Day Twenty-One (Sunday)
It was Sunday morning, and Edward woke early, shortly after seven. Jill was still asleep beside him. Beti hadn’t come to disturb them yet. She was in her basket in the kitchen. Edward lay awake thinking. He was suddenly struck by the enormity of what had happened the previous night. Had it really taken place, or had he simply imagined it? He had memories of he and Jill making love. He realised he was still naked, and Jill was naked alongside. So, it had happened. There was no denying it. They had been intimate together. They had consummated their friendship, so it was no longer simply friendship. It was now something more than that. Like it or not, Edward was in a relationship, and not with his wife. He was in a relationship with someone else. He was in a relationship with Jill. Jill was now his girlfriend or his partner. He could call it what he wanted, but it made no real difference. The facts were evident. They’d taken things to another stage; one he’d never really anticipated. Even after he’d moved into her house and started work in the bookshop, he’d kidded himself they were just friends. He was a married man after all. He’d denied his true feelings. There was a line he’d never cross, he thought. Except he had crossed it. They’d crossed it together, and there was no returning to how things were.
Edward could no longer pretend things hadn’t changed. Everything had changed, finally and forever. He understood there was no going back, neither literally nor metaphorically. Things had fundamentally altered. The dynamics of his life and relationships had inexorably shifted. Things could never be the same again. In an instant, he understood the decision he’d been putting off, the one for some reason he’d refused to make, had now been made for him. That was it. Everything was now decided. His mind wouldn’t be changed. He’d remain here in Swansea with Jill. He wouldn’t be returning to Oxford anytime soon. He wouldn’t be heading back, to reunite with Alice, in a matter of weeks or even months. That wouldn’t happen. He’d stay where he was for the foreseeable future, perhaps now for years or even forever. It was as good as over with Alice. Jill was now his new partner. He’d reside with her permanently or for as long as she wanted him to.
It made perfect sense to him now. He realised it was what he’d wanted all along but had been too scared to admit. He’d liked Jill from day one and perhaps she’d liked him too. He’d been in denial. Perhaps because he was married, she’d been in denial also. They were no longer in denial. It was out in the open. The cards were on the table. Passions had been aroused. Intimacy had taken place. There was no longer room in Edward’s life for Alice. She’d been unfaithful to him with Paul. She’d chosen to wreck their marriage. Edward considered he’d always been a good husband to her, or an adequate one at least. She’d never gone without. She’d never wanted for anything. She’d repaid his generosity and decency by having an affair.
That wasn’t gratitude, as far as Edward was concerned. He’d given her a lavish home and a very comfortable lifestyle; one she’d never have enjoyed otherwise. She’d chosen to throw it in his face and humiliate him. It was true she was a very glamorous and attractive woman but looks didn’t mean everything. At the end of the day, they counted for little or nothing. What he had, with a decent, honest person like Jill, meant so much more to him. The last few weeks had taught him he didn’t actually need the grand life he’d enjoyed back in Oxford. He was better suited to a simple, more mundane existence. Now he’d found that, he had no intention of letting it go. He had no intention of letting Jill go either. He hoped Alice would be understanding of that and happy with her own choice in Paul. Edward wished her no harm. Now he’d found happiness, he only hoped for the best for her too.
Edward was a kind and honourable man. He was determined to still do the right thing by Alice. He’d make all the necessary arrangements, to ensure her financial security and future were looked after. He’d allow her to remain in the house. She could stay there for the duration of her lifetime, until it eventually passed to Victoria and Henry to share the proceeds equally between them. Edward and Alice had never had children together, even if Edward had wanted to add to his brood. He’d give her a fair and considerate divorce settlement, such that she’d have no reason to try and drag him through the courts to get more. He’d save them both that particular embarrassment. Once he’d collected the things he needed, he’d rarely return to Oxford. He’d begin a new life here in South Wales. He’d invite Victoria and Henry to stay whenever they wanted. He’d slowly pass on more of his considerable wealth to them, his daughter and son. It might enable Victoria to work a little less hard and Henry to eventually settle down.
Edward resolved to ring Alice in the week, to tell her what he’d decided. He’d make his announcement over the phone. He’d inform her of the decision he’d finally reached. He hoped she’d accept it. He imagined she would. It would be better if it fitted in with her plans too, and she was as content to be with Paul, as Edward was to be with Jill. When he’d made his indecently hurried exit from Oxford, he’d have earnestly wished for nothing more than to learn Alice’s relationship with Paul had hit the buffers or was on the rocks. Now, he hoped for the opposite. He trusted it hadn’t cooled since Edward’s hasty departure. It was better for all concerned if they both had new partners that they were happy with.
