Bookends
"You're
going to lose him if you're not careful," said Nancy, as
she unpacked the new titles that had just arrived. She was a short
woman, with tight grey curls and boundless energy.
John looked up warily. "What makes you say that?"
"I don't think he can take much more. One day you'll
push him away just once too often, and it'll be too late."
"I'm sure you're wrong. About him being interested,
I mean. What have I to offer? I'm fifty-two - far too old. Everything
I have is tied up in this bookshop, and you know how precarious
things are for small businesses nowadays. Even the supermarkets
sell books, and at a discounted price I can't compete with."
"You get plenty of customers."
"Plenty of browsers. They come in here to choose what
they want, then go off and buy it somewhere else. And there's
the Internet now, don't forget."
"And don't you try to change the subject."
John sighed. He was a tall, thin man who stooped slightly,
and had bright blue eyes that showed both intelligence and sympathy.
"Has he said something?"
"Maybe. He talks to me."
"And you talk about us?"
Nancy didn't answer.
"It wouldn't work. We have too little in common."
"You have books."
"And that's enough?"
"You should be having this conversation with him."
"I can't. Every time I try ..."
"... You realize how much he means to you?"
John nodded.
"So what's the problem?" She handed the new John
Grisham to John. They had a customer who'd requested a copy as
soon as it came in.
"Everything. Everything's the problem. Age. Gender.
Upbringing."
"Gender?"
"I was married, for God's sake!"
"I know. But Helen's dead. She'd have liked the boy."
"As a son, maybe. Not as her husband's lover."
"So you do think about it?"
"Of course I do. It's just not possible. Not now."
"So you're going to give up? Sink into your dotage
just like that? I thought you were a fighter. You never gave up
with Helen."
"That was different, we couldn't give up. We had to
believe things would be all right. Anything else was unthinkable."
"And yet you won't fight for Matthew?"
"It's not the same."
"No. This time you can win if you try. But if you don't
care ..."
"Of course I care."
"But you'd prefer to grow into a bitter, lonely old
man? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You do realise how selfish
you're being?" They'd known each other long enough for her
to be able to speak her mind.
"Selfish? I don't see how letting him go is selfish.
Anyway, he's young, he'll get over it."
"Will he? Have you asked him what he thinks of your
selflessness? To him, it'll seem like rejection."
"It's not that. It's just that there's no future in
it."
"Sometimes I think you don't want your cosy life disrupted,
that you're not prepared to make sacrifices. Which is a pity,
because you could have it all."
"The modern myth: you can have everything now. I'm
just afraid I'll have to pay for it later."
"It's all right to be afraid. Better that than a lifetime
of regrets. You've got only one life, you mustn't waste it."
"Don't you see, that's how I feel about Matthew - that
he'd be wasting his life with me."
"And if Helen had said that - if she'd known she was
going to die in her forties - would you have done anything differently?"
"No. No, I wouldn't."
"Come on, John. Helen would have wanted you to live
life to the full."
"Sometimes I can't believe it. It just seems too good
to be true. And I feel guilty."
"That you care about someone else?"
John nodded.
"It doesn't wipe out all those years you and Helen
had together, you know."
"There were times when I wondered ..."
"Wondered what?"
"Whether I should have got married. Even then there
was the attraction ... Sometimes I thought that's why we never
had children. That I was being punished."
"Oh, John, you couldn't help your feelings. You and
Helen were the closest couple I've known. Anyone could see you
loved each other. You practically knew what the other was thinking."
"I used to wonder if she'd guessed - about the feelings
I'd had for other men before we were married. We just never spoke
about it. But I did love her. It hurt so much when she died."
"I know."
"And I'm frightened Matthew will leave me one day."
"So frightened you won't even take the chance of happiness?"
"I know it's stupid, I'm the one who's older, after
all. But I'm afraid of the gossip. I don't want him hurt."
"He's not a child. He doesn't need protecting. But
he does need you."
"And that's all?"
"Oh, he loves you, too. Why d'you think he's here so
often?"
"He came to browse."
"But he stayed."
"He comes when it's just you here."
"He comes to talk. Mostly about you. Which is where
this conversation started. John, you've got to decide. He won't
wait forever."
