How Do I Love Thee? Page 13

  Alyssa looks in her address book and invites old friends over for dinner, trying to fill the void. But at the end of every night she finds herself lying alone, yearning for his smooth skin against her own, wanting his arms to enfold her. No-one has ever held her in bed like he had. He would cuddle up to her like a child. Limbs finding their way in and around each other to a comfortable position. Sometimes she couldn’t tell where her own body started and his ended.

  At week four Alyssa finds herself in Will’s lounge room yet again, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘I love him. I gave up my fellowship for him. I bloody well gave up meat for him! I would have lived with him. I can’t believe he did this. I hate him. But I love him so much! And he’s just out there going to work and to the pub and carrying on as if nothing’s happened. As if I never existed!’

  ‘No …’ says Will. ‘He sat right here in that chair two nights ago and said lots of the same things.’

  ‘He did?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘And would you have told me if I hadn’t come around?’

  ‘Um, probably wouldn’t have thought to, no …’

  ‘You men are useless,’ Alyssa bangs down her cup. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said he’s pretty confused and he knows he treated you badly but he’s been under pressure at work and that he’s going on some drug to try to stop him having such up and down mood swings.’

  ‘Really?! Did he say anything about getting back with me?’

  ‘His exact words were, “I’m pondering it deeply”. But he has to get back in control before he can think about that.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation, he said you were the best thing to ever happen to him. I guess he wants to get himself together and then decide.’

  It is better than nothing. Alyssa drives home with a dry face and sends Gerard an SMS just a screen full of kisses. Gerard replies: Ta.

  The next two weeks are filled with encounters that leave her confused. Gerard would visit for dinner at her invitation and then take off to the pub if she tried to touch him or talk about The Relationship. Or he would wake her late at night and ask whether he could come over after she’d already worked hard to go to sleep without contacting him. He’d climb into her silky sheets and she’d run her fingers through his smoky hair, kiss his beer-flavoured mouth and welcome him back inside her. He’d let her make him breakfast in bed but not let her presume that they were back together. She would be happy one minute and sad ten minutes later. What if he does come back and he just keeps behaving the same way? Do I want that? But I have nothing else. He is my best friend as well as my lover.

  After three successive nights of contact Alyssa starts to think they are a couple again—but knows better than to ask—and then Gerard disappears for another four days without contact. She would resign herself to the relationship being over, start to get strong, begin to throw herself into a new activity when he’d bring his trousers over to be mended. She liked feeling needed.

  Alyssa’s older sister says: He is messing with your head. Don’t let him get away with this.

  Finally Alyssa tells him she wants a week without contact so each of them can figure out what they want once and for all. She doesn’t think she can last that long without sending a text message or email but she is determined to try.

  The next day, as she pushes a trolley absentmindedly through the supermarket, she bumps into one of Gerard’s ex-girlfriends. The one that lost the table when they split. Lilley asks how things are and Alyssa can’t help but confide in her.

  ‘Typical,’ says Lilley. ‘That’s what he does. He did it to me and he did the same thing to Katrina when she thought she was pregnant!’

  ‘But he told me you left him!’ says Alyssa, trying to take in this information.

  ‘Nah. He can’t handle the real world. He just bolts when he’s faced with clotheslines and microwaves and stuff.’

  By the time Alyssa has finished the shopping she has a smile on her face. It’s not me then. It’s just domesticity he doesn’t like, she thinks.

  Two nights later Gerard sends her an SMS: I’ve come to the conclusion, you and I, we are right together.

  Alyssa collapses onto her bed with happiness. Her belief in their love has been vindicated. She knows she is right, knows they are meant to be together. He calls two minutes later asking, ‘Should I come over?’ She says, ‘Yes, yes, yes! Hurry!’

  Gerard stands on the doorstep, with some takeaway in a plastic bag in one hand, takes a deep breath and runs the fingers of his other hand through his hair. Alyssa opens the door with a glass of red wine in her hand and smothers him in hugs and kisses. ‘You stupid boy! Of course we are right together!’