Edward was no longer jealous. Naturally, he had been at first, at the thought of another man with his wife. He’d now got over that. He had Jill. What Alice did with Paul was her business. He didn’t really want to know, even if he eventually returned to collect his things to find Paul living in the big house. It wouldn’t have surprised Edward. In fact, it would have been entirely natural. Why would they wish to live elsewhere? It was one of the best residences in the area. Who wouldn’t have taken it with open arms given the opportunity?
Of course, Edward knew a phone call alone wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to return at some point, to face Alice in the flesh and thrash out all the fine details person to person. Now, it was Edward hoping there wouldn’t be a scene. He knew he didn’t have to tell her about Jill, but not to do so would be dishonest. Alice had told him about Paul. Edward would do the same. He had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. He’d gone away because of his wife’s infidelity, where he’d happened to meet someone else. That was the long and short of it. Nothing was planned. He hadn’t gone away with that on his mind, far from it. If anything, the opposite was true. Edward had planned to spend the time alone. By chance, he’d met someone else, who he happened to get on with.
When Jill eventually woke up, they made love again. This time Edward took the opportunity to explore her body much more fully than the first time and she his in return. He could no longer argue it had been a one-off or a mistake or an accident. It had gone beyond that. It had been none of those things. It had been a very deliberate act on both of their parts. It had been a calculated expression of their growing affection. They wished to be intimate and be together. Edward was determined nothing would part them now. Jill felt the same. Their union had been confirmed both physically and emotionally. It was funny, Edward reflected. In many ways, Jill wasn’t his usual type. It just showed true love didn’t have types. Such ideas were outdated. Jill was now his type by default, or perhaps he simply no longer had a type. He only knew what he liked, and that person seemed to like him back. Maybe his type had just changed, and he hadn’t realised that fact. One thing was certain. His type, if he still had one, was now Jill not Alice.
As Jill set about preparing breakfast, Edward went out to buy Sunday papers. He took Beti with him. The dog had remained remarkably well behaved, as Edward had frolicked with her mistress. Of course, Edward didn’t like to think of it like that. That made it sound improper and indecent. Edward like to think of sex as a correct and natural expression of his love. He’d never indulged in it casually. It had always had to mean something, with someone he had serious intentions towards. Anything less was unacceptable to him and seemed a trifle sordid. His intentions towards Jill were entirely honourable. He could envisage marriage in the fullness of time if Jill wanted that formality. Somehow, he suspected she wouldn’t be bothered with a piece of paper and that just being together would be commitment enough for her. He was content to be guided by her in that department. After breakfast, they sat at the kitchen table, discussing possible plans for the day. Only a week earlier, Edward had been moving his things in. That had been on a Sunday. A lot had happened in the week since. It almost shocked him to think about it, but in a good way. He was very happy how things had worked out.
‘I know a nice little vegan café in The Mumbles which is open on a Sunday. How about I take you there? We can go in my car if you like,’ Jill suggested.
‘It might make a pleasant change from walking or taking the bus,’ Edward agreed, realising it would be the first time he’d driven with Jill.
‘We can stop at Clyne Gardens, to walk off our lunch, on the way back,’ she continued.
‘I used to go to Clyne Gardens on a Sunday sometimes with my first wife, Angela. It will be quite nostalgic and poignant for me to do the same with you,’ Edward said.
‘Sounds like that’s decided then,’ Jill announced. ‘We’ll bring Beti with us. I think they take dogs in the café. If not, we can always sit outside.’
Edward put down the newspaper he was reading, The Observer, and went to have a shower and get ready. As he was getting dressed, he made a mental note to take his new camera with him. He could take some pictures of views of both Mumbles and Clyne Gardens, in the late spring, early summer sunshine. The weather had turned pleasanter towards the end of the week. It had been quite wet the previous weekend and at the start of the week. It hadn’t rained now for several days, even if Edward had spent most of his time working inside in the bookshop and out of the sun. It looked like the fine weather would continue for a few more days at least. It was up to Edward and Jill to make the most of it. Edward fully intended to do that, although it would be back to work for the pair of them the following day. They could always finish early again and do something afterwards if the mood took them. Business wasn’t exactly thriving that it would matter all that much.
They went out shortly after eleven. Jill led Edward to where her car was parked. It was a small, blue Fiat. It had a slight dent down one side. Edward resolved to get it fixed for her. Perhaps it would be easier just to buy her a new car, however. He still had one back in Oxford, which was bigger and newer. She could just have that. He might collect it when he finally returned. Jill’s car was a little messy on the inside, for Edward’s personal taste. Whilst she’d tidied the house in readiness for his arrival, she’d clearly forgotten to tidy the car. As they got in, she muttered some apology about its state, promising to sort it soon.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll clean it for you tomorrow, if you let me,’ Edward said. ‘I’ll give it a full valet. It will be as good as new,’ Edward promised.