"I
just don't know where I stand," Matthew said to Nancy. She'd
just made them both coffee, and they were taking a break from
dusting the shelves. "Sometimes I think we're getting really
close, and then he mentions his wife or makes a joke about how
old he is, and I feel like we're back to square one. It's not
that I'm jealous of his wife, or mind that he's older than me,
don't think that. It's that I feel he's using it as an excuse
to keep me at arm's length. And I don't know why."
"Perhaps he thinks things are going too fast."
"We've known each other a year now. He must know I
love him."
"What about the age gap? You're over twenty years younger
than him."
"I know. But when I'm with him, it doesn't seem to
matter."
"You don't see him as some sort of father-figure, then?"
"I used to think perhaps that was it - you know, someone
who would accept me for what I am - but then I realized my feelings
weren't those of a son."
"What about your parents? Have you told them?"
"About us?" He sighed. "Not yet. There's
nothing I can really tell them at the moment."
"How d'you think they'd take it?"
"They'd try to talk me out of it like they did when
I told them I was gay. They'd convince themselves it was just
a phase, and they needn't worry. I'd marry some nice girl, and
it would all be forgotten. Sometimes I wished they'd get angry,
it would have been easier for me to deal with. Anyway, as I said,
there's nothing to tell."
"He might be afraid. John."
"What of? Commitment? Sex?"
"Those, too." She looked at his unlined face,
the fair hair that was still thick and his clear brown eyes -
an unusual combination but a pleasing one, she always thought
- and sighed.
"What else?"
"That you're too young. It wouldn't be easy. People
would make assumptions. Either that you were father and son, or
that-" She stopped, embarrassed.
"He was cradle-snatching?"
She looked away.
"That he was paying for my services?" Matthew
said softly.
She nodded unhappily. "John's friends might not understand.
They'd try to make John see sense. They might even think you'd
taken advantage of him while he was still grieving for Helen."
"I've met her mother, did John tell you?"
"How did it go?"
"Fine. John introduced me as a friend. We'd been working
in the garden when she arrived, and we were both filthy. We all
had lunch together. She asked if I had a boyfriend."
"The old bat! What did you say?"
"Nothing. I was too busy mopping up the wine I'd spilt.
John told her to mind her own business."
"Which was tantamount to admitting there was something
going on between you."
"Exactly. And she's not an old bat. I thought she was
very nice."
"Helen used to say her mother could charm the birds
from the trees if she put her mind to it. You're sure she doesn't
have an ulterior motive?"
"Like what?"
"Warning you off, perhaps? Kate hadn't wanted her daughter
to marry John, but, on that occasion at least, she didn't get
her own way. So maybe now she's switched her allegiance to her
son-in-law, and is seeing whether you're suitable."
"I did get the impression I was being sized up, but
the odd thing was she didn't seem surprised at my presence. It
was as if she'd been proved right."
"You mean that's why she'd had doubts about John marrying
her daughter? She knew?"
"Possibly. Maybe I should ask her on Saturday. She's
invited me round for tea."
"Oranges
Are Not The Only Fruit," said Matthew.
"So I understand."
"Do you?"
John nodded.
"I want to know how you feel. I need to know how you
feel."
"I feel alive."
And Helen was dead. Matthew turned away, trying to hide
his shock.
"Matthew, I didn't mean- I put it badly. What I was
trying to say, and failing so abysmally to, was that I feel alive
when you're with me. Emotions I'd given up hope of ever experiencing
again go racing through me. Feelings I'd always tried to pretend
weren't there come to the surface. I feel whole, complete."
"So why do I get the impression there's a but?"
"Matthew, you're half my age. It's not fair on you."
"You're right: it's not fair on me. I want to spend
the rest of my life with you, and you're pushing me away."
"Because it wouldn't be the rest of your life."
"Who gave you the right to decide what's good for me?
Don't I get a say?"
"Matthew, please ..."
"No, I won't listen. Not when you're talking such rubbish.
I love you, and I want to be with you. Tell me you don't feel
the same, and I won't mention the subject again."
"I can't. You know I can't."
"So we go on as before?" Matthew asked tiredly.
He wondered how long they could keep going round in circles like
this.
"If that's what you want."
