-a-name. No one more solid than dad. He’ll get over it.” But I could tell by her voice she was worried too.
“Have you told Pete?”
“No, I haven’t told Pete. He’s a man isn’t he. He’d probably tell me it’s disloyal to talk about his dad’s personal stuff.”
It’s usually a job to get a word in with Jane but she didn’t say anything. “So, what do you think?” I asked her.
“I don’t know, mum.”
“That’s a fat lot of good.”
“Well, I don’t! What can I say except, well, do you, you know, love him?”
“Don’t you start!”
“I’m not. I just thought, you know, maybe he doesn’t feel loved anymore.”
“Oh, and what about me, doesn’t matter if I feel unloved, I suppose?”
“I never said that. It’s just... I mean. How loved are you supposed to still feel at your age? Oh, I don’t know! Maybe he’s coming down with something or he’s depressed. You’d never know with dad. He doesn’t say much, does he?”
“He never used to. That’s why this is such a...Well, it’s not like him. Anyway, I can hear Robert crying so I’ll let you go now.”
When Frank came home from work I had his tea ready, mashed potato and gravy with liver and kidneys, his favourite. But he just stabbed the kidneys with his fork and chewed them slowly, like he wasn’t really interested. Then he said, “You’ll be okay if I leave, will you, Joyce?
“Leave!”
“I’m going away. You can have the car, I’ll walk or go by bus or whatever. Have a look around the country. Might even go back to England and see what’s there besides Widnes.”
“What about work? Frank looked at me and ever so slightly shook his head, as though he knew I’d never understand. “I’ve let that go,” he said. He could have been talking about freeing a sparrow trapped in the garage. “Don’t know why I didn’t let it go years ago. Not as though I’ve ever enjoyed it. The mortgage is paid.”
I just looked at him. I must have looked at him for a minute trying to get behind what he was saying. It was all too much too fast. “So, you get to bugger off and find yourself while I have to manage on my own.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that . A bit sudden I know but I’m going in the morning.”
Frank wrote postcards from time to time for the first year but after that I only heard about him from the cards he sent to Jane and Pete. He said even less in writing than he did speaking. He worked as a barman in hotels. I couldn’t think of a job he was less suited to. But who am I to talk? If he was happier he didn’t say so but he never came back. I missed him for a long time. Miss him still sometimes. So I suppose in a way I did love him.
The End.