A LUCKY MAN (PART TWO).

It’s a short walk down through the restaurant to the counter where I order two fresh Cappuccino’s and offer to wait while they are prepared. Looking back up the dining room to where Mike is sat with his back to me, I ponder on what he has just said over the last few minutes.

Instinct alone tells me he is right, that it’s up to me to take control now of my own life and that that has been the situation for almost the last three years. But I haven’t wanted to see it because, I think, I inwardly view it as saying goodbye to Elaine and the life we knew together, goodbye to the ‘what was’ that I know so well and love so much.

Mike has made me realize how lucky I have been and continue to be, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I know it can only do me good but there is a strong pull and a comfort in staying put where I believe Elaine to be, even if it means ultimately I suffer for it.

I know in my heart that it is wrong to tie the hands of the future with the cords of the past, but I never would before have contemplated how difficult it was going to be to have the faith in life to cast those cords aside.

 The ‘Leap of Faith’ will be stepping forwards and believing that somehow I can carry Elaine with me, or at least enough of her in memory to assure myself that she will always be there in my life and heart, and not forgotten.

Some more customers’ edge through the door, the place is getting busy and I cast an unusually interested eye over those around me. A cross section of people, of life I suppose, all on different paths and byways dragging their heels to the same unavoidable destination. It pushes into my thoughts that it is not actually the destination that matters so much but the journey to it, it’s what you do with your time along that road that really counts; not everyone believes in a spiritual terminus anyway and with no proof one way or another ……

Right now I am aware that I stopped walking a while back and have been treading ground ever since, but time is still moving forwards heedless of my immobility, mocking me in its tireless velocity.

“Two Cappuccino’s?” The words are smiled across the counter at me, and taking the cups with their hot frothy contents and voicing my thanks I turn and negotiate a path back through my fellow journeymen to my friend, who sits oblivious to any journey right now other than the one that brought us here.

We seem to know instinctively, as good friends do, when a subject is closed- at least for the time being- so over our coffee we decide where to shop first and what, if anything, we are looking to buy. Then we leave the warm confines and welcome of the restaurant and plunge forth into the all-embracing cold and hustle of the city.

Salisbury is not a very large city but it punches far above its weight with its historic architecture, especially the world famous cathedral at its heart with its four hundred and four foot spire, giving God a physical platform to stand and watch over this small area of his creation.

My sister Sue is very much in mind as we start out. Salisbury was her home for the last twenty-five years of her life. She worked for many of them just a few minutes’ walk from where we stand; she loved it here and I always feel close to her whenever I visit.

It’s crowded this morning with the usual suspects franticly Christmas shopping, but it will be quite fun and distracting to become part of it all, at least for a while. I love Christmas as did Sue. We were blessed as children. Both our parents came from relatively poor backgrounds where there was no spare money for presents etc even once a year, but as adults they made up for this through us.

We enjoyed magical Christmas’s as we grew-up and though mum and dad themselves had little spare cash for indulgences Sue and I wanted for little or nothing come December 25^th. It instilled in us both a love for this time of year that even the death of my wife, so close by, cannot extinguish it.

I’m glad of this, as Elaine too loved Christmas even though her family did not celebrate it. In our later years together she strove to make Christmas as special for me as it had been in my childhood. I had to explain that she would never achieve it as it was what it was then, and this was now. Our Christmas’s together were special enough, there was no need or point in attempting to emulate a lost past. Another lesson for me today maybe.

Mike and I brace ourselves, then become absorbed into the seasonal ‘scrum’, dodging from shop to shop and back again until later we find ourselves heading for the Fisherton Mill gallery and café.

A few minutes’ walk from the centre of town Fisherton Mill gallery and café is just what the title suggests. Housed in a converted mill building and stretching over two floors all types of artisan work is here to view and buy, plus an excellent café area is on the ground floor.

As we enter Mike spies an empty table close by, “Fancy another coffee and cake maybe?” I need little inducing so it’s coats off and we settle down into the scene around us.

We order our drinks, and yes cake too (just because Elaine would expect it of course) then as we are waiting a voice to my side breaks into our idle chatter.

“It’s Mark isn’t it?”

I look up. A tall, lean be-spectacled man is beside me. “Pete, hello how are you?”

“Fine thanks, we thought it was you Greg’s here with me, over there”. He points across the room where the seated figure of his son raises a hand and a smile.

I met Pete, wife Isabelle and their family some two years ago, when on a recommendation from friend Penny I went to do some work at their home in Wimborne. I am honoured to think of them as friends now and introduce Pete to Mike. We talk casually for a while then I go over with Pete to say hello to Greg and wish him Happy Christmas.

Walking back, I’m reminded of the times that Elaine and I came here together, then it occurs that she never knew or heard of Pete, Isabelle and Greg, I never got to tell her about them, they are an aspect of my life in which she plays no part. This has been the situation for almost three years and I’m fully aware that deep within I don’t wish to acknowledge it.

Re-taking my seat opposite Mike I see the coffee and cake have arrived in my absence. He is finishing his first bite as I sit, “You looked miles away then as you came back”.

“Did I? Was just thinking really”, and I tell him my thoughts as I pour most of the contents of a cafetiere into the waiting mug.

Mike sips gingerly at the steaming flat white he has picked up as I talk, then re-unites the cup with its saucer looking across to me as he does so.

“I’m afraid that’s always going to be the case from now on mate all that you do cannot directly involve Elaine, only perhaps the memory of her and you can’t alter that nothing can. Brutal to say it Mark but she’s dead to this world that we’re still in-that you’re still in- and whether you eat that cake or not” he glances down, “she is still going to be dead, you have to accept the fact or break on its rocks, and forgive me, but she wouldn’t want you to break especially not for her sake”.

