The Broken Man Part 16

'Yes, good thinking,' Sally agreed. 'So, this is how it goes. Friday evening after work, we'll go and get the groceries. Then we'll bring Mick's shopping back here, so he'll be all set up. We'll leave our groceries in the boot, except for the milk and such. On Sat.u.r.day morning, we'll put the bedding and linen in the boot and make our way over to the house.' She clapped her hands. 'Job done!'

'Sounds like you've thought of everything. Thank you, both. I don't know how I can ever repay you,' Anne said.

In a strange and selfish way, she somehow envied Sally's seemingly perfect marriage. From the first meeting with Mick, she had recognised a good and thoughtful man; a man who would never harm a hair on his darling wife's head. Unlike the evil man she had foolishly married as a young girl.

The time came to make one last visit to the house before Sally would move in with Anne.

'We'll draw the curtains as always, and turn on the taps for a while. We'll just spend a couple of hours over there this evening, shall we?' Sally suggested.

'I think so, yes. But why don't we take the bedding and linen tonight?' Anne suggested. 'That way we'll save time on Friday after work. And don't forget the grocery store will be busy at that time on a Friday.'

'Yes, that's very true.' And so it was agreed.

'Do you need me for anything?' Mick asked.

'There's not much you can do, Mick,' Sally reminded him. 'You're terrible at changing beds. And as for housework, if I let you loose it would only have to be done again.'

'Well, thanks for that!' Mick laughed. 'In that case, happen I'll go down the pub, and have a pint or two with the boys.'

'Oh!' Sally sounded disappointed.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. It's just that I thought maybe you could put that curtain rail back up, the one that fell down in the back bedroom. Oh, but it's not important, especially as n.o.body sleeps in there anyway.'

'Mmm!' He had the germ of an idea. 'I'll do the rail, don't worry.'

'No, honestly, Mick.' Sally felt bad now. 'It's all right ... it's really not important. I don't even know why I mentioned it. I mean, you can fix the rail any time. Go down to the pub. Meet up with your mates.'

'Only if you're sure you don't mind?'

'I am absolutely sure! Honestly, Mick, you haven't had a night out in a while and it'll do you good.' Sally felt mean now even mentioning about the curtain rail, especially as he had genuinely welcomed her friend into their home.

Mick was curious. 'How long do you reckon you'll be gone?'

'Two ... maybe three hours, I suppose.' She turned to Anne. 'What say you, Anne?'

'Yes. I think that's about right. Check the house. Change the beds and close the curtains. I might just have a quick chat with my neighbour; see if anyone's been hanging about, maybe.'

Sally picked up on her worrying remark. 'Anne, trust me, there won't have been anyone "hanging about". Especially not Carter, because thankfully that madman is well and truly locked up.'

When Anne felt the nervousness creeping up on her, she gave a wide smile. 'That's very true! But I'll go and have a chat with her all the same, if only to thank her for keeping an eye on the house while I've been away. In fact, while we're out getting the groceries, I might pick up a bunch of flowers for her.'

Sally agreed. 'Your neighbour is a real darling. I bet she'd have opened and shut the curtains as well, if you'd asked her. But she's getting on a bit and maybe it would have been too much to ask.'

Mick felt bad about going to the pub. 'I'll tell you what, Sal,' he started, 'I've worked it out. Being as you'll probably be gone the best part of three hours, I can do the curtain rail first and still have time to enjoy a pint or two with the lads. OK?'

Getting out of her chair, Sally went to him and kissed him full on the mouth. 'Course it's OK. I'm sorry if I sounded a bit miffed at first, but I didn't mean it. You go and see your mates. Have a good time, and we'll catch up when I get back.'

Half an hour later, Mick saw them off. 'Drive carefully.' He always worried about Sally in the car. Capable though she was, Sally could be a bit too daredevil at times.

As he waved them away, Mick smiled to himself, thinking how much he loved Sally. He had never had one single moment of regret at having married her. The only regret he had, and would always have, was that Sally was unable to give him a child.

That sorry discovery had floored them both. Yet, even with that, he had never regretted marrying her.

There were still the odd times when he truly ached for a family, especially when he and Sally were out walking, and he saw other men playing footie in the park with their sons, or a father teaching his child how to ride a bike. He missed all that, yet because he adored the ground she walked on, he was always careful never to let Sally know his true feelings.

At the same moment that Mick was dwelling on that particular sadness in their lives, Sally too felt a touch of regret at her inability to give Mick the children he craved. She had always planned that the back bedroom should be a nursery, and now, after years with no baby in it, it was looking rundown and neglected. She now felt guilty at having seemed unsupportive when he had mentioned he might go for a pint with his mates instead of putting up the curtain rail.

Anne had noticed how quiet Sally had grown since they left the house. 'Is everything all right, Sal?' she asked.

