A Woman Scorned

“Starting again is just so…” Jane buried her head in her hands and cried. The tears made her feel better. The tears were good.

“Painful?” Emily ventured.

Jane nodded her head with determined energy as though attempting to rid herself of her tears. Emily winced at the violence of the emotions assailing her friend and rubbed her back reassuringly.

“You shouldn’t have to start again,” Emily sighed, it’s just so unfair, “not after everything that’s happened.”

“I thought we were…” Jane wailed again.

“I know, I know,” Emily said as she attempted to placate her friend. But she knew there was nothing she could say. Not after Simon had kicked her and her son out of the marital home. Not after he turned his back upon his own family. That he had then begun to bad mouth Jane was beyond the pale.

“I’m sorry,” said Jane as she straightened up and grabbed a handful of tissues from her handbag. Dabbing at her red and swollen eyes, “I shouldn’t just turn up like this. You have enough going on with your life.”

Emily smiled, “you’re always welcome. You know that. Besides, I need an adult to talk to from time to time.” Carl, Emily’s husband, worked long hours and to add insult to injury, he sometimes worked away.

As though on cue, one of her brood shouted from another room, “Muuuuuum!”

Emily rolled her eyes. Stood up. “Duty calls I’m afraid.”

*

Time stuttered on. Divorce was a bumpy path over which the remnants of a life were dragged by the soon-to-be single. A rite of passage that must be undertaken alone in order to transform into the singular. Only then could the divorcee rejoin society. 

Life was made easier by the friends that rallied around Jane. When it came to the matter of which side should be taken, Simon made the choice for their joint friends. He made it easy for them by being difficult.

“I don’t know why he’s being like this,” Jane shook her head sadly as one of her friends recounted Simon’s unreasonable behaviour, “it didn’t need to be like this.”

“You’re better off without him,” said Carl, “he’s shown his true colours. How he could leave you and Jack like that I’ll never know. Not after everything that happened.”

“Have you seen this on Facebook?” gasped another friend. Simon had taken to playing the victim. Worse still, he was pointing a finger at them as he bemoaned the loss of people who he’d expected more from.

Jane’s friends pulled together in light of Simon’s comments. He was being grossly unfair. After all, he’d chucked her and Jack out. Feelings were running high as they defended Jane. Men could be such dicks. 

“He should grow up.”

“Yeah, he’s trying to play the victim and instead showing what a baby is.”

“Tosser.”

*

Jane joined her friends for a well-earned drink at the end of another hard week.

The divorce had been arduous. They knew the script well enough. This though was made exceptional due to the depths that Simon was plumbing, needlessly hurting Jane. 

“Don’t worry,” she reassured her friends, “I’ll get what’s mine. My lawyer is really good. He’s looking after me. Simon’s just wasting time and money.”

“There’s no need!” huffed Emily.

“I don’t know why people feel they need to be like this,” said Susan.

Her husband Tom nodded agreement.

“I hate to say it,” said Carl, “but some people are inherently bad.”

“He seemed alright before all of this,” Emily shook her head. Then she saw the look on Jane’s face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Jane took in a long, shuddering breath, the tears were only a whisker away, “it’s OK,” she said bravely, “I’m only just realising what he was really like.”

“You had told us things about him before though,” said Emily.

“I’m sorry to say it, love,” said Carl, “but the signs were there.”

Emily gave her husband a sharp look, “but you weren’t to know, Jane.”

Everyone nodded. Lost in angry thoughts. Raging at the hard knocks that life had a habit of doling out whether a person deserved it or not. Life seemed to single out the innocent party and give them a kicking when they were already down. Karma was out of control as far as this group of friends were concerned.

“Same again?” Tom had stood up and was looking for confirmation of the next round.

“Not for me,” said Jane, “I’m driving.”

*

Divorce is a strange limbo period in life. The shedding of a skin that was never meant to be removed is a painful process. A flaying of a shared identity that has become as much a part of a person as their smile.

In the midst of divorce is a cloying anxiety that rides on the coat tails of grief. Hope hides from such things and the sufferer is left to panic over what their life holds once the lawyers have ceased leaching hard earned savings and assets from the unhappy couple. Talk of the future is the casting of salt before the walking wounded. 

And yet few will hear the laments of the victims of divorce. Either they make themselves scarce and hide within the rabbit warrens of their own lives and proclaim themselves busy, or they shout down sense and reason with battle cries of perceived injustice. Easier to close the borders and become neutral. Better to co-opt pain and become a beacon of anger. A warrior of words with little thought of wisdom.

*

Jane’s merry band was angry and growing angrier all the time.

The cause of the anger was clear.

Simon.

They seethed and simmered at his behaviour. And although absent, he haunted the group constantly.

