Part 8
Alone and free in his actions Joseph found his spirit was beginning to settle again. Maybe it was being in his homeland that did it, walking the streets in which he'd played as a boy. Familiar sights and smells, he was comfortable here, nobody questioned him, nobody watched his every move. And nobody knew of his current problems.
He walked early in the morning, when the mist was still rolling in from the sea, sat on the pier and watched the boats go out. It was then he thought of Clarisse – well in actual fact he thought of her every second of the day – but then it was the most poignant. Imagining her waking without him, wondering what she was doing with her day and jealous of the people who got to be near her. He had only himself to blame and at times the guilt was overwhelming. The thought that after fifteen years of dedication and silent adoration he had betrayed her trust, the thought that after so many years of lifeless marriage she had finally found love only for that love to turn around and let her down.
When Joseph had landed in Spain almost three weeks ago it had taken two days to pluck up the courage to go to Rico's house. Then another two to even get his brother to acknowledge him, he didn't tell him of his marital problems, that would only fuel the fire. In fact the only person he had spoken to over it was Elisa, his sister-in-law. He'd always liked her, felt sorry for her in some respects; she was a good woman with a not so good husband. Wasn't that always the way. She hadn't judged Joe or berated his behaviour, she was used to wayward husbands, she just listened. She was a straightforward, down the line woman, said what she thought and took no prisoners.
After three nights in a rather unpleasant hotel, a step down from the suite in London, Elisa had insisted he stay with them. It was an attic room that was too hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. Their two children were noisy and full of energy; the house was always filled with the smells of food and never tidy. But he liked it; it made him happy to be there among the chaos. Being part of it took his mind of the loss of Clarisse, at least for a little while.
His days had been full despite the initial awkwardness of his arrival. He volunteered for practically any event that was taking place, any odd job that needed doing he was there, the first man on the scene. He felt useful, he felt competent and whole again. Whatever happened between Clarisse and himself he knew he had to find something meaningful to occupy his time, because it didn't matter how much he loved her or how much she loved him it would help neither of them if he returned to that lazy state of mind.
He'd even taken to cooking; it was something he used to do a great deal as a child and even as a young man. His mother insisted on it, as the eldest boy he had no choice in the matter. Two older sisters married and out of the family home by the time they reached nineteen, another sister a year younger than Joe and Rico, the baby. Out of the five of them Rico was the only one still in the area they grew up in. Louisa, who Joe had always been closest to, had moved to America almost as soon as she escaped school. His eldest sister, Isabel, had died some years ago from cancer and Alita the middle one had been the dedicated housewife and followed her new husband to Germany.
Sometimes it saddened him just how far apart they'd grown, not just the physical distance but emotionally too. He could recall days spent playing in the fields behind the village, times when nothing was more important in the world than having a sandwich in your pocket and being out of the house before 8:30. Long summer days when everything was an adventure and so important and life changing – how simple it all looked to him now. If only he could stick a band-aid on it and return to the game.
"Up late this morning, slipping into palace ways again are we..." Elisa teased as he made his way down the stairs.
"Good morning sweet miss." He smiled winningly and kissed her forehead. "Any breakfast left?"
"You'll have to look, I haven't had time to clean up after the boys yet. Oh and a message from Rico, if you have the time he'd like your help at the building site. Winter's close."
"On the doorstep I'd say." He replied, looking out from the kitchen window to the garden. "If I have time..." He shook his head.
Elisa watched him as she tidied the couch and collected up the toys left on the floor. "How is she then?"
"Sorry?" He poured himself coffee from the pot.
"Her majesty, how is she? You were on the phone an awfully long time last night."
"I know. And please don't call her that."
"What would you prefer?"
"Her name might be a start." He sat down on one of the stools. "Right now she seems a world away."
"That's because she is, Genovia highlife is – why do you think it was so difficult for Rico to accept it. It's not like you married some local girl who had a bit of a history. She is history."
"I know that, I don't need reminding." He chewed on his toast. "I am trying to blend the two, it isn't easy."
"Hence the fact you're here I'd say."
He stared at her blankly.
"When were you thinking of going home?"
"Boring of me?"
"Hardly. Nice to have somebody to talk to." She sat across from him pouring herself a coffee. "And dance with, long time since Rico took the time to dance, with me anyhow..."
"You never forget." He smiled.
"You seem to have got better with age. Practice?"
"More like continual usage – we dance quite a lot, a hell of a lot." He couldn't help but look down at his hands remembering the feel of Clarisse's soft gentle fingers folded in his.
"So that was how you won her over then, dancing by candlelight. Or was it simply your natural charm?" She laughed.
"Hey!" He shook his head laughing with her. "Actually, I'm not sure what it was. Or how I managed it. When you meet her, when you see her smile or those eyes or hear her speak you'll know straight away why I fell in love with her. But I still see little reason for her looking at me..."
"Hey what is this? Feel sorry for Joe day! Come on, buck up, despite what a mess you made of recent events you're a pretty decent guy really. Sometimes. Most of the time." She smiled warmly and squeezed his hand. "So stop putting yourself down, how you ever going to win her back when you keep up this depression. You gotta win her over again."
"Not so easy when it's her trust I've got to win."
She shrugged. "Despite her status and money I'm sure her high and mighty... Clarisse, knows a good thing when she sees it. You're a keeper my boy, so finish up here and clear out. I need the space for a while. And quit this down in the dumps."