“I know” is my somewhat hollow reply, “I know”, and for a moment I stare sightless across his shoulder into the room, briefly wishing inwardly that I was Scrooge and could go back in time to witness my memories alive again with the ghost of Christmas Past.

We eat and drink in silence for a while then Mike breaks into my visionless contemplation with a new question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Fire away brother.”

“If Marilyn hadn’t been there do you think by now you’d be on the lookout for someone else, a new partner to be with I mean, rather than being on your own still?”

I ponder his question for a moment or two, it’s an interesting one that I must admit has crossed my mind on more than one occasion. Eventually I form an honest answer.

“I don’t think so, not actively at least, it’s not really me dating sites and stuff like that, isn’t that how people meet these days? Anyway I was too raw for a long time and Mar’ was there, right from the start.”

Mike catches something in my reply and field’s it back to me.

“So, is it just because she happened along from the start that you stick with Marilyn now, because her presence in your life has been propping you up in the face of losing Elaine, and, if you come to terms enough with that loss will you no longer need Marilyn and want to move on?”

“Fuck me, Mike, have you got a crystal ball hidden away somewhere cos’ I’ve long ago given up on trying to guess what’s in the future. Strange you should ask though because Marilyn has voiced similar concerns several times. I know she’s afraid that having gotten this close I may want to bow out and she’ll be hurt and on her own again.”

“It can’t be easy for her Mark, Elaine is a hell of an act to have to follow and she’s bound to fear the comparison.”

“I know. The first time she visited back home with me she sat on the settee looking very uneasy. I asked her what the matter was, and she replied that she was aware this was Elaine’s home and that she was a strong woman. I knew then the comparison was in her mind and that she was thinking that it would always be in mine.”

“And is it?”

“Honest answer? No, I can assure you that I don’t, and never have, weighted Marilyn against Elaine or vice-versa it never has occurred to me to do so Mike. To me they are totally unique people. There are similarities of course, likes and dislikes etc, but I fell in love with Elaine for who she was- who she still is to me I guess- and Marilyn I love for her own sake there’s something special about her, I think I’ve always known that and it has a chance to be recognised now and I’m certain I don’t want to fuck it all up between us by making Mar’ feel like she’s always going to be the second prize in a two prize raffle.”

Mike smiles across the table at me, he knows me well enough to know my answer is from the heart and voiced as honestly as I can put it; he speaks again whilst toying with his now near empty cup.

“Well my friend to my mind there has to be a measure of give and take on both sides for this relationship to work.”

I want to hear what he has to say and encourage him to continue, “Go on.”

“Neither you nor Mar’ are spring chickens Mark, you’ve both had the majority of your lives and spent that time with other people so I reckon you must make the most of the chance you have now with each other. You’ve been friends for a long time which stands you both in good stead for this to work out now but you Mark have got to learn to loosen your grip on the past, Elaine will always be there no matter what- or who- comes into your life from now on, you’ll never lose her, but as I said earlier on your life cannot directly involve her in the first instant any longer. Marilyn has to be number one in this world from now on or you risk her always fearing that comparison with a dead wife.

 “In dying Elaine pulled the trump card, her position is unassailable in your heart but if you truly want this to work with Mar’ you have to make room for her too. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt, I’m sure Mark, and her feelings, I’m sure, too are genuine, or there’s no reason for her to have stayed around as she has.”

I know he’s right, I’ve been far from the easiest person to be close to these last three years but Mar has stayed the course all the way. Again my friend has made me see how fortunate I continue to be.

He takes my silence as his cue to carry on.

“It’s a two-way street though mate, Marilyn has to accept that your love for Elaine will always be there though it’s up to you not to let it come between you and her. She may not feel she’s big enough in your eyes to fill Elaine’s boots, only you can assure her that her boots are the only ones that count from now on.”

I can’t help but laugh at this last comment- both Mar’ and Elaine love(d) boots.

Smiling at his wisdom I reach for the last piece of cake on my plate, “You know Mike, Elaine used to joke as to which of her friends I’d end up with after she’d gone.”

“Well she got it partially right, it just looks to be one of your friends instead of hers… sorry, maybe that came out a bit clumsy.”

“Not at all, but remember it was Elaine who asked me to contact Mar’ shortly before she died and I can’t help wondering……”

“Mark you’ll never know for certain what was in her mind, but any guess you make will probably be closer to the truth than anyone else’s.”

We fall silent for a while and as I look around I see a lot of fellow shoppers have come in since we arrived. Seeing we’ve finished our refreshments some are hovering close by hoping to grab the table when we leave.

What would they make of our conversation had they been a-party to it? Would they cheer me on with words of encouragement? “Forwards into life, don’t look back” (at least not too often!).

Would they tell me to forget the love that has been, lest it destroy the new and drag me down?

Would they recommend a hair shirt and a darkened cell and hope on an eternity that none can prove exists?

If we took a poll would they vote from their hearts or from their heads; or would they not care unless they too stood where I do?

It makes me realise all the more that I must choose my own road.

If I fuck-up then so be it, at least it was my choice and I think I can possibly live with that. But if I fuck-up taking someone else’s advice that went against my own thinking and instinct then that’s a double blank and would, I reckon, be very very difficult to live alongside of.

Mike breaks into my thoughts, “Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s see what’s on offer.”

We gather up coats and bags and vacate our temporary haven as others, gratefully smiling, reach to move in.

For the time being I know our converse on this subject has closed, but something tells me that it will open again before this day is over.

To be continued…..