The 4oth Anniversary of a Deal
written by: Joe Cushnan
‘If we’re lucky enough to be alive on our fortieth wedding anniversary, then we’ll call it a day. We’ll go our separate ways. We’ll spend the rest of our lives doing our own thing. We’ll have achieved something special together, but we must draw a line and become free spirits in whatever time we each have left.’
That was the deal made in 1979 between Michael and Gwen. She had insisted they write it down, sign it like a contract, and, for dramatic effect, prick each other’s thumbs to seal it in blood.
On the eve of the anniversary in 2018, they sat in the pub, each of them wondering who was going to say anything about the agreement. They talked about the weather and litter, and the nature programme they had watched the night before. But neither of them made any comment about it until the day was almost over.
‘Just over an hour to midnight,’ Michael said.
Gwen looked away and made a trivial observation about the tatty wallpaper near a bay window. Michael held her arm.
‘We don’t have to go through with a silly agreement made forty years ago.’
Gwen turned to look him in the eyes. ‘Here we go again,’ she said. ‘Every time I’ve brought it up over the years, you’ve rolled your eyes.’ She gripped his hand as tightly as she could. ‘We agreed.’
‘We were very immature in those days.’
‘Perhaps. But I want to honour the agreement,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve wanted to leave for years, but I was too much of a coward to say so.’
Michael released her hand and settled back in the chair. He inhaled deeply, let out a slow sigh, and shook his head.
‘What? Why? Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I thought we were happy together. The kids. The grandkids. A nice home.’
Gwen took his hand again, but he pulled it away.
‘We were content,’ she said. ‘Comfortable. But not always happy. I felt there must be more to life than just marriage – you know, being married to the same person forever.’
Michael was close to tears. ‘But,’ he said, then fell silent.
The walk home along their street was awkward. They usually held hands, but not on this night. They had always chatted and giggled, but not this time. When they reached their front door, Michael held Gwen by the shoulders.
‘Please, Gwen,’ he said, ‘let’s not do anything stupid. We can work this out. Let’s sleep on it.’
Gwen backed away. ‘No, Michael. It’s what I want. I have a case packed already. I’ll sleep in the spare room tonight. In the morning I’m going to my sister’s. She said I could stay for a while until we sort out the house, savings, and things.’
‘You have a case packed?’ said Michael.
‘I wanted to be ready for a quick goodbye. I know that sounds cold and cruel, but the last thing we need is for this to be any more awkward than it already is.’
Once inside, they went to their separate rooms without saying another word.
Michael lay awake all night in their double bed. From time to time, he ran his hand over Gwen’s side. They had made love here, comforted each other here, laughed and cried here at various times in their long marriage. He could hear Gwen tossing and turning in the next room.
She thought about what she was about to do, but refused to succumb to any remorse. It was an end and a beginning.
Her alarm clock sounded at six o’clock. She got up, showered, dressed, and had breakfast. Michael appeared at the kitchen door. He looked exhausted, standing in his pyjamas, hair sticking up, his baggy eyes drooping like a bloodhound’s.
‘I never thought this day would actually come. Never.’
He poured himself a cup of tea. As he sat down, Gwen stood up.
‘I’ll be off now. I just heard the taxi. There’s a lot of things we have to do to make this amicable.’ She blew Michael a kiss. ‘Goodbye, love.’
Michael stared at the table and didn’t say a word or make a gesture. He heard the front door close and the taxi drive away. After a few moments, he walked to the living room and looked at his hangdog self in the mirror. Gradually, his frown turned to a faint smile and then a teeth-baring grin. He clenched his fist, punched the air, and shouted a triumphant ‘Yessssss!’
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