Page 93 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

There was tension across his back. Suddenly this hill was much more than a physical challenge. It was a metaphor for the rest of his life. To live well he needed to feel well in his own skin. To feel well in his own skin demanded confidence. To get that confidence he needed to succeed in this hill climb. He needed to build on his success at story time and his tentative visits to speakers’ club. As the momentum diminished, he forced his legs to pump. The gear changes were smooth. He didn’t look towards the crest, only at the road in front of him. His quads began to object and there was no longer enough downward thrust into the pedals. Already in the lowest gear, he stood on the pedals. He was aware of his heart, his lungs and his grip on the handlebars. Ahead he spotted the pothole that had thrown him before. He glanced over his shoulder, ready to move nearer to the middle of the road and smoother tarmac. A lorry was about to overtake him. There was nowhere to go. If he slowed his speed to move out after the lorry passed, he’d wobble and fall. If he continued, the pothole would throw him again.

At the last minute, Stuart saw the way and turned the handle bars slightly to the left, towards the narrow strip of compacted mud between the pothole and the ditch. As the lorry disappeared over the hill, Stuart pulled back out onto the tarmac.

“Yes!” He whooped and started the exhilarating swoop down the other side.

Now he released his thoughts towards that bright new future. Should he stay in the comfortable cocoon with Jayne and experience the same old, same old, regardless of money or opportunity? Or, break free for the precarious life of a butterfly, which, without William’s money, might leave him homeless on a park bench? A life that would require self-reliance and determination. For it to be the right decision, he had to make it before he knew whether or not he could ethically keep the money.

There would be no third chance with Jayne. If he rejected her now, she would never speak to him again. He would be alone. His brothers would be Christmas-cards-only after the house sale. Jayne was all he had. It would be a brave man that turned her down.

As he raced towards the bottom of the hill, the wind in his face made his eyes water. The prospect of no Jayne and living alone in a squalid bedsit with only the daily company of Veronica’s clients weighed heavy, like aGroundhog-Dayre-run of the decades spent caring for his father, only in worse living conditions. In contrast, the prospect of Jayne’s warm bed, companionship and the simple presence of other human beings was pleasant.

Pleasant wasn’t enough. He could do better than that. The direction he should take was still hazy but the first steps were becoming clearer and he was going to take them. Hope for that butterfly emerging from its cocoon rose as he hit the flat road, plans forming at pace in his head.

He peeled himself out of the Lycra and showered. His stomach growled and churned. Once the decision was made, he hadn’t wanted to stop for the sandwiches and coffee in his pannier. What he was about to do to his fiancée was unforgivable. It made him the lowest of the low. Was it worse or better than proceeding with a ‘good enough’ marriage that might have made her happy? Impossible to know. The knot in his stomach still wouldn’t allow food. Jayne was due to come round with the seating plan that evening, possibly with it upgraded to Hilton standard and a fresh wave of ideas, excitement and sparkly eyes. His resolve must not crumble under her enthusiasm. He must not let her follow her passion. He had to tell her before the conversation got that far. He had to find the right words and place the blame where it belonged: on himself.

“Brochures!” Jayne walked into the kitchen and placed a pile of glossy publications on the table. She sorted them into three small piles. “Firstly, everything I could lay my hands on at the Hilton about their wedding service and,” she paused and grinned at him, “their honeymoon suite for our wedding night. Secondly, exotic honeymoon destinations offering sun and sea. Finally, information from Green Dale about their respite care. I think I’ve covered all bases. Where do you want to start? I’ve canned the seating plan until we know exactly which room at the Hilton we prefer. They’ve got two vacant on our date.”

“Let’s take a step back, Jayne.”

“Why?” She was oblivious to what he was about to say.

“Getting married isn’t about hotels and guests and posh holidays. It goes far, far deeper than that.”

She was looking at him as though he’d just stepped from a UFO. Her mouth was slightly open.

“It’s about spending the rest of our lives together and we have to decide whether that is the very best thing for the two of us.” Stuart tightly clasped his hands so they didn’t shake. “Do we share the same vision of our future?”

There was a frown of incomprehension across her forehead. “When you proposed and I accepted, I thought we’d both decided that was the very best course of action for the two of us.” She glanced down at the ring on her left hand.

“At that point my hopes for the future didn’t extend beyond keeping a roof over my head. Now I realise that I’ve got over two decades of living to catch up on — even if that means gambling with the security of that roof.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice shook slightly as though a slow realisation was seeping through her. He wanted to backtrack and protect her from all the doubts seething in his mind.

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.

He blessed Sandra for being right behind him on this. She had stopped him capitulating.

Stuart took hold of both Jayne’s hands. “This year, since Dad died, has been a journey of self-discovery for me. I’ve had to learn about real life and what I want for me. About how I can grab enough life now to make up for all those years in the shadow of a sickbed. It’s taken me many months but now I know I want my freedom. I want to travel the world unencumbered by responsibilities. I can’t go straight from caring for Dad to being responsible for the happiness of anyone else.”

“I’m not marrying you to get myself a carer for Mum! We can research homes or respite care or . . . I’ve no intention of taking advantage of your good nature.”

He squeezed her hands. “I know. But if we’re married. If you come travelling with me, then I’ll be responsible for your happiness. And I really do want you to be happy, so I’d be forming plans around your needs and wants. You wouldn’t be happy living in a hostel or out of a rucksack or not seeing Lillian for eighteen months.”

“I could wait for you to come back.”

“No. We tried a long-distance relationship when we were eighteen. Remember? And it didn’t work.”

Tears formed in the corners of Jayne’s eyes and Stuart felt dampness in his own lashes too.

“Does this mean the wedding is off?” Her voice was mixed with the beginnings of a sob and her expression began to crumble. “I was worried I might lose you to Florence but it never occurred to me you’d prefer living rough in some foreign country to the two of us being cosy together here. Especially now that you’ve got William’s money and we could travel together in luxury.”

“I haven’t accepted the money yet. It will probably turn out to be unfair for me to take it. And if I do take it, it will be my nest egg for when I decide to return.”

“I have my pride. I won’t argue about this with you. I know when I’m not wanted.” Jayne stood up, tugged off the engagement ring, placed it on the table in front of Stuart and walked out.

Stuart sat for a long time with his head in his hands. He regretted the pain he’d inflicted on Jayne. But it would have been far worse for both of them if he’d gone ahead with the wedding.

It had grown dark outside and inside. The only light was a faint orange glow from a street lamp.

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