She knew he should not be in her mind. He should not occupy such a space, but she could not get him out of her head. And it wasn't love - she knew that. Lust perhaps...maybe...but she was not sure that she could call it that either.
Ann knew that he liked her, understood that he wanted her. But, did she want him? Possibly, somewhere far away in the back of her mind, in her wildest imaginings, she might have.
NO.
She could never betray Martin. NEVER. Even if she entertained the odd fantasy or two, Martin was hers, ever steady and ever faithful.
How could she - knowing how he felt at the thought of his own imagined infidelity - that week in Bruges? It had destroyed Martin - believing that he cheated on her, had broken their marriage vows. The relief he felt when the horrible prank had been discovered was palpable.
It was not something she could do to him.
Ann felt ridiculous even thinking about the possibility. If Paul had thought of her as more than a casual fling, more than the untouchable woman, the wife of the man next door, if he had loved her, then why did he not come after her? Why was he not in Oswestry right now?
It's because he's a good man. Paul. He's good. He does not want to destroya marriage - a family now. He likes Martin, thinks of him as a fellow bloke really. And, he's good to you too, Ann. He cares about other people,Ann thought to herself.
But you want something, don't you, Ann? She asked herself as she unlocked their front door. She sighed as she entered their house,walking through to theirliving room. Ann glanced at the wedding photo that rested on their mantle in its gilded frame. She ran a hand over Martin's face in the image. She smiled at him, softly, tenderly, with all the love she could muster.
She put her lips to the image of his forehead. "Know that I love you, Martin," shewhispered, "no matter what I might do, I will always love you."
The phone rang at that moment. Ann placed the frame down and went to the hallway tograb it.
As if he knew that she was thinking about him, as if he knew she needed someone,he had called her.
It was Paul.
"Hello, Ann,"heexclaimed, sounding jovial. "I haven't seen you Bryces in quite some time. Fancy lunch one afternoon? Martin, Marnie, you, and I? What say? Come back to the Close for a little while to see what's changed?" Paul prattled on hoping to see his friends return for an afternoon.
Annlet out the breath she had not realized she had been holding. "Paul…" she exhaled, "it's good to hear your voice."
"Yours too, Ann," he chuckled. He did not realize how much she had needed someone in that moment. "So, how about it? Could you all do Wednesday? How does that sound?"
Ann twirled her finger around the phone cord. "Yes…Yes…" she exclaimed a bit too eagerly. "Wednesday is perfect. I…I mean…we can make Wednesday."
Paul laughed. "Well, good then. See you Wednesday. Goodbye." With that, he hung up.
Ann breathed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. She went to sit on the sofa in the living room, bringing her knees up to her chest and pulling the sleeves of her sweat shirt over her hands. "What are you doing Ann?" She wondered aloud. "Nothing," she answered herself.
About twenty minutes later, Martin arrived, strolling Marian through the front door. The break in the weather was a fleeting one. It had begun to pour. Father and daughter had just made it inside just in time.
"Well, that was lucky," Martin exclaimed, gesturing outside the door. "It's really coming down now." He removed his jacket and then carefully undid the straps to let Marian free from the stroller.
"Come on now love," he chimed, picking up his daughter, "let's see if we can go find your mum."
He walked through to the living room and took in the sight of his wife. She looked small somehow…somehow less than herself. He wondered if he had done something to upset her. When she got in one of her states, it was usually out of annoyance with him.
Noticing the presence of her husband and daughter, Ann looked up and smiled at them. "I turned it off," she said sheepishly, trying to appear as genuine as possible. In truth, nothing had been left on. She just needed to escape.
"Turned what off, love?" Martin asked, coming to sit on his brown leather chair, holding Marian in his lap, content to be home to play with her.
"The electric kettle," Ann supplied, "I knew I had left it on." She heard the rain beating against their windows. "It appears you both made it home just in time. Seems like an awful storm out there now." Her eyes gazed out the window, a vacant expression on her face.
"Quite right, Ann," Martin acknowledged, looking at her closely. She looked sad in a way, and he wondered if that was true. Perhaps, he was just reading into things.
Martin stood up and moved to sit beside her on the couch, carrying Marnie with him. He held Ann's hand, looking down at her ring and then meeting her eyes. "Look Ann, is there anything…" he began.
She looked away and then cut him off, standing up and walking to the bay window that overlooked their back garden. "Paul phoned," she mentioned casually. "I told him we could meet him for lunch on Wednesday."
"Wednesday won't work, love. I have that meeting to go to," Martin answered, lightly bouncing Marian on his lap.
