LONELINESS A Deux
Thirty-eight years ago, Alice took her future husband, Peter, to meet her parents. It was time for introductions, time to let them know they planned to get married.
Her mum and dad understood instantly, even before a word was said, the moment the unknown young man crossed their threshold. Before this, Alice had never so much as brought a boyfriend home. She used to say:
Whats the point in introducing them? If I ever decide to get married, youll meet him.
So her parents watched Peter closely as he awkwardly perched at their dining table, clearly out of his depth.
When Alice stepped out, her father followed her.
Youre making a mistake, love. You shouldnt marry him.
Why not? Alice bristled, suddenly defensive. Because he works on tractors?
Its not just that. Not that it doesnt matter, mind. Its just he might be a good bloke, but youre completely different people. What will you talk about? You grew up in a military family, university-educated. And Peter? Hes a country lad, hard-working, Ill grant you, but simple. That much is plain. If you stay with him, therell always be one word that keeps you apart: intellect.
Oh, Dad, dont be daft. Thats just prejudice. I dont care what he does. He loves me. And its never too late to learn. Ill help him, Alice shot back, certain she was right.
Well, its your life. But remember what they say: A child who ignores their parents advice will wander lost. Just dont say I didnt warn you
The wedding went ahead. After the sugar and roses wore off, real married life began.
Peter, after much nagging, enrolled in college classes by correspondence, but never touched the assignments. Alice did the work for him, buried herself in technical manuals she found dull as ditchwater. Peter went to a couple of sessions, then gave up entirely, declaring:
What do I need this rubbish for? If you want it, you study.
She tried to change his mind, but it was pointless. Peter thought he already knew enough and wouldnt waste a moment on that nonsense.
Do as you please, Alice sighed in resignation, dropping the subject of his studies.
She tried to console herself, thinking Peter wasnt stupid, really. Hed read every book in her library, kept up with the news and politics, and was respected at work. True, you could smell the countryside on him a mile off, but never mind that. Shed fallen for him as he was, after all.
As the years passed, things with Peter grew more complicated. He stopped listening to her opinions and often tried to belittle her, needing always to prove who was boss. Hed make strong statements in front of others, things Alice considered deeply private, broadcasting them with such overconfidence that shed cringe in embarrassment.
He never seemed capable of making a tough decision. Every family issue landed on Alices shoulders. He took that as his due:
You want the living room redecorated? Do it yourself.
Need a new fridge? Go buy one.
Want the balcony enclosed? Hows that my problem? Its your idea, you sort it!
The only thing he managed with any enthusiasm was the garden. Peter loved working the allotment, and to be fair, he was good at it. But what of it? The growing seasons only a few months out of the year. The rest of the time, Alice was playing both wife and husband.
When she was younger, she paid little mind. As the years wore her down, the weight became too much, but Peter, set in his ways, had no reason to change. Why should he? Everything suited him fine as it was. Not once in all their years together had he brought Alice so much as a daffodil for Mothers Day. As for gifts, Peter declared in all seriousness one day:
Havent I already given you the best gifts? Look those two running about the house.
By which he meant their daughters.
Alice never argued or tried to justify herself. She decided to just accept it. She even made excuses for him: Hes not used to giving gifts, they dont do that in his family. I’ll survive.
Peter was lousy at conversation and made no secret he wasnt interested in mingling. Early on, Alices friends actually asked if her new husband could talk at all. Shed just laugh it off.
It drove him mad that his wife got on with everyone, always cheerful and chatty. He spoke badly of all her friends, dismissed her relatives, but never made friends himself.
Not only did Alice sort out every problem they faced, she also made good money and never depended on Peter financially. Even when things got tough, she managed to scrape by with extra work, knowing Peter would never make the effort. If you need more, you earn it, hed say. As long as he went to work, that was enough for him.
Over time it became painfully clear: Alice had nothing left to say to Peter. They saw every event from opposite sides. If she liked a film, hed call it rubbish. She couldnt stand what he watched for more than ten minutes. Their taste in books and music was poles apart.
Their natures clashed, too: she was an altruist, willing to do anything for him, the kids, their friends. He was a dyed-in-the-wool egotist, obsessed with himself. So, after all these years, they ate different meals, had no common interests, love had faded, the children were gone, and after thirty-odd years under one roof they were basically strangers. Together, yet alone.
Peter, for his part, thought Alice had grown cheeky, didnt value or respect him. It didnt matter how much she shouldered, he thought it her obligation.
So, when his mood soured, hed drink, then let loose, laying into her about her late parents, her side of the family. Picking apart everything she did or said, criticising in the harshest terms. He got a perverse pleasure from it like some lord chastising his maid.
When he sobered up, he couldnt understand why Alice barely spoke to him.
I was just speaking the truth!
But it was only his truth. He couldnt see, hear, or accept any other.
Now Alice sat at my table, tears streaming down her face.
Im exhausted My lifes like sitting on a keg of gunpowder, always waiting for it to blow. Im sick of meeting him halfway, of always bending, of bearing it all. But whats the point of leaving? Hed never go hed stay just to torment me. The worst bit is, hes certain hes right. His outbursts leave me ill for weeks, picking myself up piece by piece. But its still a family, theres the kids, and now grandchildren. I find whatever I can to keep going. I try, really try, to keep things civil, smooth over the rough patches. He must see that as some sort of win, because then it all starts again.
Im so tired it makes me want to scream But where would I go? Of course, I could leave, but what then? When he drinks, he loses all reason. If Im gone, every sozzled lout from the pub would turn up here, trashing everything Weve been through that before.
So, I hang on I cant just abandon my own home to fate.
You know, when the girls were little, our differences didnt seem so glaring, didnt drag me down. No time for thinking, no chance to dwell.
Now, just the two of us, its unbearable. Two strangers, under one roof even after thirty-eight years
My father was right, all those years ago. Intellect It always stands between us.
