Chapter Two: Fractures
After passing a restless night, I awoke early. I had vague memories of strange dreams that I couldn’t really bring into focus. Dreams that had left me feeling out of sorts. I felt disoriented. I had spent the previous evening out for dinner with some friends, old friends from my former work-place. It would be hard to imagine a more difficult evening. Laying in bed, I was thinking about how strained it had all been. Where once hearty conversation had flowed easily, the exchanges had become static, hard work. The evening had been punctuated by awkward silences, and pregnant pauses. We had all been friends for many years, work friendships that had blossomed into general friendships, but, after I had been made redundant, things just wasn’t the same anymore. Those friendships, if indeed that’s what they had been, had all started to unravel. Some of my former colleagues stuck by me, displeased with how I had been treated by the company after many years of faithful service. Most, however, seemed to feel that I had become somehow tainted, and that association with me could in some way give a bad impression of them to management. I could be contagious. People I had thought of as having been friends of many years had become unknown entities, people that were difficult to interact with. Had we ever actually been real friends? Or had they all just been friendships of convenience, people who had had something in common, for a certain period? Like ships moored next to each other in a port, before sailing off to other ports. It had almost felt like everyone had just been going through the motions. As if they had felt duty-bound to keep up the pretense of friendship. Probably as time passed, invitations would come with less frequency, my acceptances of any such invitations certainly would be in serious doubt. Maybe that is how it should be? When change is thrust on you, when your life is dismembered, maybe you need to start afresh, in a new place, with new people? It all left me feeling a bit sad, and emotionally drained. I had a shower, hoping that the hot water cascading over me would wash away the discordant feelings that had taken root in my mind. Feelings that could not easily be rinsed away.
It was uplifting to shake of my despondency, and to get outside, on Dante street, where no one knew my background story, and where no one felt the need to take sides. On Dante street I wasn’t a dividing force. I was in a place where a new me could be sown, and hopefully prosper. The spring sunshine on my face filled me with great expectation. After the arduous conversations of the previous evening, I was more than ever convinced that I had made the right move. Renovation, renewal, rebirth. A new, improved version of me would rise from the ashes of my former charred life. A life that had been burnt to the ground around me. A life that had been destroyed effortlessly, without a trace of compassion, simply by the stroke of a pen.
With little surprise I noted that Rosa, as usual, was already on her bench. Did she ever sleep at all? After the strained, painful conversations of the evening prior, it felt good to jump into a jocular frame of mind. I would not be held back. The restraints that had been placed on me in my former life had no validity in my place of resurrection. I could move in only one direction. Forward.
‘Hi Rosa, what a lovely day. I really love your shoes. You have great style. I’m afraid I just get whichever ones are the most comfortable. Maybe you could be my style consultant? You could come shopping with me, and help me pick out some trendy new stuff, what do you say?’
She looked up at me, and smiled, briefly. It was a better than expected result. I decided to nudge her, with more force, back into life. She, too, deserved a second possibility. Really, far more than myself.
‘Come on, come with me. Let’s get a coffee and a brioche into you.’
I half picked her up, she was so thin and light that it didn’t take much effort. At first she resisted me, but then she relented, and stood up. With her hand holding onto my arm, we headed up the road to have some breakfast. I felt a power rush through me. I was the defender of the downtrodden, the saviour of the forgotten. Valentina beamed with joy when we entered her coffee shop.
‘Rosa, it’s so good to see you! Sit down over here, both of you.’
She showed us to a table, by the window.
‘The usual for you, Nigel? What about you Rosa? A coffee and a bricoche?’
Rosa had her head bowed, so I answered for her.
‘Yeah, that sounds good, Valentina, thanks.’
Out on the street there was the usual hustle and bustle of the daytime traffic. Dante street led up to some other roads, all full of flats, and houses. During the day it was quite busy, with residents, and workers, coming and going. At night the street was very quiet, when everyone had returned to their homes.
‘Rosa, I know there’s nothing I can say or do, to make you feel any better, but it would be lovely to have a coffee together, every now and then. Just to have a chat. Hey, I know! We could have afternoon tea. I’m a big tea drinker, and Valentina has a good selection of teas here. Let’s do it. Let’s organise an afternoon tea. When you feel like it, anyway.’
I prattled on with a lot of relentless drivel, just trying to take her mind off things for a while. I would come out with everything and anything, just to avoid any difficult silences. I spoke for both of us. A two sided conversation, coming from just one side. She merely sat there with her head down, or looking out the window, at the passing traffic. She did drink her coffee, but didn’t touch her brioche. After a while, she stood up to leave. She glanced briefly at me, barely making eye contact.
‘Thanks, Nigel.’