“He’s got a nerve!” Emily hissed to her husband when they took their seats in the local. 

Simon was there at the bar. Acting like everything was normal and he wasn’t hurting Jane with his unreasonably brutish behaviour.

“I know,” whispered Carl, “best ignore him.”

“You said hello to him!” she grizzled.

“What was I supposed to do?” Carl said quietly, “I was only being polite.”

“I’ve a good mind to say something!” she barked.

Carl winced, someone might overhear. He didn’t want a scene, “please don’t. We came here for a quiet drink.”

Later, Emily called Jane, “he was there. Bold as brass!

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Jane, “how did that make you feel?”

“Angry!” said Emily, “so angry! He hurt you! And he hurt Jack!”

“I know,” said Jane, “but I don’t want this affecting you.”

“It is!” barked Emily, “and he bloody well knows it is! I don’t even know why he’s still here! Why doesn’t he just move away. He knows he’s not welcome here!”

*

The end of an ordeal should mark the start of a happier phase of life. This is our hope and in hoping we encourage ourselves with stories of impossibly happy endings. 

Jane and Simon were now divorced and the expectation was that they would move on with their lives and in so doing everyone around them could also reset and focus upon happier times.

The wanting of something doesn’t always lead to its delivery. Those things in life that are worth having require more effort than want.

There should however be clarity. Everything in its right place. A chance to lift the veil and see things more for how they always were, and in so doing clean the rooms, move the furniture and decorate for the life you’re working towards.

*

The seasons do their own housekeeping. They know their places well. Theirs is a dance to the song of life. We hear it from time to time and rejoice in the rhythm. 

Spring had completed the bulk of its tasks and was introducing Summer to the workplace. As Summer smiled at the job ahead, the local pub’s beer garden transformed into an extension of the building itself.

These were the first hot days available to sit outside and unwind.

The garden was a small welcoming suntrap. Simon took a seat at a table with a lady he was seeing. Jess was as much a friend as anything. Neither of them were interested in rushing things. They were chatting away about their week and exploring the options for that evening’s meal. The conversation was about to cover the next weekend and when they might be free and what they might do with this new found weather. But as is the case in local pubs, the arrival of the locals has a habit of gently ushering the chat this way and that, following the course of a large and lazy river.

Greetings were exchanged as people Simon had counted as friends prior to his divorce chose to seat themselves at the table next to his. Cursory talk then ensued. Safe subjects that had little chance of becoming contentious nor of introducing controversy as they flowed past.

The dynamic continued to change in the garden as more people brought cold drinks up into the sunshine and enjoyed an idyllic time after a long period of darkness and misery – that Winter had worn a constant robe of moisture that had painted everything grey including the people of the village. They now laid themselves out to dry some.

Emily sat at the table neighbouring Simon’s and didn’t say a word to anyone. Instead she kept her head down and gazed at her phone. Eventually she texted her best friend…

He’s only brought a WOMAN to the pub!

Oh, that’s not on. I hope it’s not too awkward for you, wrote Jane.

I’m going to take the kids home. I don’t want them anywhere near HIM!

Probably for the best. I wish I was there with you!

Me too, hun. x

Emily had a quick word with Carl and drove the children home. Her mother was parked outside as she arrived. Emily didn’t look that gift horse in the mouth.

*

Simon had an idea of how the group felt. He knew where that feeling had originated. Emotion was a powerful force. People underestimated it. And yet here he was. In his local and enjoying a pint with Jess. Exchanging quips and thoughts about random topics with the people seated around him. Laughing at jokes. Attempting to make the occasional joke of his own. 

This was what the local pub was about as far as he was concerned, and he thought everyone else was in accord.

Then he saw that Emily had returned and she was storming towards him. Her whole demeanour told Simon that nothing good was about to happen and that the nothing good was going to happen to him. He sat in a strange bubble of calm and it occurred to him that the silver lining of this storm was that he’d actually hear the words that explained why his friends had rejected him. He’d never thought he’d get anything like closure and he wasn’t so naive as to think this would wrap everything up. But it was something and something was supposed to be better than nothing.

These were his thoughts as Emily approached him at a fierce walking pace with a face that signalled war. In a surreal moment he experienced a first. He watched as Emily lifted his almost full pint of ale and found himself wondering what she was going to do with it, what with her not being a beer drinker. The feeling of the liquid being poured over his head wasn’t a shock to the system. There was no reset. 

Simon just sat there.

And he continued to sit there as Emily launched into the diatribe she had returned from her mountain to deliver unto him.

“You’re not welcome here. You’re not wanted. By anyone whatsoever. The last twelve months? Knowing you’re here? It’s been awful. Worse than awful. You’re a nutter. Everyone is scared of you. You’re abusive. You hurt people. That’s all you do. You hurt people.”

