In Remembrance of Things Past

In Remembrance of Things Past

For Julie Campbell Monday mornings were always the same; wake the kids,
get them dressed, make their breakfasts, prepare all the packed lunches
and even once her husband Bill had climbed into his car and driven off
to the city her work wasn't done. The kids still had to have their
faces cleaned, shoelaces tied and piled into the car for the short trip
to the primary school. This wouldn't have been quite so bad, she
thought, had she not had to face this same routine every day. And
that's exactly what it was - routine. Since giving up her job to stay
at home with the kids she felt that her life was on a treadmill.
Sometimes she felt that she could go miles in a day, carry out lots of
the same small tasks without actually getting anywhere and achieving
anything of note. She didn't want to sound snobby about this but most
of the other young mothers in the village weren't like her. They hadn't
given up a promising career to become a full-time mum. Of course, many
of them had had jobs, she had heard them talking about them, but they
weren't careers. They were just things they had done in between leaving
school and having children. The only other person who had understood
how she felt had been Karen McBride but now she was gone; taken by
cancer the year before, leaving behind her husband and two small
children to carry on without her.
As she waved her kids off at the school gate she considered the trip
home and the mountains of ironing that awaited her return. Then there
was the dusting and the vacuuming and the bathroom to be cleaned?. the
list of small, mundane tasks, which taken together amounted to her
life, filled her with despair and she made up her mind that today would
be different. She would give herself a day off. So what, she thought
defiantly, if the house wasn't spotless? No one came to visit them
anyway and Bill wouldn't notice anyway. Besides, he rarely shifted
himself from the sofa these days to do anything other than look for the
television remote control. Sometimes she felt like she had three kids
and no husband.
So with a sense of purpose that she knew would vanish soon enough she
turned the ignition of her car and drove off in the direction of the
Village Square.

* * *

Michael Jongbloed was a Dutchman who ran the caf? in the village. At
first people had suspected that coming from Amsterdam he would try and
set up a "brown caf?" and specialise in the sale of cannabis and
related products. On the opening day the police had raided it and since
no contraband was found he had been pretty much left alone after that.
Following Scotland's devolution from the rest of the UK there had been
a softening in the authorities' attitude towards soft drugs and many of
the locals felt it was only a matter of time before Jongbloed tried his
hand. To date, no such attempt had been made to change things and on
that Monday morning in June when Julie Campbell entered the caf? and
took her seat everything was just as it had always been; fresh flowers
sat in an eclectic mix of vases on the tables atop crisp white
tablecloths, the cappuccino machine hissed away in the background and
through the speakers mounted high in the corners of the room came the
sound of chilled out house music.
Jongbloed came out from behind the counter and strolled across the
floor to where Julie had taken seat at the window. Withdrawing a small
pad from the pocket of his white apron he asked her what she would like
to order.
"A latte, please."
"Would you like a flavoured syrup in that?" he asked, his voice ringing
deliciously with exotic sound only a foreign accent can bring to the
English language.
"What have you got?" she asked.
He reeled off a list and she settled on hazelnut.
"What about something to eat?" he asked, looking up from his
scribbling. "We have a special. Any coffee and a Danish pastry for
?2.00."
"Go on then," she said feeling adventurous. "Why not?"
When Jongbloed had disappeared back behind the counter she took the
opportunity to look around at her fellow customers. It was just after
nine o'clock in the morning and the pre-work rush was over. The few
other customers were all strangers to her, as most of the villagers
were now. Having children, she had decided long ago, cut you off from
the social whirl, leaving only family and other couples with young
children with which to interact. Even the other mothers at the school
and the park could be stand-offish. Despite the fact that she had grown
up in Blairallan she felt like she knew very few of its current
inhabitants. On occasion she actually felt like she belonged to another
generation and in the six years she had spent away from the village,
first as a university student in Glasgow and then two years working in
Manchester, it wasn't until she returned to the area, taking up a job
in Aberdeen that she began to revisit the place where she had grown
up.
But a lot had happened in those intervening years. The village had
almost doubled in size, thanks mainly to the efforts of Frankie Bowman
and his construction company, and all of her schoolfriends had moved
away. The village seemed to be full of people who worked in the oil
industry - French, Dutch, Norwegians, Americans - and all of them stuck
together in their own little cliques, making it difficult to form
friendships.
When Bill Campbell moved back to the village following his divorce he
temporarily lived with his mother, licensee of The Gordon Arms. It had
been on a visit to the pub with her sister Kate that Julie had met him.
He seemed different to all the other young men in the village and the
fact that he had been divorced gave him a certain amount of notoriety.
He had been attracted to Julie almost instantly, remembering her no
doubt from school, and had pestered her for a number of weeks to go out
with him. Flattered, but not wanting to appear too eager, she had at
first resisted. Then, when it seemed like he may not ask her again she
agreed and they began dating. After eight months of courtship she fell
pregnant, and fearing disapproval from their families, they decided to
get married. During their time together the two of them had never
actually said the words I love you to each other. However, both felt
that it was something that would come once they were married, and
although they had since uttered the words they seemed, at least on
every occasion that Julie spoke them, to lack conviction.