"Oh…" Ann muttered, staring out of the window and watching the water beat mercilessly upon her rose bushes. She placed her hand on the glass, feeling the cold from the rainwater tapping upon it. "I could go for the day. Take Marnie with me. Could be a bit of an outing for the both of us." She turned and grinned at her husband. "Plus, as I know all too well, you are not so terribly fond of Paul, if truth be known."
Martin shook his head in disagreement. "I like Paul well enough. Almost. At times. At certain times. In certain circumstances. If he could just behave like a normal man, not some golden boy all the time, we would have no problems," Martin supplied, pausing between each sentence.
Marnie reached for her mother, growing tired of her father's bouncing and giving out a small squeal for attention.
"Marian wants you, love," Martin said as he passed their daughter off to Ann.
Ann sat down on the burgundy recliner next to the couch, smoothing Marnie's hair to settle her. She hoped that rocking Marnie would keep her baby asleep the whole night through…and…Ann thought, it may provide her mother some form of comfort, some semblance of happiness.
"So, do you mind if I go?" Ann asked Martin. Although she knew she did not need his permission (and by what right did he really have to deny her anyways?), Ann felt better for asking. She did not want to upset Martin. She cared for her husband, his opinions, his feelings. It was love, plain and simple, or that's what she promised herself it was anyways.
"No, no," Martin affirmed. "Not at all. Get out of the house for the day. You would like that, wouldn't you love?" Martin gave her one of his goofy smiles.
Ann returned his smile and reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Yes, I would," she replied.
So, on Wednesday, Ann would return to the Close. Return to Paul. Nothing would happen, she promised herself.
I just need the break. I love Martin. I just need to talk to someone different. I am happy with my life here in Oswestry.
Then, why do you feel otherwise? Why do you feel nothing?
She hated this war between herself.
….
Wednesday arrived, and Ann found herself in the Dormobile heading back to their old Close. Marnie gurgled away in her car seat, playing with a stuffed white rabbit her father had bought her.
They were not meeting Paul at their usual pub. This address he had given her was unfamiliar to Ann. When she pulled up in the parking lot, she was stunned to find a rather nice restaurant. Certainly, it was one she and Martin had never been to in all their time living here.
She felt rather strange, bringing a baby to a place like this one. She was not entirely sure Marnie would be welcome – what with her pram and all.
Parking the Dormobile, Ann hopped out of the front seat.
Sitting in his car, Paul immediately noticed that she was there. He was even more surprised that Martin had not popped out of the passenger's side. Curious, Paul thought to himself. Usually Martin would not let Ann out of his sight when it came to him.
Paul walked up to Ann as she opened the trunk to get the pram out. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and she turned to face him. Ann's eyes lit up, and she embraced him. "Paul," she exclaimed, smiling radiantly, "it's been too long."
"Hello, Ann," Paul replied in his usual charming manner. "I hope this place is okay. Here, let me," he offered, moving to get the pram out of the trunk while Ann tended to Marnie.
Paul watched her settle her daughter in the stroller. She seemed so at ease, so natural with the baby. Motherhood had certainly softened Ann, or so he thought. He noticed her features seemed gentler, more delicate, and the rough corners of her lips more yielding. And yet he also thought she seemed sadder, more downcast than he had known her previously.
Ann was a bit nervous. She eyed the restaurant cautiously. "This doesn't seem the place that would welcome children," she mentioned offhandedly.
"Well, it's not the restaurant I had in mind. It's just the parking is better here. I want to go to the little café around the corner. It's not that far of a walk," Paul explained.
Ann breathed a sigh of relief. For a minute, she thought that this meeting could have been a date, but then she remembered her husband had been invited as well. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to hide her embarrassment.
"Did Martin not come with you?" Paul asked casually.
"No," she answered, "he had a meeting to attend. But he thought it may do me some good to get out of the house. Go on an outing with Marnie…even if it is to lunch with you." A sneaking smile crept onto her face as she added the last comment.
Paul smirked.
They walked towards the restaurant; Ann pushing the pram contentedly. She felt an ease with Paul that she had not felt in quite some time – a comfortable sensation, a warm reaction. It was simple, to be with him like this – this casual friendship and occasional flirting.
She had come to expect this from Paul – this affection she had for him and he for her. She wondered why it was so simple with him.
And yet. And yet. She knew that she was faking everything. Every smile, every laugh, every single thing. Whatever it was that troubled her was still with her.
Ann wondered if Paul could heal her – if perhaps he was the key. Or was it Martin? Had it always been Martin, or was it Paul who could protect her heart, make her feel alive? She wondered if either man had noticed.
