Grave Conversation

'No, so long as its respectful I don't really care. I'm sure I'll see it one day. Give me a reason to come back.'

'You're going to go again?'

'I'm a fugitive Dawn. A wanted man. I don't know if your lover put the bounty on me that he was promising to. But Plod would rather like to have a couple of conversations with me.'

'Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say. Was it hard getting away?'

He shook his head. 'Nope. I did it deliberately when you were in the States. Two Black guys cheating on a man's wife getting punished for that cheating. Cops there couldn't give a fuck. There was no-one local involved, it was a tourist thing. A race thing, a cheating wives thing. You saw the reaction in the media, half condemned me, half wanted to buy me a beer.'

'But to answer your question. Yes, I'll be moving on. I don't think they're actively looking for me. But the sooner I'm out of the country, the happier I'll be. Feels like I'm looking over my shoulder all the time I'm here.'

'Where will you go? Sorry, I shouldn't ask, I guess.'

'I don't mind. Trouble is I don't know.'

'How can you not know where you're going?'

'That's my life now. That's how I live.'

'That's awful.'

Terry shook his head.

'No. It's what I want. It's what I guess I always wanted. To just wander the Earth.'

'What d'you mean?'

'Do you remember Kung Fu? The television series from the Seventies?'

'Bit before my time.'

'Yeah, smart ass. My time as well, but they were repeated in the Eighties and Nineties. A Shaolin monk in the wild west who would sort out wrongs using Kung Fu. David Carradine or something like that.'

'Vaguely.'

'That's my life, just with no Kung Fu and no sorting out wrongs. I walk everywhere I want to go. If I want to go somewhere, I go. Just take my time, one foot in front of the other. Nice and slow. No rush, just savour where I am.'

'Where do you live?'

'I don't. Everywhere, nowhere. Wherever I am, I guess.'

'What? You stay in hotels?'

He shook his head.

'Rare as hell that. I may stay with friends, or camp more often than not. I've bought a boat and lived on that for a couple of years, touring the river networks. I lived in a Buddhist Monastery for just over a year.'

'You? A Buddhist? Did you shave your head, oh wise one?'

'It's been ten years and after all that we've been through, you're still the most sarcastic person that I know.'

'Just got that image of you in my head, wearing orange robes sitting under a tree. The bald head I can't really picture.'

Terry laughed. 'Well, it happened. About a year and a half in Southern India. I planned on staying the night and stayed a lot longer.'

'Why?'

'I was struggling with my feelings. Especially anger. I was really, really angry. I was angry at you for what you did, angry at myself for my response. Angry at the way that everything turned out. Angry at the whole damn world. I have only one life and what a fucking mess I'd made of it.'

'They were able to help?'

'Took time, honest and a shit tonne of work. I walked out a couple of times, but they got me to where I am now and I'm happy.'

'You look good.'

'Plenty of exercise, healthy eating and a lot of meditation. I'm outdoors all day, rain or shine. It's not complicated.'

'Pretty basic.'

'Yeah. I've shit in a few bushes. I've slept in hedges, under trees, got very cold, very scared. Been mugged.'

'Terry!'

'I'm living life, Dawn. I'm not riding a desk. Not trapped in a house doing chores. Not with people who don't want to be with me. I do what that Jack Reacher character does in those cheap books. I walk, I deal with what is in front of me and I don't worry. Well, not much.'

'That doesn't sound like much of a life.'

'You couldn't be more wrong. I see the sunrise and sunset most days. I ache, I feel good after meals. I eat when I'm hungry and sleep when I'm tired. I live life. Not walk around in some kind of detached daydream. Today, I nearly walked into about ten people. They were so busy on their damn phones that they nearly walked into me. What the hell? At least I am present, here. I know what's going on around me. I've met some incredible people, eaten wonderful food. Food, I'd never even heard of.'

'Any women?'

The question was asked in a quiet voice. Terry turned to look at her and nodded his head.

'A few. Not many. More than a threesome but not enough for an orgy. I'm not quite as good looking as your Darius. But I've had a couple of nights company here and there.'

'Don't put yourself down. You're far more of a man than he ever was.'

'Is, not was.'

Dawn looked up at him quickly.

'Was. You didn't know?'

'Know what?'

'He... He struggled after what happened. Couldn't cope with people's reactions, what you'd done to him as well, I guess. But mostly the way people treated him. He hated that they knew what you'd done to him. Stripped away his masculinity. He took his own life about a year or so afterwards.'