"Do you think, we'll ever get to a point where Rico will accept it?"
"Perhaps, in time. I certainly hope so, Christmas with the in-laws darling." She smiled adopting a posh voice. "How marvellous."
"No invite for you with that voice." He drained the last of his coffee and got up from his seat. "Right then, I'm off. Thanks for the chat, again."
"Do have a lovely day." She called from the lounge in her high-pitched snooty voice.
He was laughing as he left the house and made his way down the street.
It had been a long hard day, the weather was gradually getting worse, Joe's hands were frozen before he even got to where Rico was working which wasn't much use really. The good light was gone by 5:30 and Joe was set for going home, having a long bath and getting in bed with a book. His little brother had other ideas.
"I told you before, this is a great bar. But I'm perfectly happy sitting here." Joe emphasised his point by raising his glass and taking a drink. He didn't particularly enjoy beer but sitting there with Rico having an after work drink didn't really seem an opportune moment to have a glass of merlot.
"You should come and dance."
"I don't do this type of dancing I told you. Go, I'm fine here."
He watched as his younger brother made his way to the young lady that had been beckoning him then turned his back on the pair and directed his attention to the barman.
"Tell me, how did you end up working here?" Joe asked the young man.
He shrugged. "Mixture of good and bad luck I guess." He was Australian, large build, chiselled good looks, and a very distinguished accent. "Came over to work for the summer, ended up staying. It's not all bad. How about you?"
"I grew up here actually."
"You lost the accent."
Joe smiled. "I worked hard at losing it. Wasn't appropriate. Plus I moved around a lot, you pick things up."
"What is it you do?"
"Security, or was - I just retired."
"Ah right. Big change?"
"Very, just married too."
"Wow, busy year."
"Busy few months."
"Is your wife here then?"
"No, no she's... home. I'm visiting my brother."
"Quite a character Rico, always game for a laugh."
"Don't I know it."
"You staying long? Bet the wife is missing you."
Joe shrugged. "Yeah, I'm certainly missing her. But you know how things are... No you don't you're too young. I'll tell you something though; when you're young you imagine everything will be sorted by the time you reach my age. It will all make sense and you'll never get things wrong and trip yourself up," he smiled lazily. "Don't bet on it. That's all I'm saying."
He drained the rest of his beer. "You know I don't really enjoy this stuff."
"I did notice. You don't look like the beer type of man, something more – distinguished."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Do. Not tempted?" He asked indicating the two women that Rico was now dancing with.
Joe shook his head. "Not in the slightest, you get to a point when you realise sex is better when you care that it means something. I've done the other... I'm too old for it now. Not to put you off."
"Don't worry, it won't." he smiled and dropped the towel he was holding. "Well that's me for the night, thanks for the chat, makes a change."
"Thank you, enjoyed your company. I think it's time for me to get going too." He turned on his stool to look for Rico, still dancing, slow dancing between two girls. Joe recognised the song from years ago.
He made his way across to him and tapped his shoulder, leaning forward to whisper in his ear over the noise. "I'm off are you coming?"
"What! You're joking, why don't you stay, you might have some fun. She has a friend you see."
Joe nodded. "I know, I'm not interested you know that. I'll see you in the morning then?"
"Sure." Rico patted his shoulder. "Thanks for your help today."
"Anytime, you know that." It was the first time Joe could recall his little brother saying something truly positive to him since he arrived.
He left without another word and dug his hands into his pockets as the cold night air hit his body. The streets were almost empty, the hour late; he'd have to hurry back to catch Clarisse before she went to bed. He hadn't missed one call in the last three weeks, he wasn't about to now.
As he walked he hummed the song from the bar, recalling it's words. He'd have to get a copy when he got home, play it for Clarisse, dance with her to it. In the privacy of their rooms where role and decorum didn't play a part. How he missed her, just the scent of her skin, the warmth of her body next to his in bed at night.
That last evening in London, when they'd stood side by side watching the fireworks, all those hundreds of people and crowds on the hillside watching too. But for him it was just the two of them, and that aching gap forming between them. The pain on her face and in her voice. The taste of her tears when he kissed her cheek. Oh god, it still throbbed in his chest, still gagged in his throat. He couldn't help but question why the hell it had happened, what he'd been thinking – or not thinking as it turned out. Why he let the doubt inside him grow so big and swallow up every trace of happiness that had been so huge not two months before. He wanted it back, he wanted it all back, to erase time and return to the lake with her and wade in the water and make love through the night. And then nothing would matter; the world could drift away because his centre, his life would be there.
Realising he was crying openly Joe furiously wiped at his face with his gloved hand; it wouldn't do to get home looking like that. Wouldn't do at all. He took a few deep calming breaths as he reached the front door, gaining control before he went in to the warmth of the house. He would take a shower, have a glass of wine and call Clarisse and beg her to take him back. This separation had lasted far too long.
"When your baby leaves you all alone & nobody calls you on the phone don't you feel like crying? Don't you feel like crying, well here I am honey, cry to me. When you're all alone in your lonely room & there's nothing but the smell of her perfume, don't you feel like crying? Don't you feel like crying, well come on and cry to me. Nothing can be sadder than a glass of wine alone, loneliness; loneliness is such a waste of time. You don't ever have to walk alone, well come on take my hand & walk with me."