‘You can if you want to, but you really don’t have to,’ Jill responded, happily.
Edward did want to. It went against his natural sense of order, to allow it to remain in the state it was in, although it would do for now. He was slowly learning to be more relaxed about such things. It wouldn’t have done for Alice, it amused Edward to think. She’d have refused to get in. It might have spoiled an expensive, designer dress she was wearing. That would never have done. She’d have insisted on ordering a taxi instead or perhaps a limousine.
As Jill drove, Edward enjoyed the familiar views of Swansea Bay. He could tell Jill wasn’t a natural driver and didn’t drive all that often. A couple of times she slipped gear and she stalled once at traffic lights. It didn’t matter. Edward was content just to be driven by her, as they passed all the sights and landmarks he knew so well. They’d come back vividly to the forefront of his mind since his return to the city of his degree. His memory had been jogged. Each one was now engrained there, as if he’d never been away – St Helen’s Rugby and Cricket Ground, Swansea University campus, Singleton Park Boating Lake, Blackpill Lido, West Cross and finally The Mumbles itself.
Jill found somewhere to park. They then proceeded to the café she recommended. She’d only been once before, but she said it was nice. Edward was happy to be guided by her. He couldn’t quite believe that in a week he’d gone from eating sausage and bacon to practically being a vegan. Even after moving in, he’d initially continued to eat eggs and dairy products. Now, he was barely doing that. It was easier just to eat whatever Jill had, for convenience if nothing else. He’d made no conscious decision to become a vegan. It was just simpler to eat the same things. It was also partly out of respect for Jill’s principles, he realised. He had no wish to offend her. He liked animals himself. Perhaps it was time he stopped eating them. Edward had a feeling that whilst he’d steadfastly maintain he was still a carnivore and no vegetarian or vegan or anything like it, in reality he would be as good as one. He’d be a vegan in everything but name. Remarkably, the thought didn’t actually bother him too much.
When Edward arrived in Swansea, the thought of giving up meat and cheese would have been abhorrent to him. It no longer felt like a consideration or a sacrifice even, as he’d just eat whatever Jill ate and drink the same too. As it happened, what she ate was plant-based, so by default he’d be a plant-based eater also. It wasn’t as hard as he expected. In fact, it felt entirely natural to him, just as making love to her the previous night and in the morning had felt.
The café was in a road parallel to the main Mumbles shopping street. It wasn’t one Edward knew well. It was unlikely he’d have been passed it by accident. He’d have needed to know it was there and consciously sought it out. They found a table to sit at. Beti was so well behaved no one seemed to notice her presence. She sat quietly under the table, whilst Edward and Jill perused the menu. Edward ordered deep-fried tofu, whilst Jill ordered one of their health bowls, packed with nutritious vegetable and salad goodies.
‘At least, you’ll have room for a cake afterwards,’ Edward remarked. ‘They look delicious.’
They did indeed, and Edward liked a cake. He’d certainly make sure he had room for one himself and he’d try and persuade Jill to have one at the same time. After they finished eating, they did the customary Mumbles walk down to the pier and lighthouse. They did it at a leisurely pace. Edward took the opportunity to try out his new camera, pausing occasionally to take a couple of photographs. The bay cycle path was busy with other Sunday afternoon strollers and cyclists. Edward and Jill held hands as they walked. They felt very happy in each other’s company. Oxford and thoughts of Alice now felt worlds away. Edward was no longer concerned what she might or might not be doing with Paul. It didn’t matter to him anymore. He had what he wanted right there in front of him. Alice was his past. Jill was his future. He knew that now. He’d always known it in fact since he first met Jill. That was why things had progressed as they had. That was why he’d gone back to the shop after his first visit. That was why he’d offered to take her dog, Beti, for walks. That was why he’d agreed to move out of the guesthouse and in with her. That was why he’d taken a job in the bookshop. It all fitted neatly into its proper place in the scheme of things. He’d done it all for a reason, so they could be together, even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He knew it now. It made perfect, logical sense to him.