"Do you?"
"I can't see any other option."
"I'll sort out those books that arrived yesterday,"
Matthew said, and turned away.
"What
was she like - Helen?" With John out of the shop, Matthew
was able to question Nancy.
"Full of life, energetic, enthusiastic. That made what
happened even more tragic. But she had her faults. She was stubborn.
She'd set her mind on marrying John, and she did, despite her
mother's objections. I'm beginning to think you can be stubborn,
too. And you love books."
"It doesn't sound a very exciting pastime."
"Passion comes in many guises"
Matthew sighed. "I'm not sure passion comes into it
at all."
"Have you talked ... about sex?"
"A little, generally. Not about what he wants."
"Maybe he doesn't know. Just because he's older doesn't
mean he's more experienced. And with Helen being ill ..."
"I'm not exactly an authority on the subject myself,"
Matthew admitted wryly.
"There's bound to be a book in the shop."
"I couldn't find anything. I checked every section
I could think of. There was just the usual: Isherwood, Maupin,
EM Forster. He's read them all, you know."
"So he knows the theory?"
Matthew smiled. "Mmm."
"Maybe he just needs a bit of a push to get to the
practice."
"More like a shove!"
"You're
a fool, John. Always have been."
"Kate?"
"Of course it's me. Or do you have people queuing up
to berate you over the telephone?"
"Hello, Kate. How are you?" Kate was a woman who
would stand no nonsense. Her daughter, Helen, had been much more
like her father, although she'd inherited her mother's beauty.
"Seething."
"So I gather. What is it this time?"
"Matthew. What have you done to upset him?"
"Why, what's he said?"
"Nothing. He just looks like a little boy whose pet
hamster has died. You've lost Helen, and now you seem intent on
driving Matthew away. What's the matter with you?"
"It's really none of your business, Kate."
"Of course it's my business, you're my son-in-law.
I held my tongue when Helen wanted to marry you, but I'm damned-"
"Held your tongue! You did everything you could to
stop her."
"You were lucky it turned out as well as it did. Anyway,
that's all water under the bridge now. You know Matthew's thinking
of leaving, I suppose?"
"Leaving?"
"You thought he'd just stick around, and things would
stay the same. He'd help you in the shop, he'd lend a hand in
the garden, and once a week you'd cook him chicken with avocado."
"How do you know about that?"
"You used to cook it for Helen. No, Matthew didn't
tell me, he's very loyal. You'd have to go a long way to find
someone like him."
"I know."
"So why are you so determined to put him off? You're
not getting any younger."
"That's the whole point, Kate. I'm not getting any
younger. I'm too old for Matthew. He needs someone more his own
age."
"Nonsense! You'll be saying I'm too old next! Opportunities
don't come along every day. Don't waste this one."
"I thought you of all people would understand. It would
be like betraying Helen."
"Stop being so melodramatic. You're not one of those
women who throw themselves on their husband's funeral pyre. Don't
you understand? You're being given another chance. One you've
always hankered after, if you ask my opinion. And, if we could
ask Helen, she'd say the same: go for it. That is the right expression,
isn't it?"
"Yes, that's the right expression," John said
wearily.
"So what are you going to do? You can't let him go
just because you're too defeatist to speak out."
"Why does everyone think they know what's good for
me?"
"Stop shouting, I'm not deaf yet. Someone has to tell
you because you patently can't see the wood for the trees."
"And what d'you think your bridge cronies will have
to say about it?"
"They'll be absolutely thrilled - they won't have had
so much excitement since Hetty Armstrong's wig blew off on the
cross channel ferry last year."
"Well, if that's all it'll be - a topic of conversation
while you're playing cards - I'm not-"
"John, you can't have been listening to a word I've
said. Forget about the bridge club - they'll find something else
to gossip about, they always do. No, it's you I'm worried about.
I care about you. You were a good husband, and you'd have been
an excellent father if things had been different. But they weren't,
and you don't have any children or grandchildren. I'm not going
to be here forever, and I want to see you settled. All I see at
the moment is that you're looking a gift horse in the mouth."
"I'm sure Matthew doesn't want to spend the best years
of his life wheeling me up and down the seafront."