* * *

The next day, Tuesday, Julie reprised her visit to the caf? and
Jongbloed joked that she was in danger of becoming a regular. She had
laughed and ordered a latte with hazelnut syrup and a Danish pastry,
again taking her seat by the window. The only difference being that she
had brought a newspaper and had decided that this time she would stay a
little longer. She was part of the way through that morning's Guardian
when the caf? door opened and her attention was drawn from the page by
the newcomer's voice. It was a voice she knew well and she as looked up
towards the counter she sensed that her heart was beating just a little
faster than usual. The newcomer turned around and looked over at her
but said nothing. Why should he, she thought? It must have been at
least twelve years since he had left the village. But what was it, she
asked herself, that had brought him back?
The man paid for his coffee and as he turned around to look for a set
she averted her gaze back to the newspaper. The words in front of her
had started to appear jumbled and they were still failing to make sense
when she felt a presence beside her.
"It's Julie Gray, isn't it?"
Instead of looking up Julie turned over the page of the newspaper and
corrected him. "Campbell, actually. Julie Campbell."
"Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked.
"No," she said. "Feel free."
She still hadn't raised her eyes from the paper; and although she was
dying to she couldn't bring herself to do it. Why did he have to come
in today of all days, she wondered? She looked a sight, wearing a polo
shirt, jogging bottoms and trainers. She hadn't even had time to do her
hair properly this morning, instead it had been tied back hurriedly in
a scrunchie. She felt like she thought she looked: like a tired and
washed out mother of two.
"You won't remember me," he started, but Julie interrupted him.
"Oh but I do," she said trying to concentrate on the meaningless jumble
of words on the page in front of her.
"You do?" He said, sounding surprised. She couldn't see, of course, but
she imagined that his eyebrows would have raised just a little bit. If
she had looked she would have seen that she had been right.
"I'd have thought," he continued. "That after thirteen years you would
have forgotten who I was."
"Twelve," she said looking up and catching his gaze for the first time.
"It's been twelve years."
"It's nice that you've been counting," he said biting into his Danish
pastry. "But it's definitely thirteen. Have you missed me?"
"Terribly," she said, trying to use sarcasm to hide her
nervousness.
"So what have you been up to in the meantime?"
"Not a lot," she said, finally giving up on the newspaper and closing
it. "The usual - university, job, marriage, kids. What about
you?"
He leaned forward across the table, adding a sudden shot of intimacy to
the moment. "Oh the unusual - job, no marriage, no kids."
She wanted to ask him why not? It couldn't have been a shortage of
offers; he was as she had always remembered him - handsome, charming
and quietly confident. In fact he looked a lot better than she
remembered him. Of course, that had been the late 1980s and it was now
a new century, yet despite the years that had passed he still looked
largely the same. His hair was still the same sandy brown, his eyes the
same green flecked with brown, and she knew that if she touched his
face it would still be as smooth as it had felt all those years ago
when they had been together.
Realising that she was in danger of doing something silly if she stayed
she pushed back her chair and stood up.
"Well it's been nice to see you again," she said lifting her car keys
from the table.
"I hope I've not chased you away," he said, holding her gaze for just a
fraction too long. Was he flirting with her, she wondered? Indeed, had
she been flirting with him, she asked herself?
"No, no," she told him trying to sound calm. "I've got someone coming
to fix something and I have to get back for it."
"Well," he said. "Why don't we meet up for a drink sometime? I'm
staying here for a few days at the Laird of Blairallan."
"I don't think so," she said. "My husband wouldn't like it."
"But we're only meeting as friends, right?"
She knew then that he had sensed that there was still an attraction
there on her part, but instead of being angered by his arrogance she
found herself excited, viewing it more as confidence on his part. More
than that she was flattered that he had wanted to meet her for a
drink.
But then again, Andrew Patterson had never been lacking in charm.