  Much later they hold each other in bed all night, and for the first time in five weeks Alyssa doesn’t cry. Doesn’t feel the cold. Doesn’t wake in the night.

  Gerard takes his daily prescription pill and resumes the comfortable routine. Alyssa celebrates by doing the things he couldn’t seem to do for himself. She buys a wheelbarrow then prunes the wild forest that is his backyard. She brings over a couple of old outdoor chairs so they can sit out the back at sunset. She replaces the faded sheets pinned over the windows with curtains from her linen closet.

  One evening as they sip wine and Alyssa waters his garden, Gerard mentions for the tenth time how he wants to create a recording studio. Despite having most of the equipment, he has shown no inclination towards making his dream come true. Alyssa encourages and cajoles him into setting aside the coming Saturday to tackle it.

  They push open the door to the bedroom full of boxes. She forces him to sort the contents into a pile to keep, a pile to throw out and a bundle to recycle or donate. Just as her mother had taught her. Three hours later, with muscles straining and fingers bleeding, the two of them rearrange filing cabinets, computer desks, amplifiers, bookcases, keyboards and chairs to form the beginnings of a room devoted to the playing and recording of music.

  ‘Gerry, look at my fingernails! They’re full of dirt!’ Alyssa says as they drink a celebratory beer in the garden that afternoon.

  ‘You’ve scraped your knuckles as well.’

  ‘Yeah, that was when I was wedging the filing cabinet into the corner.’

  Gerard’s phone rings and he wanders around the garden with the mobile pressed to his ear and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Alyssa can decode what the other person is saying by Gerard’s responses.

  ‘Sure, mate, I’m up for it. Yeah, yeah, big day. Just built myself a recording studio. Yeah. Any time you like. Have a jam. Yep. Okay. See you soon then.’

  Alyssa hears her sister’s voice start up in her head and tries to ignore it. She knows she shouldn’t take it personally but she can’t help it. She has worked hard to build the studio, too. She would like to be invited to go to the pub, too. She can complain, of course. Then he’ll get defensive and tell her she’s overreacting. And if she argues her point she’ll risk losing him again. Going home to have a bath has far more appeal.

  The women’s magazine she reads in her bubble bath has an article in it entitled: ‘How to tell if he is breaking up with you’. Alyssa is intrigued to see that Gerard’s behaviour includes six of the seven tell-tale signs. She quickly turns to the vegetarian recipes for ideas on what to cook him the coming week.

  For Gerard’s birthday Alyssa buys him a new stand for his keyboard, and a week later for her birthday, he surprises her with a tiny black kitten. They name her Princess and she proves to be good company for those times when Gerard doesn’t come home until seven or eight in the morning.

  Discussion continues between Alyssa and Gerard by email. Alyssa prefers email because it gives her a chance to think about things before responding, and also Gerard can’t talk over the top of her in an email.

  From Gerard: I have been listening to an album by the Satellites. It’s a very dubby trippy sort of thing. I am thinking about indulging in a few serious chemicals at the mom
ent.

  From Alyssa: This is all scary new territory for me.

  From Gerard: The chemical thing is always in the nature of exploration. I have never been a serious user of anything, just from time to time, and it’s often extremely beneficial in breaking through mental barriers and I have a couple of those at the moment.

  From Alyssa: Won’t drugs interfere with the medication you are already on?

  From Gerard: No. In fact the stuff I’m on gives me a happy landing when I come down off the E. You should try one this weekend too.

  Alyssa tries half a pill and yes, it does make her love everyone, but she is used to being able to go straight to sleep after her customary two glasses of red and she panics a little when she cannot. Nor does she like the clenched teeth it causes or the big serotonin crash two days later. She is sad for twenty-four hours and doesn’t understand why until Gerard explains it. But it helps her understand what Gerard experiences all these nights when he is out without her.

  Alyssa sits in yet another Canberra bar on yet another Thursday night.

  ‘I hate winter,’ Will says.

  Alyssa says, ‘My friend at work has this great house at the South Coast. It’s got three bedrooms which each sleep two people. It’s right on the river with a dinghy and only a two-hundred-metre walk along the river to the ocean. Why don’t we go down there one weekend?’