"Poppycock! You've got years left. Bother, that's the
doorbell. It must be the meals-on-wheels lady."
"I didn't realise-"
"Not for me! I've offered to help. Now promise me you'll
think about what I've said."
"You
didn't come to the shop today."
"No."
"I thought you might be ill. I didn't have any grapes
so I brought a bottle of wine. Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course. Excuse the mess." Matthew indicated
the piles of old clothes and magazines ready to be taken to the
recycling centre. "I've been having a clear-out. It's amazing
how much junk you accumulate."
"Wait till you're as old as me!"
Matthew turned away.
"Sorry, I didn't mean ... So it's true: you're leaving?"
"I haven't decided."
"I'd miss you."
"Would you like a coffee?" Matthew asked, changing
the subject.
"Thanks."
They drank their coffee in silence. Eventually John looked
up. "But it is true - you do accumulate a lot of junk as
you go through life. No, hear me out," he said desperately
as Matthew stood up intending to take his cup back to the kitchen.
"Not just material things though, God knows, I've enough
of those. No, I meant assumptions, preconceptions, inflexibility.
And fear and guilt. Sometimes it's difficult to see past them,
to believe that something could possibly be more important. Like
love, companionship, hope."
"Love?"
"I've got out of the habit of thinking it, let alone
saying it. But I do love you. Without you, I feel empty. And the
last week or two have made me realise that I don't want to feel
like that, but I ..." He ground to a halt.
"Yes?"
"I can't offer you much. A shop that takes all my time
and money. A body that's already creaking and sagging like an
old sofa. An outlook that's so blinkered I may already have lost
the one thing I should have fought for at all costs."
"I don't want much," said Matthew at last. "The
shop's fine, I feel at home when I'm there. And old sofas are
far more comfortable than brand new ones."
"You still haven't said if you're staying."
"Is that what you want?"
"I want us to be together. A couple. I want to meet
your parents, I want to get to know your friends. Hell, I even
want Kate's bridge chums to gossip about us!"
"Did she speak to you?"
John nodded.
"She spoke to me, too. How you were stubborn and pig-headed
and obstinate, and how we deserved each other."
"And Nancy kept on at me. She kept warning me I'd lose
you if I wasn't careful." John paused. "Have I left
it too late?"
"I didn't really want to go. I want us to be together,
too, although I'm not so sure about wanting Kate's friends to
talk about us."
"She'll be insufferable. She'll believe it's all her
doing."
"I was going to leave last week. She talked me out
of it."
"I didn't know."
"She didn't want you to think she was interfering again.
I think she still feels guilty."
"Guilty? Why on earth should she feel guilty?"
"Well, she admits she tried to persuade Helen not to
marry you. She knows she was wrong - you and Helen had a good
marriage, and she's said she couldn't have wished for a better
son-in-law. She needs to make it up to you somehow."
"I always liked her."
"Shall I open that bottle of wine now?"
"Just a small glass. I've got to drive."
"You don't have to," said Matthew slowly.
"No, I suppose I don't. All the more reason not to
drink too much. I passed out on my wedding night. Helen had to
put me to bed. Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned-"
"No, it's all right. I threw up the first time - food
poisoning. I spent the rest of the night in my boyfriend's bathroom
being sick. He was very nice about it actually."
"Who
on earth is phoning at this time of night?" John said sleepily.
"I'd better answer it. Good job it wasn't half an hour
ago." Matthew picked up the receiver.
"Who is it?" John whispered after a while.
"Shhh!" Matthew grinned at something the caller
said, then put the phone down. "That was your mother-in-law."
"And yours in a way. I don't know if there's a word
for the mother-in-law of a partner."
"Is that what we are?"
"Partners, lovers, whatever you want. Shall we tell
Kate tomorrow?"
"She'll want all the details."
"She can mind her own business for once!"
"And pigs might fly."
"You're right. We might as well issue a press release."
"More expensive, though."
"And not so effective. I owe her a lot."
"So I do. By the way, she's cooking lunch tomorrow.
She told me to tell you you're invited, too." He grinned
at John. "She knew you were here."
"She must have the ears of a- Perhaps Nancy's right,
after all."
"What d'you mean?"
"Maybe Kate really is an old bat!"