From the beginning to the end

Claire gritted her teeth, her hands curling into fists, her nails digging into her palm, leaving imprints.

How could he leave her like this?  A thousand memories swirled around her head, mingling with the anger she felt.

They’d met at school, proper high school sweethearts.  He was in the year above.  She’d been buying sweets at the tuck shop there, only she’d realised she hadn’t enough change.  In the queue behind her, he’d paid for her items, mainly so she’d get out of his way! 

They’d met again accidentally the following evening, both outside the local chippy, each with their own gang of friends.  She’d bought him a chip butty to thank him, and as all their friends had dispersed, they’d remained there, sat on the wall, sharing the chips, and anecdotes about their teachers.  Both had hated maths, but whilst Claire enjoyed science, Tom had preferred his history lessons.  He’d been Mr Popular, she was considered the shy nerd of the class, it shouldn’t have worked but it did.  It had taken him another two weeks to ask her on a date though!

They’d gone to the local cinema, to watch ‘Star Wars’, the big blockbuster that everyone was talking about.  Although she’d wanted desperately to see it, Claire was soon distracted about the way Tom lifted her hand from her lap, intertwining his fingers with hers, and keeping hold of it, never taking his gaze from the screen.  Despite the dark, Claire could see his Adam’s apple bobbing, and realised with a shock, he was as nervous as she was! 

Their second date had been even more surprising.  He’d taken her for a meal - it had seemed so glamorous, even though it was only a local burger bar.  A place Claire’s father had refused to take her, he didn’t like ‘the Americanisms that were appearing everywhere’.  Sitting on a red plastic stool, she’d felt such a rebel! Tom walked her home afterwards, pausing at the streetlight on the corner. She’d turned to ask him what was wrong, but he’d leaned down, gently pressing his lips to hers.  Her first kiss! They’d walked side by side to her front door, Tom risking a quick hug, leaving abruptly before her parents saw.

Once his O levels were over, he’d gone to work with his father, in their plumbing business.  She didn’t see him much, and when she did he was tired, and to her dismay, very snappy with her.  After one particularly bad argument, Claire stormed off.  Two whole weeks had gone by, she didn’t hear a word from him.  Her friend gleefully reported that he’d been seen with his arm around ‘big tits Sally’, a girl from his school year.  Claire felt her heart breaking.  She struggled to eat, and to concentrate in school.  She knew her teachers were becoming concerned.

Then, one day she arrived home, to find him sitting on her doorstep.  He’d requested her to walk with him, at first she’d gone to refuse, how dare he have the nerve! But one look at his tear stained face, and she’d swallowed her indignant reply.

He’d finished training now.  It had been hard, so much harder than he’d expected, despite growing up around the family business.  His father was a hard taskmaster.  He was sorry for not calling for her earlier. He had a proper wage now, could afford to take her to better places, if she’d let him?

Claire felt her fury returning. “And what about big tits? Don’t tell me you weren’t seeing her? People saw you together! How could you? Bloody ‘big tit sally’ of all people? I’ve heard what she’s like, everyone knows her reputation!”

He’d looked at her.  His eyes were hard.

“Please don’t call her that”

“Why? Afraid of the truth? Or are you going to tell me you had sex, dumped her and now trying to get me back?” she’d taunted.

“She’s my cousin” he’d replied quietly.

Claire had been mortified! She’d apologised profusely, hating herself.  She’d agreed to be his girlfriend again, anything to get rid of the image of his face as he’d listened to her jealous tirade.

When Claire had left school, she’d hoped to go to university to train as a teacher, but her parents had other plans, and she’d found herself working as a secretary for a local law firm.  It was a respectable job with a good wage they’d insisted.

With two lots of money coming in. Tom and Claire began saving for a marriage, and a deposit for a flat in town.  Their friends moaned they were getting boring, trying to drag them out to various discos, but they both kept resolute, only joining in on rare ‘special’ occasions.