When they returned to the car, they continued their journey back round the bay, stopping off at Clyne Gardens roughly halfway along Mumbles Road. There was a car park signposted for Clyne Valley Country Park, where they pulled in and parked. They just had a short distance to walk back, past the pub where the week before Edward and Beti had enjoyed lunch, to reach the gardens. Edward had still been a meat eater then. He couldn’t really say that anymore. Jill had accidentally converted him, or maybe it had been deliberate on her part. Maybe she’d had everything planned all along. Women could be quite devious like that. Maybe one day she’d tell him how clever and calculating she’d been. Edward didn’t mind if that was the case. He’d been a more than willing co-conspirator in their mutual game. He’d been very happy to go along with it at every stage. It had been his choice too, and his choice was turning out to be a good one. He was confident he’d finally made the right decision.
They took the same route through Clyne Gardens as Edward had alone with Beti, following the watercourse up through the ornamental and bog gardens, until they eventually reached the Japanese Bridge, where Edward stopped to take pictures. Jill didn’t remark on his new camera. Now she was aware of his considerable wealth, nothing he had with him or purchased would surprise her. They proceeded back through the Bluebell Wood and Heather Beds, as Edward had the week before, until they reached the Italian Bridge and Clyne Castle, where they stopped on a bench to admire the view. Jill cuddled into Edward’s shoulder. He placed his arm round her, pulling her body closely to him. Beti sat obediently at their feet. Jill turned to kiss Edward on the cheek.
‘It’s lovely here,’ she said. ‘We should come again.’
‘We must,’ Edward agreed. ‘We can come as often as you like, through all the changing seasons.’
They sat for a while, happy just to enjoy the warmth of the sunshine and gentle, cooling, sea breeze on their skin. The combined distance of their two walks was several miles, Edward estimated. Their legs felt pleasantly weary, but they weren’t exhausted. They let some time pass, until they felt sufficiently revived to continue their way down the sloping grass lawns and flower beds towards where they’d started out. At the bottom of the estate, they passed a mobile coffee van, where Edward bought himself and Jill an ice lolly each. The chill of the frozen fruit juice made their tongues tingle. It was a pleasingly invigorating experience, a small pleasure to be savoured, before slowly making their way back to the car.
Jill found a space near the bookshop to park. It was late afternoon, but it still felt warm. It could be June or July not late May. It felt like the height of summer. Edward had been away for exactly three weeks. In that time, he’d done many things and visited many places that were intricately tied to his past and his youth, his days as a student, and his early life with Angela. Every day had brought something new to delight and excite him. He’d experienced fine days and wet ones. He’d reacquainted himself with the attractions Swansea had to offer, the museums and galleries, the parks and gardens, the shops, cafés and restaurants, the historic landmarks, the famous market. Many he’d come to take for granted forty years ago as an undergraduate. Familiarity hadn’t exactly bred contempt but perhaps a sense of complacency on Edward’s part. Now he approached everything again with fresh eyes and a new perspective, a new appreciation. He’d known the Swansea of forty years ago. Now he knew the Swansea of the modern day, a more multicultural, metropolitan city. It no longer had the feeling of a provincial town. It was an urban conurbation and would only continue growing and developing.
As good as it had been to revisit his memories of Swansea and familiarise himself with the city in the twenty-first century, it was the people he’d met along the way who’d really made his visit. He’d come on his own but hadn’t felt alone. He’d been made to feel welcome everywhere he went. Friendship had been warmly extended to him, by Alan and Gwen at the guesthouse and by Meredith at the coffee shop, and most of all of course by Jill at the bookshop, who was now his new life partner, although they were yet to put an exact label on what they were to each other. Edward hadn’t expected any of that. He’d fully anticipated spending his entire time away by himself, deep in his own thoughts, in his own little bubble of quiet reflection and contemplation, wondering what to do about Alice. In the event, he hadn’t had to find an answer. An answer had duly become apparent. He’d just continued to happily muddle along, until a clear way forward had presented itself. Eventually it had.
When they got in, they sat down quietly in the lounge and shared a refreshing pot of tea together. Whilst Jill watched television and stroked Beti’s thick coat, Edward retired to the peace of his bedroom for a little bit. He sat at his desk and opened his sketchbook. He began a new drawing. He realised he was drawing the small stretch of Swansea Bay that continued from Mumbles Beach to Mumbles Pier. He was doing it more or less from memory. It was a view he’d stared at many times over recent weeks. It remained engrained in recollections from the distant past, that his stay in Swansea had gently revived and brought back. He’d taken a few photographs earlier that day, to help jog his memory too. Gradually, the picture started to take form and shape, as he gave it more detail. He included a minute couple, walking a dog along the cycle path, as well as other tiny people. It was of course himself, Beti and Jill. They were so small, as to be barely visible. It didn’t matter. Edward knew who they were. Once he’d finished the outline, Edward sat back to admire his handiwork.
