Is it possible to remember someone taller, better looking and completely different? Can beer goggles last that long? Had my fantasy taken over and I was remebering him how I wanted, rather than what was real? Maybe it was because I was firstly looking out for a man with a puppy and there were none on the station platform. He had asked me to join him AND his PUPPY. Then a man started walking towards me with a big grin and a fully grown dog. The man was Mac. Shorter, plumper, ruddier and balding. As I hugged him, he said "you probably didn't recognise me" and laughed. I looked down at his dog and Mac said "this is Ned". I said "Ned is not a puppy, he's awfully cute but not a puppy".
Mac looked guilty "I thought if I sent you a puppy photo it might persuade you to come up". Oh. I smiled. "thats very naughty... so what else did you fib about??" He looked at his feet. "the cottage hasn't got 2 bedrooms and its tiny".
Now, I'm not being all Jane Austen but when Mac had invited me up to the Lakes, he had asked me to come as a friend, that there was no pressure for anything else to happen and that the cottage was beautiful, isolated and had 2 bedrooms. I believed him, why wouldn't I? Although I had already thought I would jump in his bed anyway, I thought maybe the first night I could play a little hard to get and have a great nights sleep and wake up all fresh faced and beautiful. When we got to the "cottage" my mouth fell open. It was a little room tagged on to the end of a big house (probably a converted stable or something). It was one room essentially with a kitchenette and a shower room. There was nowhere to sit apart from two tiny kitchen chairs or on the bed. I looked at Mac "so where are you sleeping?" He laughed. "Mac, you said it was an isolated 2 bedroom cottage, not a 1 bedroom extension about half a mile from Keswick on the main road." Mac rolled his eyes. "Ok so its a bit small but anyway, we don't need two bedrooms do we?" I was cross. It wasn't about the dog or the room really, it was being lied to, being made to look like a mug, being put in a situation that I wasn't prepared for. The view WAS rather nice though.
Whilst I was there, there were some genuinely hilarious moments, however. Having come to terms with the situation and acknowledging that I probably would have slept with Mac anyway, we went to bed early. I was aware the dog was watching and asked Mac to put him outside. "But its raining and poor Neddy will get all wet, won't you Ned, and we can't have that, no we can't. Because then you'll smell all wet doggy won't you and that won't be very nice will it? Does Auntie Jules mind you staying here if you are nice and quiet and lie down, there's a good boy... down Ned". Right, lets get things straight... do not start having a conversation with your dog whilst in the middle of foreplay, nor talk to it like a human, nor be cutesy with it and NEVER call me Auntie Jules to a dog! Just put the dog out-bloody-side!!!! When I realised Ned's feeling were more important than mine, another black mark went against Mac. Ned stayed. Sex continued for a few minutes until we heard Ned whining. "Oh for fucks sake Mac, put the bloody dog outside, I cannot do this with him inches away, whining!!" Mac rolled off me and sighed loudly. He then got up and wrapped a towel around his waist and went outside. He came back a few minutes later with a huge dog cage and put it against the wall. "Ned, in your cage. Daddy wants some sex!" Oh. My. God. Daddy?? Please NO!!
The whole thing had slightly put me off but Ned stayed in the cage, looking pissed off, whilst Mac grunted out the sound of the whining. It wasn't the reunion I had dreamt of!!
A few minutes later Ned was happily let out of his cage and paced the room with terrible dog breath. Poor Ned, I thought. He was a three year old red blooded male, not spayed and was forced to watch two humans copulate, how utterly revolting and frustrating for him. I wasn't sure who I had more sympathy for, him or myself. Mac was lying next to me with a huge smirk "still got it heh?" he grinned. "well to be honest, the atmosphere was slightly ruined by your whining, smelly dog. I couldn't tell who was panting, him or you!" He chuckled. "Well, I promise, back in London, I won't bring him to our next date, OK?" So, the conversation was already happening. What would happen after the weekend?
I had presumed, naively, that his two years of his (unanswered) emails to me meant that he was available, single even. I had not continued the relationship back in 2007 because I'd found out he was still living with his wife! I felt let down, humiliated and used back then, and wanted no part of a relationship where I was the other woman, the mistress, the tramp. I morally didn't like the idea and hated the thought of his wife and kids finding out and being hurt. I told Mac exactly how it made me feel and ended it. But here I was, lying next to Mac and out of his mouth was coming what I dreaded. He was still living at home with his wife and kids and was pretty happy, generally. He loved her still but was sleeping in a separate bedroom and hadn't had sex since he last saw me. I felt sick. I would never have gone up to Lakes if I had thought his marriage and living situation hadn't moved on and changed. "But what did you expect me to think?" I asked, "you knew how I felt two years ago... I told you I would never get involved with a married man, no matter what his living situation, I wouldn't be that person, and yet here you are, having lied to me about the dog, the cottage and now you tell me that you're still living at home etc. What did you think would happen Mac? Why am I here?" He looked sad. "I just thought we could pick up from where we left off and then be friends back in London, you know, the occasional dinner, maybe a night in a hotel, a weekend away, you know?" "A mistress you mean?" I said. "Well, if you want to put it like that.. then yes".