As I watched her walking back to her bench, I felt good, empowered. I wasn’t really sure why. Was it because I had done a good deed for someone, or, rather, was it good for me in that difficult phase to see someone who was worse off than me? When we are troubled, with things not going according to plan, is it comforting to see people who are in an even worse situation? The thought of that was somewhat vexing. I mused for a while about how we were dealt cards, randomly, and just had to take whatever life threw at us. I was sure that Rosa, just a few short years previously, would never have imagined that her life would have come to that. Without a doubt her days would have been full, working, planning for her future, and for that of her family. I couldn’t help thinking how unfair it all seemed. I couldn’t help thinking how tenuous life really was. Everything we had, everything we took for granted, was really just hanging by a thread. A thread that could snap, or be cut, in a flash. I was thinking thoughts you don’t have, when life is proceeding according to plan. I was thinking thoughts that came, when you had fallen through the cracks. I was considering things from a place where people don’t usually go, questioning everything from beneath life’s thin veneer. I wondered what I would have made of Rosa in my former incarnation. Would I have just passed her by, oblivious to her plight, mindless of those who had fallen through the cracks, in a hurry to fulfil all the needless tasks society required of me?
‘Well done, Nigel. That was nice of you.’
Valentina roused me from my deep thoughts.
‘I just wish I could do more for her. She really does seem like such a nice person, underneath her sadness. Hey, Valentina, who’s that big guy in the corner? He’s always here in the morning drinking wine.’
‘His name’s Robbie. He’s new to the area. In the morning he drinks wine, in the afternoon he starts on whiskey. I’ve never seen him drunk, though. He can really pack it away.’
‘No doubt from years of doing so. I used to be a bit of a drinker myself, but now I get wobbly after just a couple of glasses of wine. Maybe I need a bit more practice? Maybe I need to get in the habit of drinking more, too? Can you recommend some nice wine for me to drink in the morning?’
I was in good form. The stage was mine. Valentina laughed, and smiled her beautiful smile at me. She really was something.
‘I think you should leave that to Robbie. He drinks enough for the both of you.’
I smiled at her.
‘OK, good advice. You’re probably right. I’ll see you later, Valentina.’
‘Bye.’
I headed up to the park. My flat was a mess, I needed to do cleaning, washing, and ironing. The fridge was empty. The only food I had in the cupboard was for McGinty, my cat. I made sure that at least he never ran out. I knew I would have to eventually get organised, and get onto all that backlog of things to sort out, but in that moment all I wanted to do was to sit quietly, and relax in the sun. I sat on a bench, warmed by the delightful rays of the spring sunshine, and wondered where everything I was going through would lead me. In my late 50’s could I really begin again? Was it too late for me to build another life? Or was I just a foolish dreamer? My head was full of questions, but the answers were elusive. Maybe, with time, they would come into view, I would have better focus. I knew that I had to be resistant, it was all going to take time, a lot of time. Such a radical change in my life was going to require a lot of patience. I was fairly hopeful that, eventually, things would come right. If things proceeded well, I was cautiously optimistic that I could rebuild a life, a nice life. Probably not as complete as my former life, but something satisfactory. I was reasonably sure that it would still be possible for me to carve out a niche for myself. While I was at that time more in a holding pattern, a place of transition, I was confident that in the future I would be able to find myself somewhere good. I was feeling positive, not excessively so, but just enough.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone waving at me. It was Jana, sitting at a bench further around the park. I got up, and headed over to her.
‘Hey, Jana, I didn’t see you there. How are you?’
‘Hi Nigel, good thanks, and you?’
‘Pretty good. What’s that you are doing?’
Jana was sitting surrounded by file holders, and various sheets of paper. She sighed audibly, and a look of frustration came over her face.
‘Oh, it’s a real nightmare. Our residency permits expire soon, and I am trying to apply for further permission to stay here, on the grounds that we are the parents of an Italian citizen, Ariane. Luckily she was born here, otherwise it would be almost impossible for us.’
I nodded understandingly.
‘They always want a lot of paperwork here in Italy. It can be hard to navigate through it all.’
‘That’s for sure. Unfortunately, our case officer doesn’t seem to like us much. And that certainly doesn’t help.’
‘No? Why is that? What’s she like?’
‘She’s a single woman, in her late 40’s. She is always very well dressed, quite expensively, I would say. I thinks she has had a few cosmetic operations done. Definitely her breasts, they are enormous! Plus maybe a lifting. I get the idea she is trying desperately to hang onto her youth. Maybe she doesn’t like us because we are a bit younger, and already have an 8 year old daughter. I don’t think she has children of her own.’
‘Possibly. She could also be a bit racist. A lot of wealthy Italians are. Ordinary people here are quite accepting of immigrants, but rich people seem to be a bit snobbish, and don’t like the changes that are happening in Italy, well, all over Europe, really.’
