Maddie woke disoriented. Her eyes were greeted with old fashioned roses on wallpaper that extended over the ceiling and instantly she knew she was in Briar Cottage, Caroline’s Oxfordshire eighteenth century place-in-the-country. She stretched and listened.
Birdsong. Silence. More birdsong.
For the first time in what seemed a very long time, Maddie smiled.
She threw off the bedclothes and opened the casement window, filling her lungs with fresh country air that wafted in. It was cool, but leaning on the windowsill, cool felt good.
Beyond the garden, early morning sunlight filtered through the leaves of a stand of tall beeches – is that why the two villages were named Woodley? She could see the birds now, flitting to and fro, the only discernible movement.
She shut the window and put on her bathrobe. Smells of coffee were wafting up the stairwell. Coffee first, then a shower.
“Sit,” Caroline said when Maddie reached the kitchen. “No talking allowed. Just coffee.”
Maddie grinned and did as she was told. What a difference from her own chaotic breakfast times at home when she had to push two grumpy people out the door with some sort of food either in them or with them.
Caroline, on the other hand, was swimming in a sea of calm. Her greying hair flowed down her back in untidy waves, so different from the professional bun she habitually wore when she was seeing patients. Her bathrobe had seen better days, secured with an old tie belonging to … Maddie had to think. Bright blue with purple spots – that must be husband number two, the one who owned the nightclub. Good riddance to that one.
After breakfast, still in their dressing gowns, Caroline led Maddie to the back conservatory; silence abandoned, they clutched second cups of coffee.
“Okay, what’s up?” Caroline asked as they sat in wicker chairs. “More trouble with that cow of a boss of yours?”
Maddie shook her head miserably. “Wayne trouble.”
“What’s he done now?” Caroline, who had finally found happiness in her third marriage, had little sympathy with wives who put up with nonsense.
Maddie closed her eyes. “Put it this way: suddenly taken to dyeing his hair with no discussion beforehand. Brand new, highly inappropriate and trendy haircut. Contact lenses that he kept ‘for work’. I didn’t know about them until I saw the credit card bill.”
Caroline guffawed. “That just shows what happens when a man thinks with his littlest head!”
Maddie’s eyes snapped open. “So it’s not just me being paranoid?”
“Paranoid? If a patient of mine could not see in which direction those facts are pointing, I’d be recommending a brain transplant.”
Maddie shook her head in response. This was no laughing matter.
“What’s changed in your life?” Caroline, the psychologist, asked.
Maddie sighed. “Nothing. In anything that matters, nothing.”
“Come on, Maddie, my friend. I know – the world knows – you’re having trouble at work.”
“I’ve always kept a healthy distance between work and home.” She knew it sounded as if she were on the defensive, but it was the truth.
“Listen to yourself,” Caroline commented, settling back in her chair.
Maddie slowed herself down. Of course the Romania situation would affect things at home. She sighed. “Okay. The extra assignments given to me by Romania had to be done after hours. One of my complaints. That meant, go to work, home, dinner, work at home, bed. Rinse and repeat ... nothing for Wayne other than a quick cuddle before sleep.” She’d not been there for him. Not for ages.
“How long?”
“Almost since Romania became my boss. Quite a few months now.”
“But it’s different now. You’re suspended.”
Maddie thought long and hard about it. “Physically, I’m around a lot more, yes. But, I’m consumed with the situation, always going on and on about it. I must be the biggest bore ever.”
“It’s a huge thing, Maddie. Is Wayne being supportive?”
That stopped Maddie in her tracks.
Support. That was her role. Assigned by Wayne and his sensitive, creative musical and needy soul. She’d love to be supported by Wayne for once. Right now, she needed support.
“It’s not just the emotional support problem. I … I am facing … I have to decide whether to throw in the towel or not.”
“Give up work? You?”
“What can I do? If the authorities decide in favour of Romania, there’ll be no choice.”
“What does Wayne think about that?”
“When I mentioned it, he threw a hissy-fit.”
“He’s threatened,” Caroline said decisively. “Maybe he’ll be forced out of his comfort zone, finally have to earn some money. Actually get off his backside and take some responsibility for his family.”
Maddie stared at her friend. “Is that the way you’ve seen him all these years?”
Caroline let silence be her answer.
Maddie put her mug down on the wicker table between them. She let the silence linger. She needed to think. “Can we continue this discussion after I’ve been out for a walk?”
Caroline leaned forward and touched Maddie’s forearm. “I’ll be here.”
Maddie let herself out of the front door and walked down the pea-gravel drive. Across the lane, she spotted a path leading into the woods. Just what she wanted. A perfect place to analyse her life. Quiet, no people and she had the time for herself, an untold luxury. After all, that’s why she came this weekend. She didn’t allow herself to think about the romantic weekend she’d had to abandon.
Okay. Her marriage. She fell in love with Wayne shortly after she’d met him. He and his group had played at an outdoor venue on campus when she was completing her social work master’s degree one sunny hot day. Maddie and about thirty other students were sitting in the shade of a large tree for the concert. Weird music. Sort of appealing, although Maddie wasn’t a music aficionado. It was pleasant sitting outside doing nothing instead of figuring out the knotty problem of what she was to write up next for her thesis.
Afterwards, she continued to sit there, watching the musicians pack up. She hadn’t realised she was the only one left until the dark haired boy who had played the lead guitar called out to her.
“Did we send you into a dwam?” He smiled a wonderful smile as he said it. A smile that lit up his face, changing him from average looking to appealing.
“Must have,” she said, walking towards the group.
“We’re off to the pub. Join us?”
And that was the beginning. Now, several decades on, with two grown up daughters and a fair few unsuccessful albums, he continued to make weird music that she still didn’t understand. She was (perhaps, maybe) still working as a Probation Officer, a job she landed immediately she finished her university studies. And now he had bought himself contact lenses. Secretly. And his hair….
Yes, obvious what was going on. Big question: had it progressed or was he merely trying to impress somebody?
Her gut clenched.
The trees were old and stretched high above her forming a canopy of green. Undergrowth was minimal – far too little light, she presumed. This deep into the woods, even the birds were quiet.
The needy bit. She had to think about it. At first, she had a good salary coming in and he did not. She financed renting some studio space for him. She financed their house, or rather, she and the bank. She paid the credit card bills. She sent their older daughter to university and would contribute to their younger one’s studies next year. Whatever Wayne earned went back into ‘the business’. Or so he always said. And she had no doubts it was correct. Wayne periodically released CDs and DVDs of his music but never boasted about any great successes. Any. She assumed each was a flop but it was a subject that was not to be discussed. She knew he always felt there was always the next one coming, more innovative, more creative….
She’d been the strong one. She’d been the breadwinner. She’d been the giver. She did all the cooking. And the housework. And the gardening. And was the one to go to school concerts, meetings with teachers, games involving the girls and whatever else periodically had cropped up over the years.
An unfamiliar feeling welled up within her. It took a moment to identify what she was experiencing. Both her body and her mind were singing the same sad song. She listened. It was telling her something. Something important.
To run. Yes, for the first time in her life, she would like to run away.