'I'm sorry Dawn.'

'Don't be for me. Don't be sorry on my behalf. That day when we came back to the room and realised what happened. What a day. We'd had a blast in the spa, me and Ruthie, laughing, gossiping. Came back to the room and our world ended.'

She looked down at the worn earth at her feet. Pausing a moment, before continuing.

'We walked in on cloud nine. I don't know if it was the smell, or the quiet or what but we knew as soon as we opened the door something was badly wrong. They were barely alive when we found them. I went with him to the hospital and made sure he was getting treatment. Then the police and the authorities took us. It was a proper three ring circus for a few weeks, then we came home. After that I never saw him again. Sorry, tell a lie. I saw him once, about a month before he took his life. He reached out to me, wanted to talk. We had a meal together and that was the last time I spoke with him.'

'I kind of thought with you cutting me off and the tattoo that you'd stay with him.'

'Did you think I was going to leave you?'

Terry nodded. 'You had his tattoo on you. You weren't having sex with me. I saw the pictures of him, I couldn't compete with him in the looks department. He was younger than me, a lot fitter and he had money. He had me in every way possible. For weeks before the holiday I was dreading every conversation with you because I thought each one was going to be you walking out the door and leaving me.'

'Terry, I... I'm...'

'Sorry? Yeah, I know. It was a shit period of my life.'

'I never thought about that. Bloody hell, that must have been horrible. I loved you, I really, really did. I know I didn't behave like it, but I loved you. The idea of leaving you never crossed my mind. I wanted both of you. I knew you wouldn't share me, that's why it was hidden from you. But never, never did I want to end what we had for him.'

'Then why?'

'Why? Because I could. Like I said, I had the best of both worlds. I didn't think you'd catch on. How would you? Ruthie wouldn't say anything. I wasn't going to confess. You never met Marcel or Darius, you didn't go to visit Ruthie at Uni. How would you find out? Stupid, stupid woman. I didn't think, didn't stop and work it through. Just quick justifications. Dumb, dumb, dumb.'

'Dawn, it's in the past.'

'I know, but when I think through what I've done. The people that I hurt and it was the people that I loved. It wasn't like I hurt strangers, I hurt the people closest to me.'

'It's done and can't be undone. What you can do is move on and think about how you want to be. But you need to move on.'

'You sound like my therapist.'

'I feel like your therapist.'

They laughed at his quick response.

'Seriously, are you getting some help.'

Dawn nodded. She looked down at the back of her hands, the veins, the hairs.

'I've been getting help since it happened. A bit of understanding why, a bit around dealing with the trauma. Some, like you've said, about reconciling what happened and moving on.'

'Good.'

'You don't hate me?'

Terry laughed.

'No, of course I don't. I was incredibly hurt at first, I felt rejected. Got angry and there were times where I hated you. But over the years, my feelings have mellowed, shifted. This conversation will move them again. Over the next while, when I think about you, my feelings will carry on changing.'

'I'm glad you don't hate me. I was afraid you would. I think there were some times where I hated you for what you did.'

'I can believe it. My reaction was, how shall we say, somewhat extreme.'

'Understatement, the gift that keeps on giving. Extreme is a good word.'

'Did you understand it?'

'Understand it?'

'Yeah.'

Dawn looked at him blankly.

'There's something, but I don't know.'

Terry smiled. 'I didn't know if you'd work it out. Remember Phil Newman?'

'Yeah, vaguely. A Team Leader you managed?'

'That's the one. Remember his story about his kid's toy.'

He watched as the comprehension dawned in her eyes. He nodded and gave her a grin.

'He was a proud dad. Really cared about his kid, doing anything for him and I remember when Ruthie was born talking to him about being a father. We talked a lot about it. I wanted to be a good dad and he was someone I saw as one. I remember asking him about discipline and how he did it.'

Dawn held up a finger, stopping Terry.

'Let's see if it's the same story. He told you about stamping on one of his son's toys when he misbehaved.'

'That's it. He backchatted his Gran, Phil's mother-in-law and wouldn't apologise. Knew he was in the wrong but was kind of 'fuck you' in his attitude.'

'I remember the story. Phil said, 'get your favourite toy,' it was a plastic toy.'