Sally nodded. 'Sort of ... yes. Only I should never have let Mick see how I wasn't keen on him going to the pub tonight. It was selfish of me. I should never have made an excuse for him not to go. The back curtains don't really matter anyway. It's been ages since he went out socially, and the first time he suggests it, I put on a sour face.'

'Well, I'm sure Mick didn't even notice.' Anne had seen the tense exchange, but tactfully made light of it.

Now her curiosity got the better of her. 'Tell me if I'm out of line, but can I ask why you don't like him going to the pub?'

'It's not that I don't like him actually going to the pub,' Sally revealed, 'it's just the tarty barmaid ... she has her eye on him.'

'Oh, I see!' Anne detected the green-eyed monster. 'And you don't like him going there without you, is that it?'

'Sort of. I'm not being paranoid, but even when Mick and I are there together, she's always stealing a glance at him. It's obvious that she fancies him, and when he goes to the bar I hear the two of them laughing together. I think he really enjoys her company. For all I know he might even fancy her!'

'You don't believe that for a minute, do you? I mean, he might just be being polite and laughing at her jokes, even if they're rubbish. Mick is a lovely man, Sal. You've often said how he makes friends easily.'

'Well, yes, that's right, he does. But what man can resist when a pretty girl keeps making a play for him?'

'A man like Mick, that's who.'

'Maybe.'

'For goodness' sake, Sal, you must know how devoted he is to you. Anyone can see, he's crazy in love with you. You're a fortunate woman, Sal. You have a good man there. I reckon he would rather cut off his arm than cheat on you.'

The atmosphere grew tense and, for a time, neither of them spoke.

Then out of nowhere, Sally made a heartfelt confession. 'I'm frightened, Anne. I'm really frightened that he might leave me.'

Anne was shocked. 'He would never leave you ... Why would he?'

Sally took a while to answer, and what she confided rocked Anne to her roots. 'I'm always afraid that he will leave me one day ... if he meets the right woman. And, to be honest, I wouldn't blame him.'

'But why would he leave you? He loves you far too much.'

'I know he loves me, but sometimes things happen that might make a man do what he might otherwise never do.' She searched for the right words to make Anne understand, without giving away too much.

She had always been afraid to say the truth out loud, hoping that if she never actually said it, then it might not be true.

Anne urged her on. 'What kind of "things", Sal?'

Wis.h.i.+ng she had not said anything, Sally gave a little shrug. 'Just "things". Like if someone was told something ... so cruel, it could break up a relations.h.i.+p. Something that could never be put right.'

'Such as what?' Anne was intrigued, and a little concerned.

Sally went on, almost as though she was talking to herself, 'Sometimes I think I'm just being selfish ... none of this is his fault. It's been on my mind for a long time that, however much I love Mick, it's very wrong to try to cling onto him.'

Anne was lost. 'What are you saying, Sal? I don't understand. You and Mick have a wonderful marriage. You belong together.'

Sally shook her head. 'All I'm saying is, maybe the best thing would be for Mick to find some other woman who could make his life complete.' She took a moment to think and reflect. 'If that happened, and he would rather be with her than me ... well ... I would have to let him go. It would be cruel of me to try and stop him.'

Anne understood that Sally was sorry for trying to deter Mick from going to the pub without her, but she sensed something much deeper in what Sally was saying.

So, because she cared, and because she and Sal now told each other almost everything, she decided to wait for an opportune moment when she might persuade Sally to confide her troubles.

She needed to know why Sally could even entertain the idea that Mick would be better off with another woman. Moreover, why would Sally be prepared to let her beloved man go? The idea of those two breaking up was unthinkable.

With Sally now lapsed into silence, Anne wisely kept her own counsel. She hoped a quiet moment might allow her friend to reflect on the enormity of what she had just said.

That was exactly what Sally did, and she quickly realised that her problem was too hard to bear alone. It would be good just to talk about it, preferably with a dear friend, who would not judge her. But not now, not in the car. So, gathering all her strength, she told Anne, 'I want you to know everything, Anne. I need to tell you. But it's too difficult just now.'

Gently, Anne laid her hand over Sally's. 'It's all right, Sal. Whenever you're ready, you know I'll be here for you.'

'I know.' Sally was deeply grateful to have found such a loyal friend and confidante.

A moment later Sally drew up at Anne's house.

After climbing out of the car, each took a bundle of linen from the boot, and as they walked up the path, the next-door neighbour gave a cheery wave from her window.

To Anne, it was a warm and comforting gesture, but not enough to quell the nervous flutter in her stomach whenever she returned to this house.

Yet she was determined to rid her mind of her tormentor, and get on with her life. This was her home, and it was where she wanted to be. She must not let him rob her of that.

Yet, even while her determination hardened, she could still hear his threat: What's yours is mine.

She dared not even think about it.

Once inside the house, Anne waited in the hallway for Sal to come in from the street.

She felt nervous, as always. She could feel Carter's presence there. In her mind's eye she could see him standing over her ... wanting to kill her.

