Ex-husband
– Beth! came a painfully familiar mans voice from behind me.
My back stiffened, my head shrank into my shoulders, and, dreading what it might mean, I hurried further along the pavement, hoping hed mistaken me for someone else.
– Beth, stop for a second! I know its you!
I sped up, but a mans handnot cruel, but firmcame to rest on my shoulder.
– Beth, whats with you? Have you gone deaf? Its me, David.
Summoning my courage, I spun round and whispered, barely able to believe my eyes:
– Good heavens, David I thought I was just imagining your voice But how? This cant be happening
– Why not? My ex-husbands grin was every bit as bright as it had been in our youth. Dont I have a right to come back to my hometown?
– Come back from where? I was still baffled. You Well, I was told youd died.
– Died? Davids mouth actually twisted in shock. Me?
– Yes, thats what I was told. About six months after you and I got divorced, and you moved up to Manchester, your friend told me you I hesitated, then forced it out: That you drank yourself to death, passed away alone.
– Who on earth told you that?
– Michael. Your best friend. He started, after you left, hanging around me, making all sorts of advances. But I sent him packing. Thats when he told me about you.
– The scoundrel, David laughed, shaking his head. So he wasnt joking when we last spoke.
– Joking about what?
– Oh, it was silly. He said, Well, youve left Beth, so maybe Ill swoop in. Sounded like a joke, but after that, he never called me again, didnt answer my letterseven though I gave him the number for the first flat I was renting. You know, it was all house phones and letters back then. No mobiles, no social media. I havent a clue where he ended up, or what happened to him.
– Well, hes gone too, I shrugged. Its been five years since his funeral.
– My word David looked truly sombre. Gone. He might still have been here Were still pretty young really, at heart Then he smiled again. You havent changed a bit since our divorce, you know. Still a stunner.
– Oh, dont be ridiculous, I laughed, waving him off. Im just me.
– I heard from some mutual friends you remarried, David was still looking at me as if he couldnt get enough of me, even after all these years. Got kids, too, havent you? Two?
– Thats right, I nodded. Theyre grown up now, off living their own lives. Im a grandmother, twice over, as it happens.
– Blimey! And your husbandhow is he?
– Doing just fine, I smirked. With his new family. Im a free woman now.
– Ah, is that so. David nodded thoughtfully. We men are fools, arent we? Always searching for something, not realising weve already found it, and it was beside us the whole time.
– So what brought you back then? Business, or?
– I came back to stay, Beth. For good. He sighed, almost bitterly. Recently laid my wife to rest I had to come home, truly home. If Im honest, I was suffocating up north. Doctors say the climate doesnt suit me anymore. Getting on a bit, you know. My late wife struggled with it too: asthma. I tried to convince her to leave, but she was a Manchester girl through and through. Couldnt imagine a day away from her city. And so Davids eyes glittered with tears. Now Im wandering the streets where I grew up, trying to decide which neighbourhood I might buy a place in. The citys changed so much in thirty years. Any suggestions for where a man might settle?
– Where are you staying now? I asked.
– In a hotel, where else?
– No relatives to take you in?
– Lord, no, he grimaced. I couldnt do that. People have their own lives and I hate to be a burden, dropping in on them unexpectedly. Never been one for imposing on familyits not right, and its a bit shameful for a man, really.
– Dont suppose youd want to stay at mine? I blurted, instantly startled at my own offer, and hurriedly added, As a lodger, of course.
David looked embarrassed, uncertain, and finally let out a heavy sigh.
– Id like to, Beth, I really would, but I dont think I could handle the guilt.
– What guilt? I raised my eyebrows.
– Well, David shrugged, I left you, didnt I, all those years ago? Ill always carry that.
– Now dont talk daft, I said, giving him a strange smile. I was the one who pushed you away, if were being honest. I said some nasty things that night. Any man would have left.
– Thats not how I remember it, he protested, shaking his head. I only remember what I did wrong.
– And whats that?
– Losing my temper like a fool, packing my bag and slamming the door behind me. Regretted it, of course, but it was too late by then.
– You know, I was almost glad when you left, I laughed. Thought Id start afresh And I did, for a while and then I regretted it, too.
– Really? David looked uncertain, almost hopeful. So youre not angry anymore?
– Of course not. I looked at him, warmth welling up in my heart, almost like it did in our younger days. You know, David, you really havent changed at all. Well, maybe just a bit more grey. Why dont you move in with me? Honestly, Ive got a spare room for you. No sense in eating dreary hotel food, is there? Ex-husband or not, youre still, in a way, family.
– You dont reckon Id be a burden?
– If I did, would I have asked? Besides, it gets awfully lonely in the evenings at mine. Be nice to have someone to talk to for a change.
– If youre sure, then David gently took my hand. Shall we go fetch my suitcase from the hotel?
– You mean the same one you left with all those years ago?
We both burst out laughing at that and strolled along the pavement, feelingfor the first time in yearslike wed never been apart.