* * *

Like an alcoholic who knows that they are only a drink away from being
a drunk again, Julie knew that she was only a phone call away from
becoming addicted once more. She surprised herself by lasting
twenty-four hours before making the call to Andrew Patterson's
hotel.
"I'm afraid there's no answer from his room," the receptionist had told
her. "Can I take a message?"
Julie had left a brief, cryptic message that wouldn't identify her
along with her mobile number. When the phone rang and an unfamiliar
number was displayed on her handset she knew it could only be
him.
"Hello, Julie?"
"Yes."
"You called the hotel earlier. Sorry I was out," he said. "In fact I've
only just got back from Aberdeen. I had a meeting to go to."
"It wasn't important," she told him. "I just wondered if that
invitation for a drink was still open?"
"Of course," he said.
"What about tonight?" she asked, instantly kicking herself. She should
have said tomorrow night. After all, he did say he was staying for a
few nights and she didn't want to sound too eager.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do tonight. Business I'm afraid but what
about tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Sounds fine. Where?"
"The Hotel?"
"Fine. See you about eight o'clock in the bar?"
"Okay. Bye."
She pressed a button to end the call, thought for a moment about what
had occurred between them and then asked herself what the hell she
thought she was up to.

* * *

She found that she was unable to sleep that night and when Bill,
sensing her insomnia, rolled over and started his ritual dance that
preceded sex, she found that she was unable to summon the energy to
fight him off. As he laboured above her in the darkness she just lay
there and thought about Andrew, imagining that it was he and not her
husband who was moving inside her; his semen that would attempt to
plant its seed where no seed could be sown; and his face that she
kissed when it came down towards hers.
Since no satisfaction was forthcoming she waited until she could hear
the snoring from beside her that signalled her husband was asleep.
Then, without noise or strong movement, she placed her fingers between
her legs and touched herself until she felt the sensations that Bill
had denied her flood across her body in waves.
After her climax she lay in the darkness and remembered what it had
been like with Andrew. He had been two years older than her at school,
growing up just a few doors away from her home in the old village. He
had been popular at Blairallan Academy; captain of the school football
team that twice won the Aberdeenshire Schools' League and Head Boy in
his Sixth Year. He had always known that Julie had been attracted to
him and he had come round to her house one evening in the May of her
fourth year to invite her to the Leavers' Dance. Realising that she
would be the envy of many she had accepted. That night he had also
asked her to go out with him and when she had said yes he had kissed
her. She was sixteen years old, yet to attain the full level of
prettiness that she would as an adult, and it was the first time in her
life that she had been French kissed by a boy. The experience was not
to be forgotten, nor was the evening in late September of that same
year when she climbed into his parents' bed and allowed him to make
love her.
Six days later he left for university in St Andrews and had never
returned. Until the day before yesterday, when he had walked into the
caf? in Blairallan village square and once again back into her
life.
And it couldn't have happened at a worse time.