  ‘Count me in,’ says Will.

  ‘Me too. How much?’ says Briana.

  ‘Only twenty-five dollars each per night, and we could all put in for food. I could buy it all. We could take my car and Will’s big station wagon,’ Alyssa says.

  ‘I’ll think about it. I haven’t got much money at the moment,’ Briana says, then turns to Will and asks him how much longer the dealer will be.

  ‘How much are these pills?’ Alyssa asks casually, finally realising why Gerard and his friends are always broke even though the two men earned more than her.

  ‘Forty,’ says Will. ‘Supposed to be pretty good.’

  ‘I might go to the Coast myself anyway,’ Alyssa tells the contents of her drink.

  Winter in Canberra lasts from Anzac Day to well into October. You can’t plant tomatoes until November for fear of late frosts. The daylight is gone by five pm each afternoon. In August Alyssa goes to the accounting firm and comes home in darkness. She cooks beautiful meals for her lover. Weeknights they hibernate in her warm house and snuggle in bed together. Gerard propped up in bed reading his occult, philosophy and spiritual books until midnight while Alyssa sleeps beside him.

  Every few weeks when he has one of his mysterious crashes, she massages his back and talks him through it. He curls up in her lap like a baby, saying he just wants to go to a quiet place and rest for a hundred years. Alyssa kisses his forehead and tells him he is brave and clever. And that he is a fabulous and inventive lover. And when he is ready, she sends her soldier back out to do battle with the world.

  ‘You’re looking pale, Alyssa,’ says Will one lunchtime. ‘You should be eating more red meat.’

  ‘Mmm. I’ve never been happier,’ she replies.

  Each morning Gerard pops home to his flat to get fresh clothes before going to work. Sometimes one of them raises the topic of living together properly but they never get around to moving his stuff. Gerard doesn’t seem to mind using his flat as a walk-in robe as he scammed the student housing association and only pays a quarter of the rent that Alyssa does.

  The first few nights that Gerard stays out after his gigs she wakes every hour, cold in her lonely bed, and sends him text messages. They take forever to get through to him in the underground bars. He replies at two am: Soon, but does not come for hours. She justifies his behaviour to herself: Well, if I was out having a good time I wouldn’t want to come home either. But she knows in her heart that she would never have gone out without him in the first place. Now that she no longer paints and has drifted away from her own friends, he is her life. She doesn’t seem to be an important part of his at all.

  She gives up calling him and he starts staying out until eight and nine to ‘chill out’. He says it is better if he doesn’t disturb her by coming home at five or six as he can’t sleep then anyway. It is true. He comes in and wants sex and keeps her awake even though she has slept fitfully throughout the night waiting for his return.

  When he returns at nine it works better. She is awake and they can make slow love, share the newspaper, and she can cook him breakfast before he sleeps for the rest of the day. Alyssa learns that if she keeps her mouth shut and her legs open, she can keep her temperamental lover.

  ‘You’ve lost weight,’ Alyssa’s younger sister Mei-Lin says when she visits.

  ‘Maybe I’ll be able to fit into some of your clothes now,’ Alyssa says.

  ‘Have you got any new paintings to show me?’ Mei-Lin asks.

  ‘I’m too busy after work to paint much anymore. Maybe I’ll do some over Christmas.’

  ‘You love painting! Why are you so busy all of a sudden?’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s a bit hard to have two creative people in one house. We can’t both be dreamy artists,’ Alyssa sighs. ‘Someone has to remember to pay the bills and buy the groceries.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you smile the whole time I’ve been here,’ Mei-Lin adds.

  Alyssa forces a smile.

  ‘That’s better. Shall we go dancing tonight?’ asks her sister.

  Gerard waves and chats to numerous people in the dark and smoky bars that they enter. He introduces her to people and she hears how ‘great’ he is or how ‘lovely’ she is and how Gerard has known them for absolutely ages. She can’t remember any of their names and feels a pang of jealousy every time they grab Gerard’s shoulder or share a joke. It’s a camaraderie that has taken many such late nights to develop.