‘Anyway, I don’t like to complain. It was our idea to come here, so we must accept things as they are. We are thankful for what this country has given us. I just hope we can manage to stay, and build a new life, for Ariane.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to leave Lebanon?’
‘No, not at all, Nigel. You are very kind, feel free to ask whatever you like. Where do I start? It’s all a bit complicated, really. I come from a Shia family, and Nassim is from a Sunni family. At first, when we got together that didn’t seem to be that much of a problem, but as time went on both our families became more and more bothered about it. In all of the middle east, that is the root cause of many wars, but, in Lebanon, people had always been more open to different religions, and ethnic backgrounds. That’s changing now. Everywhere things seem to be getting more radicalised, the more time goes by. Anyway, when I got pregnant both families really went crazy. Each of our families was determined that our child would be brought up in their religion.’
I was stunned by the complexity of her story.
‘Wow, what a complicated situation.’
‘Yes, we couldn’t really see a way out of the problem, so we decided to leave, and start a new life where there was more tolerance.’
‘Do you think Italy is a tolerant country?’
‘Oh, yes, for sure! We are treated very well here. Of course, there are some people who react badly to us, but that’s the case in any country. People will always find a reason to dislike others. All in all, Italian people are fantastic. We really love it here, and hope to be able to stay, if we can sort out this residency minefield!’
‘Isn’t there someone who can help you with all that?’
‘Yes, but the cost of preparing all the documentation is very high. We can’t afford that on Nassim’s wages. We will have to do it ourselves.’
‘OK, I see. Well, I’m really sorry about all that. I hope you manage to sort things out. Hey listen! Saturday afternoon why don’t you all come to the coffee shop for afternoon tea? From what I remember Lebanon has a bit of a tradition of tea drinking, doesn’t it?’
Jana threw back her head, and laughed.
‘Nigel, you are such an Anglo Saxon! Yes, sure we would love to come. Really, Lebanese people are more coffee drinkers, but we do like tea. It’s very nice of you to invite us.’
‘Great! Lets say around 4pm. Well, it was nice bumping into you, but I must be off to get some things sorted out. Bye for now, Jana.’
Jana waved to me as I walked off.
I headed back to Valentina’s coffee shop, to organise some little snacks for the Saturday afternoon tea party. Finding tasty food was not going to be a problem. I was in the right country for that, and Valentina kept up a good standard. As I was chatting with her, I noticed Robbie was still there, drinking his wine. After sorting out everything with Valentina, I thought I would introduce myself. I wandered over to his table.
‘Hi there, how’s things?’
‘What’s it to you?’
His abrasive answer was all that I needed to hear. I was feeling too upbeat to be assaulted by extreme negativity.
‘Absolutely nothing. Hey, forget it.’
I turned to leave.
‘Sorry, man, come on over. I’m really sorry, I’m usually a polite person, well, I used to be anyway. These days, probably not so much.’
His conciliatory tone made me change my mind.
‘That’s alright, we all have our good days, and bad days. I’m Nigel, you’re Robbie, right?’
‘Yeah, pleased to meet you.’
We shook hands, and I sat down. Looking at him a bit better, I saw that he was a big man, with the usual hefty belly, typical of the middle aged Italian male. They loved their food in Italy, although while the women somehow managed to stay in shape, the men tended to let themselves go. I glanced over at the slim, shapely body of Valentina. She caught my eye, and flashed me a smile. She really was incredibly beautiful. I turned my attention back to Robbie. His face was very lined, and he had massive bags under his eyes. The classic look of someone who drank far too much, and slept far too little. His face carried a sullen expression. His shoulders were hunched forward, giving him the look, and posture, of someone who was not at all in great shape. It was pretty evident that he was not in a very good period of his life.
‘I’ve just moved into the area, just down the road here. Valentina tells me you are new here as well?’
‘Yeah, I just moved in around the corner, a few months ago.’
‘Listen, Saturday afternoon I am having afternoon tea with some friends from the area. You are welcome to join us, if you like.’
‘I’m not very good company these days, and I don’t drink a lot of tea.’
‘Well, you can drink whatever you like. In any case, we will be here around 4 pm. Feel free to join us.’
‘Maybe.’