'A Transformer. Metal and plastic'

'That's right. Kid brings the toy. Dad looks at him, puts it on the floor and stamps his work boot down. Smashes it to pieces in front of the kid, no warnings, no do-overs. No second chance.'

'Phil told it better. Said it was traumatic, the kid's reaction was off the chart but he never, never doubted Phil again. Never back chatted his Gran either.'

'You stamped on my toy.'

'Smashed the fucker to pieces and left it for you to find. You knew I did it, I didn't hide. Left my ring for you to make sure you knew. Stamped him, crushed him, and left you to pick up the pieces.'

'Literally.'

'Literally and metaphorically. One evening, I was sat sitting at work thinking about how I could deal with what you were doing. In a lot of pain, a bad place. Working out what to do and what I wanted my life to be. I saw Phil's signature of an old procedure he'd approved and bang, I had my answer. Smash your toy.'

'So that's what I did. Smashed it up, broke it so you couldn't play with it again and then handed him back to you. Same lesson Phil's kid got. What was funny, now I think about it. I remember telling Phil that he was fucking brutal in what he did and he agreed. Said doing it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He knew how much it was going to hurt his boy. But it was the right thing to do. Taught him a valuable lesson. He got that right, did Phil. Doing that to those toys of yours was the hardest thing I ever did.'

He could see her sitting there, struggling to get her head around what he'd told her. He patted his pockets and pulled out a packet of fags. He offered them to her and she pulled a face. He lit up and took a deep breath.

'I didn't think you smoked.'

'Gave up for you because you hated it.'

'Still don't like it. Smelly habit. And it kills you.' She shook her head. 'Give it up, please.'

'Like you care.'

'I do care. I know I did a really bad job of showing it, but I loved you. I still love you.'

'Yeah.'

'Yeah. Terry. Yeah. I love you still. I don't know if you know but we're still married.'

'Only because you can't find me to give me the divorce paper.'

'Nope. If that were the case, you've been gone over seven years, I could have you legally declared dead and end the marriage. I don't want a divorce.'

'No? What you want to get back together?' He laughed.

'No. I don't think, given all that happened, that we'd work.'

'You think?'

She looked at him and saw the smile on his face.

'Listen you stupid bastard. Just because we're not together doesn't mean I don't think about you, still love you, miss you like crazy. I'm still your wife because I want to be. Not because I have to be, but because I want to be. I talk to you every day.'

'Stupid.'

'Marriage is for life. I fucked up, I fucked up our marriage. That was my mistake. I know we're not a couple but I still want that connection with you and I won't be the one to break it.'

'Don't be daft, Dawn. You're still young, still beautiful. Don't give up. Find that good man and be the perfect wife for him. Your first marriage may not have worked out well, but you've only got one life. Make yourself happy, despite what happened, you don't deserve to be sad and lonely. No-one does. There's no do over, no second chance, no refund.'

'I've never been with anyone else. Just Darius and you since we got married.'

'Don't be a martyr, Dawn. You can have a long, happy marriage. Maybe not kids, but a damn happy life.'

'I'm not being a martyr. I'm happy with my life. I have my regrets and there are things that could be better, but I'm not unhappy. I don't want another man.'

'If you want a divorce, I'll sign the papers for you.'

'Do you want a divorce?'

He shook his head.

'No. I would love things to be better between us. We've got good history and the way we split really shades some of that. For me, this conversation is a start of opening those pleasant memories back up.'

She looked up at him quickly.

'You think of us having pleasant memories?'

'Hell, yeah. I loved being married to you. Well, up until the end. I was proud as hell to be your man, Ruthie's dad.'

'For me, Terry. We're back there. OK? I don't hate you. I don't want you to think of us badly. What happened, happened. Remember the good times.'

He gave her a weak smile in reply. He stubbed out the cigarette butt and flicked it away.

'You smoke many of those?'

'Most of the time, no. It's too hard to get my hands on them. But if I'm somewhere like the West where it is easy to get then I tend to indulge.'

'Give up and then start again, give up again. Unpleasant.'

'Life is discomfort. Just like Buddha said.'

'You buy into all that?'

'A fair bit. I don't buy the religious side, but as a philosophy I do. Mostly any way.'

The conversation drifted into silence and they sat, looking into the distance. Thinking about different things that had been said.

'So, you've not had sex since....'

'Kind of what got me into this mess. I haven't met anyone I've wanted to have sex with.'