* * *

She hadn't intended to sleep with him; well at least not straightaway,
but after a couple of glasses of wine she found herself succumbing to
his charm. It was all too predictable, she thought. He had always
possessed the ability to persuade, and the compliments on how she had
looked, how she had dressed, had gone to her head with the same speed
and power as the chilled glasses of Chardonnay. Before she had had time
to think about it she was in his room, helping him off with his shirt
and allowing his hands to wander to places where only her husband's had
been in the last seven years.
And it was just as she had remembered sex could be - passionate, vital,
tender - but most of all, pleasurable. Andrew had been a considerate
lover; paying great attention to her needs and desires. So much so that
she felt prepared to anything in return for him.
It was just after eleven when she closed the front door of her house.
She had changed her clothes in the hotel room and the bag was now
sitting in the boot of her car. As she had locked the car in the
driveway she could feel its presence, festering away like a sore; a
clear indicator of her infidelity. She would dispose of it the next day
when the kids were at school and Bill was at work. The clothes would be
washed and ironed, and no one would ever know the use to which they had
been put.
Bill was still awake when she climbed into bed.
"You're late," he said yawning. From his tone it was clear he suspected
nothing. But that was normal, wasn't it? After all, what could he be
suspicious of?
"I'm sorry," she said. "I bumped into an old friend from work and we
went for a drink and a bite to eat. I should have called but I just
forgot."
And that was it - the second of the lies. The first one she had told
had been when she had said to Bill that she was going shopping in
Aberdeen; Thursday night traditionally being late-night shopping in the
city. The second, which was clearly the bigger of the two, had been a
far easier one to tell.
Not only had she become an adulterer but she was now also a liar. But
as she lay there in the darkness trying to remember how Andrew had
touched her that evening she was hit by a stark thought: didn't being
one automatically make you the other?

* * *

She spent most of Friday in Andrew Patterson's bed, feeling just as she
had when she had been at university. There she had taken a few lovers
and on more than one occasion they had skipped lectures to spend the
day in bed. Now, of course it wasn't lectures she was trying to escape
but life.
"Why did you come back?" she asked during a lull in their
lovemaking.
"I had some business in Aberdeen and I thought why not combine it with
a trip back here. After all, the city is only twenty-odd miles from
here."
Julie was suddenly aware that in all the time they had spent together
he had never told her what it was he did for a living.
"So what kind of business is it you're in?" she asked.
"IT. I design websites for businesses."
"Who do you work for?"
At this point he laughed. "I don't work for anyone," he said with a
smile. "I own my own business. It's doing very well too."
"How well?" she asked, intrigued. She wanted to know exactly how
successful he had become.
"Well enough to have been able to send someone else up here to seal the
deal. A deal, incidentally, worth a cool half a million."
"I'm impressed," she said. And she was. "Good looking, rich, successful
and fantastic in bed. I don't know how I can manage without you?"
"What if you didn't have to?"
Julie was stunned. Was he really proposing what she thought?
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Why not come away with me? It's not like you're happy here."
"And how would you know that?" she asked.
"Well you wouldn't be in my bed for a start," he said.
"I don't know," she said doubtfully. "Leaving Bill's a big step."
"I've been thinking recently about settling down. Getting married,
having kids. Why not with you?"
Why not indeed, she thought?
"It'd be great. The business is doing well enough for me to take a bit
of early retirement. I've got his fantastic place in Peurto
Banus."
"Where's that?" interrupted Julie.
"It's in southern Spain. We could go and live there."
It sounded idyllic but it also sounded a little too fast. She would
need to think about it and she told him as much.
"Well you've got until Tuesday," he told her, rolling on top of her and
sliding his erection inside her.
"Why Tuesday?" she asked.
"Because that's when I'm going back to London."
And just for a moment she felt like one of his business deals.