The wedding day was fairly uneventful as weddings go.  Claire’s mouth quirked as she remembered her dress, or rather, the arguments leading up to it.  Claire’s mother had wanted her to wear her dress, one that her mother had also worn.  Claire had been horrified at how old fashioned it was, it would be considered vintage and the height of fashion these days, how ironic! Instead she’d put up a fight for something modern.  They had eventually compromised and instead of the shorter, cream concoction she’d spotted in the bridal shop window, she had eventually ended up with something long white and flowing (comfortable, modest and signalling virginity according to her mother and maiden aunt) but looking at the wedding photos these days, it resembled a nightgown and made her look like she’d just rolled out of bed! 

The service was in a church, with a long sermon delivered by a dour vicar. Tom had rolled his eyes at Claire several times, causing her to giggle and the congregation to frown in annoyance at their disrespect. Later, at the reception, his father had got drunk, dancing with several ladies including Claire’s own aunt.  Claire’s mother had acted like she would never live down the scandal of it all!

Then the babies had come, two of them, a boy followed by a girl 18 months later.  There had been another pregnancy, but the loss at six months gone, the pain of which had caused Claire to cry herself to sleep at night, and her husband to wring his hands and become uncharacteristically silent in her presence.  As was normal at the time, Claire gave up work during her first pregnancy and threw herself into becoming a housewife.  The novelty didn’t last long - the tiredness and struggling to cope with a toddler and a baby caused arguments which had led to Tom working longer and longer days.  At least it was work initially - she had discovered the affair with his secretary a few months in.  He had left home for a while, long enough for Claire to find herself a part time job as an administration assistant in a local estate agency.

When they did reunite, Tom seemed surprised at the changes she had made to their former life.  A neighbour collected the children from school on the three days she worked, and she also made time for regular visits to the local hairdressers.  Shamed at work for his previous actions, Tom was moved to a different department with reduced hours, whilst Claire found herself promoted after earning respect from her bosses at the agency.  

The years went by and the children grew up.  Their son, Jason gained a place at university and left home, whilst Amy experienced all the teenage girl dramas of friends, boyfriends and exams.  Tom and Claire found themselves middle aged, in a quietly pleasant, if slightly humdrum life.  As another Christmas approached, plans began for the annual office parties.

Claire remembered the new red dress she’d bought for the occasion, she’d zipped it up and gave a little twirl in front of the mirror.  Pleased with her appearance, she’d hurried into the living room to show Tom.  He’d been sat on the sofa with a beer in his hand.  He’d barely lifted his eyes from the tv screen.  Despite her cajoling, he’d refused to go with her, claiming exhaustion.

Claire was angry, so angry! He’d known she had been looking forward to it! She’d gone alone to the party, excusing the absence of her husband to a sudden illness, no nothing serious, just overworked...

Her boss had appreciated her new dress, even if Tom hadn’t.  He’d bought her several glasses of wine and told her how pleased he was with her progress, how glad that she had joined the team.  Claire’s fury at Tom, coupled with the wine and flattery, meant she’d found herself on her way to her boss’s house at the end of the evening.

She had made her way home the following morning, racked with guilt.  Keeping her actions from Tom hadn’t been an option, she’d had to tell him.

His reaction hadn’t been what she’d expected, he’d seemed resigned, which somehow made her shame worse. 

Tom had started to drink more, he often enjoyed a beer at weekends or after particularly stressful days at work but Claire noticed he often had a can in hand when she returned from work.  She had tried to reason with him but he took no notice.  Even after she’d opened his mail to find a letter from his bosses subjecting him to disciplinary action following the number of sick days he’d taken - Claire hadn’t even been aware!

Just like she hadn’t been aware when he did attend the disciplinary meeting after all.  She’d only found out about it after the police had shown up at her work.  

Driving himself to the meeting where he was promptly sacked for his aggressive behaviour, Tom had gone to a nearby pub to console himself before making his way home. Except it hadn’t happened. 

Taking a deep breath, Claire opened her eyes.  She was still in the same room. She rested her hands, and then her forehead, on the lid of the coffin in front of her.

“Goodbye my love”