'Wow.'

'I know. If you'd told me before I left for Florida that I wasn't going to have sex for another ten years. I don't know what I would have done.'

'Probably half killed Darius with your lust.'

Dawn laughed; Terry looked over at the unalloyed amusement on her face.

'I've missed you, Terry. So, so much. I think that's what was the hardest about all of this. I've always had you at my back. Knowing that gave me confidence. I've missed this. Just being able to talk to you.'

He shrugged.

'I know. But I don't want you out there thinking I hate you or worse that I don't care. I want you to know you're loved, valued, missed.'

'Thanks.'

They sat there and Dawn reached out and hand, taking one of Terry's into hers. She squeezed it gently as they sat there like that, enjoying the silence. The sound of the last of the birds settling down for the night. A motorbike, audible in the distance.

'How are your parents?'

'They're alive. We don't really have that much to do with each other.'

'The email?'

'Yep. Darius being black, they didn't like that. Things were said. We talk from time to time, but the relationship is tenuous at best.'

'You were never close.'

'No. No, we weren't.'

Terry looked around the cemetery, hard habit to break. He'd never had to run to escape capture. But that didn't mean he stopped keeping his eyes open. He'd gotten out of trouble a number of times by being alert, aware of what was going on. But sat here, everything looked good, his spidey sense wasn't tingling.

'Are you curious about Ruthie?'

He took a deep breath. He had found her betrayal the hardest. She was blood, family, his daughter and for her to be the one who fixed her mother up with a lover. It was something that he still struggled with.

'How is she?'

Dawn looked at him closely. He could see her look.

'She's in a good place. Her and Marcel.'

'They stayed together?' His disbelief was clear in his voice.

'They're a good couple. They always were. I'm gutted you never got to see them together, they really do care about each other.'

'I'd have liked to see them, but I never got invited to meet her boyfriend.'

'She was worried you wouldn't like him.'

'Because I'm her dad or because he's Black?'

'A bit of both. The colour thing did make her reluctant to bring him home to you.'

'He's black, so what? I was never bothered by that kind of shit.'

'There's more to it than that. There's a difference between being with a Black man and a White man. Don't pull faces. I've been with both. I know the difference and so does she. It's not just you'd have seen his colour, but Black men speak differently to women.'

Terry didn't respond. He didn't know what to say.

'I think the way he'd have spoken to her would have got up your nose. The confidence, the treating women like a possession. I think he knew that as well, same with Ruth. She wanted you to meet him, really wanted your approval of him. She was serious about him.'

'Getting him to fix you up with one of his mates was a really fucking stupid way of managing that situation.'

'She knows. He knows. I know. Doesn't change anything. He's done a lot of growing up since, he's had to. So's she.'

'Good.'

'Wow. No forgiveness.'

Terry breathed out loudly.

'What do you want me to say, Dawn? That I'm good with what she did? I'm not. I'm still pissed at her.'

'I get that. She fucked up. What I did was worse.'

She could see him shaking his head and pressed on.

'Hell's teeth, Terry. I was your damn wife. The woman you loved, I was the one who stood next to you and swore to stay faithful. Love, honour, obey, whatever the damn words are. I swore, she didn't. I betrayed you.'

'Yeah, you did. Your betrayal really stung, it hurt. Right down, right to the quick. Still hurts. But what she did was worse or maybe not worse but was harder for me to deal with. She was my daughter, my own flesh and blood. I raised her. I gave her every damn thing I could. I didn't ask much from her, but to go out and fix her mother up with a lover, fucking hell.'

'It was me that asked. It was me that acted on the introduction. I was the one who crossed the line.'

'Yeah. I'm not letting you off the hook. You have the bits you were responsible for, but if she had done the right thing, it wouldn't have happened. All she would have had to have done was to say no. Or to tell me, give me a heads up. But she didn't, she loved the fact you were doing it. I was her dad and she loved that you were cheating on me. My marriage was a joke to her.'

'You should talk to her.'

'Why?' Terry could hear the disdain in his own voice. The heat he felt on this topic surprised him.

'Because she gets it. Better than me. She knows how much she fucked up. So does Marcel. They've helped me a lot with facing what I've done. She's in the same kind of place you were with me earlier. Own your mistake, not someone else's and she owns her part.'

'I don't know what I'd say to her.'

'To them.'

'I don't have anything to say to Marcel.'