* * *

Monday evening, 6.30pm. Julie Campbell sat in her bathroom, perched on
the closed toilet seat, mobile phone in her hand. Nervously, she tapped
out Andrew Patterson's number and pressed the call button. Within
seconds she heard the click and familiar sound of his voice.
"Yes?"
"Andrew, it's me. I've thought a lot about what you said."
"And?"
"I'll do it. I'll pack the car tomorrow and meet you at the
hotel."
"What time?"
"Eleven o'clock."
"Okay. I'll see you then."
Click.
Julie pressed the button to end the call, and much more besides.

* * *

"So where are we going Mummy?"
Julie turned round in the front seat and looked at her son. Steven sat
there, looking puzzled and every inch his father's son, and for a
moment she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Next to him in
her car seat sat Katie, oblivious to everything around her except the
lollipop she now sat licking.
"Just a little trip," she told him.
When she had collected the kids from school that morning she had
invented a family emergency; one serious enough to allow for their
absence, but not so worrying as to end up backfiring on them if she
chickened out in the end. But now, as they sat outside The Laird of
Blairallan, waiting for Andrew Patterson to appear she knew she
wouldn't chicken out. She knew that she was doing the right thing. She
had loved Andrew years before and possibly had never stopped loving him
down through all the years they had been apart. Now, they would be
together. They might even have a baby, she thought, placing a hand on
her belly. She had already stopped taking the pill in anticipation,
after all, he had mentioned having children when he had asked her to go
away with him?
Then he appeared, looking unruffled in a light grey suit with a plain
white shirt, open at the collar and without a tie. He looked every bit
the modern, self-made businessman. He raised a hand and walked over
towards them. Julie opened her window. Andrew peered inside and looked
at the kids.
"Who's this?" he asked.
"These are my kids Steven and Katie. Say hello kids."
The kids both said hello.
"Hi kids," replied Andrew, although there was something in his voice
that registered a slight alarm in Julie's mind.
"Julie, can I have a word with you?" he asked her. "In private?"
Julie turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. Together they
walked to the foyer of the hotel.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked her.
Julie half-laughed. "Going away with you?"
"And them?" asked Andrew pointing towards her car.
"My kids, they're coming with us, aren't they?"
Patterson looked away.
"But you said you wanted to settle down. Get married have kids."
"I know I did," he told her. "But my kids, not someone else's."
Julie glanced back at the car. From where she was standing she could
see Steven's head bobbing up and down as he struggled to see out of the
window. Then looking back at Patterson she remembered everything; the
way it felt when he moved inside her, the way the hairs on the back of
her neck would rise to attention when he kissed her and the way it had
felt all those years ago in his parents' bed. There was, however, one
thing that she had forgotten in all those years apart and it was this
that she now remembered.
"You know Andrew, it's been nice, this little stroll down memory lane.
After all, I had forgotten how handsome you were and how you were such
a considerate lover. But I've suddenly remembered the one thing about
you that I had tried to forget."
"And what's that?" he asked.
"How you could be such a selfish bastard."
And with that she folded her arms across her chest and started to walk
back to the car. For the moment there were no tears to sting her eyes -
they would come later. All she felt now was rage and a huge sense of
betrayal. Her past had owed her a future but unfortunately it had come
up short.
As she strapped the seatbelt across her lap she looked up towards the
hotel. Patterson had gone inside. He hadn't wasted any time hanging
about. There had been no struggle on his part to make her stay; and for
Julie that had been the hardest part.
"Where are we going Mummy?" asked her son from behind.
She looked at his face in the rear view mirror. "We're going to the
seaside."
Both kids cheered. That was it; she would take the kids out for the
day, come home, unpack the bags just as if she had never contemplated
leaving and return to her life. If Bill found out the kids had missed
school, well, she would just lie to him.
After all, being with Andrew Patterson had at least taught her how to
do that.