Even now, after all this time, there was an atmosphere of evil here. It lingered, making her blood run cold. Come on, Anne! she chided herself. You can deal with it. You have to realise he can't hurt you from where he is.

Quickly now, before she lost her courage, she made her way to the kitchen where she put her bedding bundle down. While she opened the kitchen curtains, Sally came in to put the kettle on. 'I think we both need a cuppa,' she sighed wearily.

While Sally was preparing the tea, Anne went into the front room and opened the curtains there. It was a well-practised procedure, which they had perfected daily over these many weeks.

But when Anne came back into the kitchen, she found Sally seated at the little kitchen table, her head bent forward on the bundle of bedding, and sobbing her heart out.

On realising that Anne had returned, Sally quickly wiped her eyes and hurried over to the kitchenette.

Rummaging for the cups and saucers, she said, 'The kettle's just boiled. I'm making us a pot of tea,' and she began setting out the cups.

Having set the tray, she carried it across the room and sat herself down.

For the next few minutes they sipped their tea and talked about all things unimportant until Anne could bear it no longer.

'Look, Sal, I know I said I would be there for you whenever you're ready, and I will, but I know something is eating away at you. Please, Sal, you can trust in me.'

'Yes, I know that, but there's no use talking about it because nothing can be done. There's no cure. And there's no real future for me and Mick. I'm just a rope around his neck. I know I should end our marriage but I can't. The truth is, I don't know what I'd do without him by my side. But that's just selfish of me. I understand that now.'

Anne had no idea what Sally was talking about, but she did know one thing for sure. 'Talking about it might help ... more than you realise. I mean, look how you and Mick encouraged me to talk about what happened here. You helped me through it, and before you got me talking I had it all locked up inside and it was tearing me apart. Don't do what I did, Sal. Don't imagine it will all go away on its own, because it never will. So, let me help. Talk to me.'

'But you can't help, Anne. They've tried, but it seems there's nothing they can do.'

'About what? Tell me what's bothering you. Please, Sal, let me help. Remember how in the worst of my troubles, you told me not to shut you out? I'm asking you the same now. Please, don't shut me out.'

For what seemed an age, Sally did not reply. And then, in the softest of whispers, she confided, 'I can't make him complete. I can never give him the one thing he truly wants.' Hanging her head down, she continued, 'I don't know what to do, Anne. All I can think is to let Mick go. To give him a chance to find happiness with someone else. Someone who can give him what I never can.'

Embarra.s.sed and ashamed, she looked away. 'When we first realised something was stopping me from getting pregnant, I underwent so many different treatments. Mick did the same, but it wasn't his fault. It was me. In the end, they said I should reconcile myself to the fact that I can never have children.'

She took a deep breath. 'So now that you know, I'm sure you can imagine how hard it is. Mick is my life, and it really hurts that I will never be able to give him the child he so desperately wants ... that we both want. I know how much he misses out on being a father. I've seen him looking at the parents with children in the park, and it's so cruel.'

As Sally poured her heart out, Anne realised why the business of Mick going to the pub had been such a problem for her.

'It's unnatural for a man not to father a child.' Sally had suddenly s.h.i.+fted the focus of the conversation. 'The barmaid deliberately keeps making a play for him. She makes me afraid, Anne. She's recently divorced and she's got two small children. She even shows Mick photographs of them. It's as though she knows I can't give Mick the children he longs for.'

When, inevitably, the tears began to flow, Anne held Sally close. It was all the comfort she could give.

Left alone in the house, Mick closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet. For a time he had nothing on his mind. Then he had everything on his mind.

He thought about work, and all the things he had to do. He mentally back-tracked on his day at work and the lorries he had loaded up at the warehouse, satisfying himself that he had not missed anything; that the orders had been properly sent out and all the paperwork was done.

He thought about money. Thankfully, he and Sally had good jobs, so financially they were quite comfortable.

He thought about the future stretching far ahead of him, and he hoped it would be with Sally, because without her, there was no future worth having.

Inevitably, his thoughts reluctantly lingered on the cruel fact that Sally could not conceive. Yet even though the idea of never being a father cut him deep, he felt hugely compensated by the fact that he had a wife in a million. And besides, a man can never have everything, or there would be nothing left to yearn for.

He quickly s.h.i.+fted his thoughts to his mates down at the pub. Should he meet up with them? Or should he not?

He thought about all the work waiting to be done. There was a dripping tap in the kitchen, and last night he had heard one of the roof slates rattling in the breeze. That was another thing that needed fixing. Then there was the curtain rail in the back bedroom.

Oh, yes! The curtain rail.

He thought about the way Sally had grimaced when he mentioned going down the pub.

He knew she suspected the barmaid had her eye on him, even though she also knew he would never look at another woman. And why should he, when he already had the best woman in the world by his side?

Sighing, he shook his head, 'Fancy Sal thinking I would ever entertain that barmaid!' Still, even if he wasn't interested, it was still flattering to know a pretty woman had an eye for him.