  ‘How come we don’t see much of you?’ one of the women asks.

  Alyssa can’t think of anything lighthearted to say in reply.

  In the toilets Alyssa’s sister says, ‘Does he take pills every weekend?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘He just offered me some speed,’ says Mei-Lin as she applies her lipstick. ‘I still don’t like him much,’ she adds.

  ‘Don’t say that! I was thinking of marrying him,’ Alyssa teases.

  ‘Has he asked you?’

  ‘No. But I can ask him.’

  ‘But why? You’re obviously not happy!’

  ‘I’ve never been happier,’ Alyssa says, ignoring her own frown in the mirror. ‘Marriage would be the only way I could make him listen to all the things I need to say. I’d need some sort of commitment from him. Every time I get close to saying anything negative to him he just gets defensive. Or he goes out.’

  ‘Exactly! He’s a useless druggo, and you’re too blind to see it!’ says her forthright sister.

  ‘The trouble is, he can be much more than that,’ Alyssa defends her lover. ‘He needs my stability to allow him to be everything he can be. When he’s calm and not on drugs he is so interesting and creative and he expands my world so much. He’s also kind and romantic. Sometimes he—’

  ‘But you can’t rescue someone who doesn’t want to be rescued. You can do so much better. You deserve better. Everyone else can see that except you.’

  ‘My problem is that I hate failure. I refuse to fail at this.’ Alyssa concedes.

  ‘Being the younger sister, I don’t have that problem,’ laughs Mei-Lin.

  Back in the bar, a slow song comes on and Gerard finds Alyssa where she is sitting with her sister. He pulls her close and dances with her tucked under his chin.

  ‘You rescued me,’ he says, looking down at her. ‘I’ve never felt like I belong anywhere until I met you.’

  Alyssa feels tears forming in her eyes. Moments like this make all the rest worthwhile. For once they go home together and get into bed at the same time. He makes love to her tenderly and falls asleep in her arms.

  ‘My rehearsal has been cancelled,’ Gerard says wh
en he rings Alyssa’s work at lunchtime on Tuesday. ‘Shall we go to a movie?’

  ‘Oh, I would have loved to,’ she says, ‘but I have that planning meeting tonight, remember?’

  ‘Oh. Well, shall I cook us something yummy then?’

  Alyssa beams. ‘That would be lovely! I’ll be home just before nine. Can you wait that long to eat?’

  Alyssa stares out the window for a while after the call. It is September and some brave jonquils have stuck up their heads in the garden beds. She ploughs through the pile of work on her desk then attends the tedious meeting. She skips across the road to the car at 8.45 pm.

  There are no lights on when she pulls into her driveway and her good mood evaporates. She realises how tired she is.

  She throws down her bag and opens the mail. A medium-sized phone bill and a huge heating bill. She sends an SMS to Gerard to find out where he is. He replies with exactly the message that she expects: Courthouse. Home at 9.30.

  She takes a deep breath and thinks: I’m so, so disappointed. And hungry. And tired.

  She kicks off her shoes and begins to get the dinner ingredients ready, then stops. If I make the dinner then I will just get resentful and we will have a fight, she thinks. Best to just go and read a magazine, drink some wine and wait. Then I’ll be relaxed when he comes in.

  She opens an art magazine and tries to concentrate. Looks at the clock. Even if he came home when he said he would, she thought, we won’t eat until after ten.

  Getting up and putting her slippers on, she pulls out pesto and sun-dried tomatoes from the fridge and cooks pasta. Waits for him. He isn’t home at 9.45. She decides she might as well salvage some enjoyment from her evening. Serves her own meal, pours herself another red wine and opens the paper.

  Gerard finally comes in at ten and walks straight to the saucepan. ‘Smells good,’ he says, and serves himself a bowl. Not that Alyssa would have served his anyway. She is in the middle of an article about a new gallery exhibition. Repeating a mantra to herself: Don’t say anything. Don’t complain. Don’t even sigh and everything will be all right.