They arrived at the restaurant, a small café where Paul had reservations at the corner table. It was a modest place - warm and intimate - quiet. There did not appear to be much of a crowd that afternoon.
Ann pushed the pram towards their table, eyeing her surroundings. She smiled softly; she liked this place. It suited her, and Paul knew it, smirking to himself as he pulled out her chair for her.
"Like it?" he asked.
"The ambience - yes," she replied. "But that's only one check for this restaurant," she smirked back at him. "What about the food?"
"Excellent," Paul answered. "At least, I think it is. They make a good cup of tea, and that's half the battle, isn't it?"
"Quite," Ann laughed, "so long as they don't charge an arm and a leg for it."
"No," Paul said as he perused the menu, "they don't."
Marnie eyed her mother and this strange man from her pram. Her eyes scanned back and forth between the two. She was not quite sure what to make of the man. Although, she had met him before - Marnie did not remember him, not a trace of recognition swept across her sweet face.
Paul watched the little girl looking at him. "She's watching me, sizing me up," Paul mentioned, gesturing down to Marnie. "She's got rather a serious expression on her face."
Ann gently brushed Marnie's cheek, smiling. Marnie took her mother's finger, holding it for a moment, and the girl's features softened. Ann chuckled. "She's always serious, rather like Martin. I'm not quite sure she trusts you," she said to Paul.
"Just like her father then," Paul deadpanned.
Ann nodded her head. "Well, Marnie's more like Martin, reminds me of him constantly, even though she looks like me."
A waiter interrupted their conversation, and the two ordered their meals. A grilled chicken salad for Ann, and an open-faced hot roast beef sandwich for Paul. The waiter disappeared.
Ann bit her lip, watching her daughter. "She and Martin have a rather special relationship, a strong bond, really." She stopped, hesitated a moment before continuing.
Paul picked up on it, raising a brow slightly and waiting for his companion to continue.
"I'm almost jealous," Ann admitted. She turned her attention to Paul, placing her chin on her hand, elbow on the table. She was not entirely concerned with manners at this moment. "It sounds horrible - to be jealous of my own daughter. I love her desperately, but, oh, I don't know. Sounds silly, really, now that I've said it aloud."
"No," Paul replied. "It's not." He took a moment and stared into her eyes. He wondered what he found different about her. Where was that old fire he had once seen in her? He wanted to phrase his next question carefully. He had no desire to be accused of prying or pushing her away, especially when appeared she needed to talk to someone. "Ann, is something the matter?" He decided to leave it at that.
"What do you mean?" she asked, looking away.
"Well, you seem a little - I don't know how to phrase it - off, perhaps. Is everything okay? Nothing happened between you and Martin did it?" He looked almost hopeful.
Ann noticed that face. She decided to joke. "No," she raised a brow "at least certainly nothing that you would hope for," she replied cheekily. "Martin and I are fine, I suppose. I am fine, just bored, I gather," Ann answered. In truth, she did not know herself what was wrong with her - why she felt the way she did. She knew it was more than mere boredom. She was sad, and she did not know why. She missed Martin, missed Paul, missed Howard and Hilda, missed everything that had once made her happy. But, why, when she saw Martin every day? Why did she feel as if he was distant, working all the time, further away from her?
Or was it she who was distancing him? Pushing him away? Had her snapping at him made him fearful to address her? Was Martin walking on eggshells around her?
Then, why was he willing to let her go on a lunch with Paul, his, at times, arch nemesis?
Ann pushed away the thoughts as the two finished their meal. Standing and pulling out her chair, Paul watched Ann smile demurely, not meeting his eyes. "So..." Paul began, drawing out the word. "What's next? Are you heading back to Oswestry or do you have time to pop over to my place for a coffee?"
She gave him a look. He raised his hands in an acquiescing manner. "Only coffee," he announced. "I swear on my reputation as a gentleman."
Ann chuckled. "You're harmless, aren't you?" She said as she pushed the pram out of the cafe's door and began to get Marnie into the Dormobile.
"I hope I'm not harmless," Paul laughed, "I just think you may need a friend to talk to, that's all." He helped her lug the pram into the trunk. "Plus, maybe, if you came over, Marnie here would get to know me and stop giving me those looks."
"Well, I wouldn't mind a coffee and a chat," Ann admitted. "Though, I'm not sure if you are going to get on Marnie's good side." Ann placed a kiss on her daughter's nose after buckling her in the car seat. "She's too much like her father."
"So, meet you at my place?"Paul asked hopefully.
"Sure," Ann agreed.