Time For Goodbye

Time For Goodbye

She sits beside me as I look out the conservatory window and
contemplate the frost bitten fuchsias that I couldn't bring in this
year. So involved in her damn dinner party that she can't take one
minute to appreciate the little things around her. I savour it all now.
I really see the varying shades of the common garden birds. The
sparrows with feathers the colour of coffee to the blackbirds with
plumage so black, it flickers blue. I really hear their song, the pick
and snap of bark as they nest in the branches of the ancient oak tree.
But her? No, too busy.

On the dining table, a mound of paper is spread out before her, a pen
protruding from between her lips like the cigarette that once protruded
from mine. Not any more, that little indulgence has been banned along
with almost every other blasted thing. We'll have no more of that now,
we will George? No, dear.

"George? What are you thinking about?" She peers at my face. "Are you
smiling?"

God forbid.

She waves a hand in front of her to dismiss me. "Anyway, I'm all done
with my list of guests to my little soiree. I'll start making the phone
calls in a minute. What do you think?" She looks to the sky for an
answer rather than me.

Who cares about a stupid dinner party, huh? She's only after any bits
of gossip she can pick up. She really is a nosy so and so, I just can't
help but love her. I'd do anything for her, if the time was
right.

"I think I'll have a little glass of champagne to celebrate," she
giggles, running a carefree hand through her hair. "Do you want some
nice hot chocolate?"

Ooo, whoopee!

"I'll pop in and get us some drinks and then I'd better start making a
list of appetisers," she says, heaving her bulk from the chair. "Will
you be alright on your own for a minute?"

I'm hardly likely to go anywhere am I?

* * *

Two weeks on and it's the evening of the dinner party - Yippee! She
leads me by the elbow through the pristine hallway, past the fake two
foot Grecian vases and the imitation antique bureau. The spicy smell of
pot pourri is so pungent that it fills my throat, making me gag. She
snaps her head around to look at me.

"George! For goodness sake, don't you dare make noises like that when
our guests arrive," she cries. "Whatever will they think?"

I raise my good hand in a way of apology. She holds her glare for a few
seconds before her eyes soften.

"I do love you, you know, George." She gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
"I know you think them silly, but these little get togethers of ours
are so important to me."

Ours?

I force a smile and she returns it with a sigh that I could only guess
at being gratitude.

Suddenly, I'd give anything to strip down to my incontinence pants and
sing Hi Ho Silver. She stops abruptly in front of the double doors to
the dining room. Taking my arms, she places me in the spot where I will
receive the maximum impact of her endeavours.

"Are you ready?" she asks, dancing from one foot to the other like a
child waiting to pee.

I give her the expected wink, which is part of our bizarre made up
language now. She takes a deep breath before turning on her heel and
flinging the doors open with all the melodrama of a wanna be
actress.

"Ta-da!"

For all her faults, I can't help but give credit where credits due - it
is phenomenal.
The mahogany dining table is swathed in a crisp white tablecloth, the
Royal Doulton china shines in all its delicate beauty beneath the
elaborate displays of lilies and maroon coloured candles running
through the centre of the table. I give her a tap on the bottom.

"Oh, George!" But I revel in the colour that rises in her cheeks.

Yep, still got it. Ha! Who are you kidding?

I follow her into the room and let her help me into my seat at the head
of the table. I contribute little to our dinner parties nowadays but
she still sits me in the same place as though I'm the same intelligent,
dry witted man I always was. She dutifully pours me a drink and gives
my arm a squeeze. I give her a lopsided smile.

"The guests should start arriving shortly," she says, her voice echoing
around the empty room. "I do hope no one is overdressed. I did stress
that this was just a small informal gathering."

I watch her fuss with the napkins and pick a wilting petal from one of
the flower arrangements. Everything is just as it should be. She stands
back, hands upon sturdy hips. She gives a huge smile and turns to
me.

"I'm so excited, George." She raises her fingers to her lips. "It's
very naughty to say so, but I really am the hostess with the
mostess!"

I give a chuckle and she places her arms awkwardly around my neck. We
exchange a hug and she takes her seat. To the casual observer, she
looks every bit the lady of the manor she strives so hard to be. But
I'm not that person, I'm her husband of thirty years and the strain and
resentment have slowly begun to reveal their ugly presence in the last
ten of those.

We sit in silence for half an hour as I listen to the tell tale tapping
of her foot against the terracotta floor and watch her fingers clench
and unclenched around her napkin. The seconds tick by as I wait for the
explosion.

One - Two - Three - BANG! She rises sharply from her seat causing the
fake Chippendale chair to clatter to the floor with a crash and she is
on me before I have chance to catch a breath. Her chubby fingers press
into the soft flesh of my neck. Pushing and pushing, harder and harder.
I could cry with relief as the little black dots begin to dance in
front of my eyes. This is it! I'm going to die. This is really
it!

And then she stops.

Nooooo!

She falls to her knees and drops her head into my lap. Her wretched
sobs pull hard at my heart, as it continues to beat of its own free
will. I stroke her hair until the crying subsides and I hear the
habitual intake of breath as she pulls herself together. Slowly, she
rises to her feet and with trembling hands, she smoothes down her
skirt.

"Right," she says, running a hand down the side of my face. "We'll
start without them shall we?"

"Elizabeth?" It comes out like the undeveloped voice of a two year
old.

"I know, George. I know." She takes a napkin from the table and wipes
the saliva running from the corner of my mouth.

* * *

After dinner we wrap up warm and take a moonlit walk around the estate.
I'm tired so she pushes me along in my wheelchair, her own exhaustion
present in every breath. It's a beautiful night. The sky is as black as
ebony but for the whitish hue surrounding a full moon. It reminds me of
the opal that I gave her for her fiftieth birthday.

"Isn't it a lovely night, George?" she asks, pausing beside the
lake.

I lift my hand to cover her fingers that lay on my shoulder. We say
nothing for a few moments, just the two of us lost in thought. My eyes
are drawn to the reflection of the moon in the lake. The icy water
looks so welcoming. I can hear it calling me. Come for a swim George.
It'll be fun!

She clicks on the brakes and walks in front of me.

"I'm going up to the house to get you another blanket," she says,
smiling. "It's such a wonderful night. Why don't we watch the stars for
awhile?"

I tip my hand to my mouth.

"You want a drink?" she peers questioningly into my eyes. "Ooh, why
don't I
open a bottle of Merlot? The doctor said that you can have the odd
glass, now and then."

I smile mischievously.

"After all darling, a stroke is a stroke. You're not dead, are you?"
Her laughter follows her as she walks back to the house.

I count the minutes. She's in the house, she's walking down the hall,
she's in the kitchen?

I push myself up on one arm, and drop onto the dewy grass. The dampness
feels heavenly against my face and I close my eyes.

Come for a swim, George.

I grit my teeth and roll myself over. I hear the splash and then I'm
swimming. I let the water take me lower and lower, it runs into my
ears, my nostrils, my mouth. I don't fight it, but let it enclose me
with its frozen tentacles. I lift my head and a strange, rippling
ceiling is sealed above me. Just before I close my eyes and surrender
to the mysteries of a new beginning, I see my beautiful wife peering
over the edge. She holds a bottle of Merlot and two glasses. But I am
finally at peace as she gives me a dazzling smile and waves
goodbye.

The End