He then put down his sketchbook and opened his notebook. He jotted down a few thoughts and observations from the day’s walk along Mumbles seafront. He tried to express what he’d seen in words, the café-bars and restaurants, the ice-cream parlours, pier, amusement arcade, beach, sand, cyclists, dogs, walkers, locals, and holidaymakers, all merged together, walking en masse either in one direction or the opposite one. Some had been heading to the end. Others were on their way back, having already reached it. It was both a relaxed scene and a hectic one at the same time. It was a mix of contrasts, as perhaps the whole of Wales was itself, of urbanisation and stunning countryside.
Life too was a mix of contrasts, of ups and downs, Edward reflected. He’d had a happy childhood and adolescence in the Home Counties. He’d spent his formative years in Swansea, where he’d met Angela and formed his first serious relationship. He’d returned to Oxford, where Angela had launched a successful career in accountancy. Edward had commuted into London, where he’d become a high-flying financier and investment banker. For a while, everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. He’d become rich and it had enabled them to buy a big house in a village just outside Oxford. Eventually, they’d had children, a girl and a boy, Victoria and Henry. Happiness for the family hadn’t lasted. Their world had fallen apart at Angela’s cancer diagnosis and eventual premature death at only forty-five. Edward had been left to bring up his teenage children alone. He hadn’t done a bad job. Eventually, he’d met Alice and in time they’d got married. Now he realised she’d been little more than a trophy wife. They’d been content for a while, until shortly after retirement he’d lost her to a younger man. Now, he in turn had found happiness again with Jill.
In truth, he’d had more ups than downs in his life. Angela’s death had been the hardest to thing for him to deal with and recover from. Eventually, he had, although a small part of him had never quite come to terms with her death. At least he had twenty-five years or more of precious memories of them being together to look back on. He also had two offspring to remind him of her. He was determined he would see more of Victoria and Henry in the future. He’d do whatever it took to achieve that aim. He knew Jill would be welcoming, just as he would be with her daughter, Megan. He was happy to move on from Alice, with no hard feelings. He wished her only happiness in her life with Paul. A small part of him was happy for her. It made it easier for him to start afresh with Jill, with no sense of guilt or regret.
Edward jotted down some more thoughts. phrases and reflections in his notebook. They were beginning to form loose poems. A thought occurred to him. He could use the words to illustrate his drawings. It could make a little book in time. Some lines were short, some were long. One simply read: The tide comes in. It was coming in now for him, in a good way, he thought. This was what Sunday afternoons in retirement were about, he considered. It was as he’d always imagined them during his last few working years. Of course, technically he was no longer retired. He had a bookshop to run and manage. He’d continue to do so, whilst it amused him to and whilst Jill wanted to keep it going. He’d try to make it a success perhaps for a year or two, just to realise some of the potential he genuinely believed it had. Once Jill was satisfied that they’d taken it as far as they could, they’d close the shop and turn it into another room or even two perhaps. After that, they’d hopefully live out their retirement years happily together.
Edward had a feeling they wouldn’t even bother to move, even though he could have bought a much bigger house for them. They were perfectly content where they were. It was near the shops, and it suited their modest needs. Perhaps in time, they’d look at that house in West Cross or Mumbles, overlooking the bay, he’d always dreamed of, but only if Jill wanted that too. He wouldn’t press her if she preferred to remain in their present home.
Edward put down his pens and paper. He was already looking forward to a quiet evening in front of the television with Jill, probably with a glass of wine. His time away had been very good to him. Only three weeks earlier he’d set out in a hurry from Oxford, with no idea what the future held in store. Somehow, it had all worked out well. After many years away, he’d finally returned to Swansea and fallen in love with the city all over again. He knew he’d probably remain there now for the rest of his lifetime. Not only had he renewed his love affair with the city, by chance he’d also met and fallen in love with a new woman in his life.
Edward knew Angela would have approved of what he was doing and the fact that he was staying in Swansea with Jill. She’d have been happy with the decision he’d finally reached. He felt certain she’d have been pleased for him. Edward had always suspected she wouldn’t have liked Alice too much. Angela would have found her a little cold and aloof. That wasn’t the case with Jill, who was the exact opposite in temperament. Edward felt he and Jill were ideally suited.
Just then Edward’s phone beeped. He looked at the screen. It wasn’t Alice as he feared. Perhaps she’d given up trying to contact him. It was a text from Jill. It read simply: I love you and thank you. Edward typed Thank you and I love you too, and pressed send. He hoped if Angela was looking down on them, she’d have given them her blessing.