I left him with his wine, and sullen mood. Valentina cheerfully said goodbye, with such a pleasant demeanour that I was starting to wonder if she fancied me. Or maybe she was just being pleasant to a good customer? Probably us men always imagine sexual undertones when a woman is just being nice to us. If Italy was the right place for good food, it was paradise for beautiful women. Valentina was definitely heading the charge in those stakes. Without a doubt she would have already passed 50, but with her slim body, long black hair, and beautiful face, she could still turn a lot of heads, mine especially. Knowing full well how my mind would dwell on things incessantly, I knew that because I had started to have those thoughts in my head, I would end up fantasizing about her continually, and blowing it all out of proportion, for days to come. That was my way. Probably that was the way of most of the male sector of the species. Ever hopeful, no matter how hopeless the possibilities really were. Probably, almost certainly, I was just imagining the whole thing. But if that wasn’t the case, life could definitely get very interesting very fast. I had started. I could feel it. My obsession was on. There would be no stopping me. Although, on the other hand, if I was seeing things clearly, I certainly didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity like that. She really seemed to be a very sensual person, I was sure a physical encounter with her would be nothing short of incredible. However, I needed to be sure of exactly where I stood with her. I decided the best approach would be to let things develop, without sticking my head out too far, just in case I was wrong. I had already learnt the hard way just how complicated, and difficult to comprehend, relationships could be. For me, that is. Years earlier, when I had still been married, I had been the victim of some pretty bad incomprehension. My own.
I had always kept myself busy with physical exercise, and had liked keeping my mind active as well. To that end, I had signed up for an evening class, for adults, learning French. During that course I had met Monica. She was a petite little thing, with short, dark hair, cut in a sort of pageboy haircut. She was open, and friendly, with a great sense of humour. We had hit it off straight away, and had soon started meeting out of class, when time allowed, for coffees, and chats. At first it had just seemed to be a pleasant friendship, but it hadn’t taken long for things to develop further. Then we ended up sleeping together. She was single, and had a place in town, so it was easy to organise our meetings, without arousing any suspicions with my wife. Monica was ten years younger than me, incredibly beautiful, and was a very sensual woman. She drove me crazy. She had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. When she would look at me with those enticing brown eyes, I would be transfixed. I absolutely loved just looking at her. I was mesmerised by her. I was like a spider trapped in her web. We would talk about anything, and everything. Looking back on it with the benefit of hindsight, I guess I probably lost my head mainly because of the novelty of it all. Anyway, in short order I fell madly in love with Monica. When I was with her, I felt like I was alive, the blood was wildly pumping through my veins. Life, as it had been in my youth, had once again become an inestimable commodity, a beauty to behold. I realised that time was too precious to waste. I felt that I wanted to enjoy every moment of life, and I wanted to enjoy those moments with her. She was all I could think about. I was consumed with thoughts of her. Thoughts of the two of us together. It seemed to me that she was the perfect companion for me, and I wanted to start a new life, together with her. After we had been seeing each other for a few months I decided that it was time to take things to the next level. Monica had never put me under any pressure to separate from my wife, but I was convinced that it was what she, too, wanted. Admittedly, without too much planning, or even having discussed it at all with Monica, I put our plan, my plan, into action. One evening, over dinner, I casually told my wife about Monica, and the new life we wanted together. Her reply was very short, but rather succinct:
‘Get out!’
While I was obviously sorrowful about the end of my marriage, I couldn’t wait to get to Monica’s place, and tell her the good news. I quickly packed a bag, just with the bare essentials, and rapidly drove to see Monica. I was fairly bubbling over with uncontainable joy when I arrived at her place. I told her that I had revealed all to my wife, and that I had left her. Our new beginning had started. Or so I had thought. Big mistake.
‘What? Are you fucking crazy? The reason I wanted an affair with a married man was because I don’t want to be in a relationship.’ She was fuming. ‘You decided all this, on your own? Without even asking me first? Listen, I like you, the sex is great, but I don’t want any strings attached. Didn’t you get that? Now you have ruined everything. Why couldn’t you just leave things as they were? Or, at the very least, discuss it with me first. What made you think you knew what I want? I’m sorry Nigel, but it’s over between us.’
In a daze of confusion, I shortly found myself sitting in my car, not knowing what to do, or where to go. Barely an hour prior I had been in two relationships, and then, in the blink of an eye, I didn’t even have one. I was on my own, with nowhere to go, and absolutely no idea about what to do. How could I have misunderstood it all so badly? How could I have misread the situation so completely? I had felt so alone. I loved Monica so much, I felt I couldn’t live without her. Admittedly, I realised that she was right, and that I should have discussed it all with her, before making such an important decision. That had been very foolish. I understood that. However, the deep love I had felt towards her had blinded me completely. I had completely misread the whole situation. How could I have gotten it all so badly wrong? I had been sure that Monica had felt the same way as me, and had acted accordingly. Then I had found myself completely alone. I felt sick to my stomach, and my head was pounding. The new life I had been expecting to live had vanished, without a trace, and I found myself alone, desolate, sitting in my car, not knowing what to do. It seemed as if my life, as I had known it, had ended. I didn’t have a clue about where to go, or what to do. It had been a terrible period for me, and it had taken a long time to eventually sort things out. If nothing else, I had learnt a valuable lesson. The hard way. I certainly didn’t want to put myself through anything like that again. I was definitely going to play it cool with Valentina, given my lousy track record at understanding relationships. I decided that I would let her make the first move. And, probably, all the moves after that as well.