Emily turned to Jess, “I’m sorry, but you should leave. He’s evil. Someone needs to tell you. He’ll only hurt you. Did he tell you what he did to my friend and her son!?”

Simon continued to sit in a bubble of reality as he observed this bizarre fantasy play itself out. He looked from one friend to another and wondered how they could allow this to happen. 

But then he knew.

He knew better than any of them and he hoped one day they might understand and that they wouldn’t come by that knowledge at too high a cost.

Jess picked up her phone and said something about making a call. Somehow, Simon knew she was leaving this situation, but not leaving him. He had a random thought about the beer being really good for his hair and he tried not to laugh. He knew if laughed he’d find it difficult to stop. The absurdity of his life was standing right in front of him and channelling itself through this poor, unsuspecting woman. The boil was being lanced for him, but not for anyone else.

*

“Stop this madness now!”

“Fuck off!”

This intervention and retort jarred the off-kilter situation and it derailed in the mists of an awkward silence.

Simon continued to witness. Jaws were dropping now. Why now? he thought to himself. Why not during the verbal abuse I’ve just been subjected to? Later he would realise that he was re-asking a question that he’d long ceased to pose. Saw that as a step further into the light.

A familiar figure stepped forward and took the empty glass from Emily’s fist, “I don’t want you hitting him with that,” he stated firmly.

“I wouldn’t…” began Emily.

“Really!” Dave the landlord laughed mirthlessly, “after what you’ve accused Simon of?”

“I…” but Emily was deflating now.

Simon found himself remembering the school playground. The way a bully shrank when caught in the act by a teacher.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” Dave looked from Emily to her friends, but Simon could feel all the participants in the pub garden shrinking, “you’re blaming the wrong person and focusing all your anger on someone who’s done nothing to warrant it.”

Carl stood up, “well…”

“No!” Dave didn’t even raise his voice but it stopped Carl in his tracks, “I’ll have none of it. You lot know better than most who it was who hurt that poor lad and it wasn’t Simon. Quite the opposite. You know Simon was the one who was there for your friend and her son. He was the one who discovered the abuse. No one else. He was the one who did something about it. No one else.”

Dave was shaking his head, “I will not have anyone abused on my premises… In the aftermath of all that… horror. You lot are doing this to a poor bloke who’s gone through too much as it is. I don’t know how he’s still standing. I really don’t.” He turned to Simon, “I’m sorry, Simon. I really am.”

“About time!” Emily had found her voice again, “you should have barred him well before now!”

“I beg your pardon?” Dave said these words in barely more than a whisper, but they were heard by all assembled and they all felt the menace the words carried.

Emily looked set to say something else, but Carl stepped forward, “don’t threaten my wife,” but there was a lack of conviction to the man, let alone his words.

“Listen to yourselves,” Dave chuckled, “she’s played you all like a banjo! Acting like you’re on the winning team while you betray a decent man! How can she play the victim after she walked out on Simon like that? After everything he did for her and her son!? Then he gets assaulted by her ex-husband, the one that did the actual, really bad shit. And while Simon’s in hospital she leaves him. And she’s seeing her ex again…” 

“What?!” gasped Susan.

“That can’t be right!” cried Tom.

“Ask them,” said Dave pointing at Emily and Carl.

Emily turned to her friends, “she’s my best friend.”

“She wasn’t even your friend until after she left Simon,” said Dave, “have you ever thought about that? Ever thought about how well she gets on with both of you these days?”

Carl shifted uncomfortably his face reddening, whispered, “we’d best go.”

“You best had,” Dave told him, “and don’t come back. You’re both barred. And you two had best leave with them. I’d give it a few weeks before you come back.”

Susan looked like she wanted to protest, but then thought better of it. The couple took their time leaving the grounds. Distancing themselves from Emily and Carl.

Jane never visited the local again.

*

The ring drops to the wooden floor. Instead of making its escape and putting Jane to an inconvenience, it spins upon the spot of impact. A neat trick that couldn’t be repeated if it were ever meant. This novel reality annoys her. The magic occurring beneath her is abhorrent. She stamps upon the ring to end the unwanted charade.

When she squats to retrieve the golden escapee, she smiles as she notes the buckled form of what once was a perfect circle. She finds the damage amusing. The value of the ring is in the material. She will sell the gold and she will have whatever she desires. This is the natural order of things. This is what is real to her. The use of all things including words, including emotions, and including people. Her reality is a game that only she knows the rules to and only she can win.

And this game is far from over.

Simon is unfinished business, as are Emily and Carl.

*

Simon stares out of the window at the place he still calls home and wishes Dave had been in the pub garden on that fateful day…