The thing is, I know a lot of women might read this and think, well what's the problem? He is virtually separated from his wife, they have separate bedrooms, they don't sleep together, just have some fun. I used to think that too... until all I could think about was how devastated his wife and kids would be if they found out. Maybe I'm too empathetic and should be more selfish but I just couldn't do it!! I looked at Mac. "You know that's never going to happen don't you? I haven't changed how I feel. I want babies and a family and a country cottage and your plan doesn't come anywhere near that. I won't be your bit on the side Mac. Never."
We didn't speak about it again until my last day.
Yes, I stayed up there. I thought I might enjoy a few days with him and see it as a last goodbye, if you will. We talked about everything but us. He asked me about having children, about my plan to maybe use a sperm donor. It actually caused a bit of a row. Two years ago when he first suggested me being his mistress, he suggested he buy or rent a little cottage and I could have his child and he would look after me and it would all be blissful. Now as he asked me about children, he said "God, I could never have more children, wouldn't want any, I'm way too old!" I reminded him of what he'd said two years ago and he looked genuinely surprised. "So, if I had decided that this time it would work out between us, how would you have dealt with me wanting a child??" He looked blank and said "Well, it doesn't matter because we're just going to be friends anyway. But I can still help out you know". "What do you mean" I said, "with the baby?" "God no, I mean I could drive you around if you need to do the shopping and stuff!" Oh thanks Mac.
We went on long walks and didn't speak, comfortable in each others silences. The Lakes are simply beautiful and being in a different part to where my family's house is (southern lakes) was amazing. The walks were staggering. Walking around Buttermere and Bassenthwaite took my mind off everything.
We went for pub lunches and evening meals in out of the way taverns. It was quite lovely but every few hours, reality would hit and we'd either become angry or sad with each other. He, more sad for me not wanting him under any circumstances. Me, more angry for having such high expectations that things would be different. Sad at my life staying the same. Sad that he lied, angry that he thought so little of me morally.
And when I get angry, everything starts pissing me off. I started noticing little foibles about him that I'd never noticed before. Apart from the initial shock of him having put on so much weight and generally looking very frumpy, middle ages and saggy, I noticed that he blows his nose constantly. A really loud, quick, sharp blow on a blue spotted hankie, almost every 5 minutes. Hankie, crusty and wet at the end of the day, placed on the bedside table and once, put on the kitchen table over breakfast until my look of fury made him put it back in his pocket. He chews with his mouth open and speaks with his mouth full so that little sprays of food shoot over the table and onto me or my plate during meals. He has admittedly reached middle age and in doing so, has started wearing his boxers and jeans above his waist line!! Why why why why do men do this after a certain age?? In fact all the things that were irritating me were things my father also does now he's getting older. Oh no!!!!
The worst thing, the most annoying, irritating, clenched fist inducing habit he has though is not knowing the width of his car. Mac would brake as soon as a car approached from the other direction and he would shout "all right on my side" when there was about a metre gap. He would slam on his brakes and wonder why so many other drivers were shaking their heads at him or shouting "get over, you wanker!" Not only does this constant braking and swerving make you feel a little car sick, it makes the journey so long!! The lovely narrow country lanes were a nightmare. The general rule on single lane roads are that whoever can stop most conveniently, stops in a space wide enough for two cars and lets the approaching car continue past. Mac did not understand this. On one steep hill, he slammed on his breaks as a car came towards us. The man found a wider bit of road and flashed Mac to continue uphill and pass him but Mac thought he was in a wider space (even though he was right in the middle of the road, scared he might scratch his paintwork if he got too far to the hedge) and flashed the man back. This continued several times with each flash of the mans lights getting more frantic. I shouted "Mac, just go, his place is wider, he can't pass you here!" which he ignored. Finally the man gave up and had to mount the grassy verge as he passed Macs car shouting as he passed "you fucking tosser, where'd you learn to drive?". I smirked out of the window, making sure Mac didn't see me. He was absolutely furious and screamed back "what.. you fuck! Come back here and say that!!" For the next half an hour he screamed every expletive known to man. I probably didn't help things when I said "Maybe honey, it would help if you just sped up a bit and didn't keep slamming on the brakes!" Oops. I then had the tirade for about ten minutes.
On our last day, there were tears (mine) and shouting (mine) and pleading (his). I'm still not sure how we exactly left it. He wants to be friends. I can't be friends. Never have been able to the "friends" thing with exes of any kind. Once I've been intimate with someone and had such strong feelings, I can't seem to go a step backwards. Maybe that's something i can change, I don't know.
What I do feel is incredibly disappointed, a little foolish and very sad. What could have been a new chapter in my life has left me feeling more alone than before. Back to Plan A I suppose. On Saturday I am going to the London Women's Clinic to attend an Inseminar (very witty) and learn about sperm donors. If I want a happy life, I would like a baby in it, whether thats alone or not.
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