TT - 29 Alison Holds Back

When Eric and Eleanor moved into Anchor House they were so besotted with the place they hardly dared furnish it. Objects were not so much chosen for their new home as offered up to it for its approval: if they fell in with the rhythms of the time-worn interior they stayed, if not, they went back to the antique shop or were returned to the ever rotating stock of Briding family heirlooms. Conversely, the temporary items that were bought from junk shops to stop the gaps in this long organic process received no thought or care whatsoever. Inevitably, some of these items grafted themselves onto the house by default, eventually becoming as much a part of its personality as the 'beautiful pieces'. The Bridings, encountering the familiar contours and surfaces of their home on a daily basis, have gradually ceased to distinguish between the two classes of furnishing. It is only the visitor who is surprised to find that the Victorian brass light switch in the hallway illuminates a red plastic light shade, or that the walnut escritoire on the upper landing is complimented, or rather insulted, by an old school chair.

Today it is Alison Carduggan who sits in the Briding's kitchen and enjoys the unconventional relationship between a splay-legged Formica-top table and a beautifully restored fireplace with working bread oven. She is less bothered by the aesthetic shortcomings of the table, however, than by an almost perfect circle of jammy clag that sits just centimetres from her right elbow. Alison knows she has the self-control not to grab a damp dishcloth from the draining-board but she doesn't trust herself not to set about the offending smirch with a spit-dampened tissue. To lessen the temptation she turns her chair slightly to the left.

"I'll give them another shout." Eleanor says.
Alison has popped round to collect Suzie who has not returned home at the agreed time. This is because Suzie is busy upstairs playing the lead role of Mrs Green in Basil's latest musical extravaganza and is quite properly reluctant to interupt the artistic process for something as prosaic as 'tea'.
"Just five more minutes then." Alison hears Eleanor call up the stairs.
The shuffles and thumps that can be heard on the ceiling are the sounds of Suzie and Basil perfecting the choreography to their big show-stopping number 'Oh Dem Tartan Cardies!' in which Valishiana Green, the colonial plantation owner, is tied up with her own Pringle cardigan by her angry slaves, led by Lame Gordy but much aided by lil' Sue and Blind Boy Bridie.

Eleanor comes back into the kitchen. "Glass of wine? I've got a nice white already opened in the fridge."
"Oh that's kind of you..." Alison is prepaing to decline the offer but then changes her mind. "Oh go on then, why not!"
Alison feels quite devil-may-care as she sips the cold Vouvray and simply pushes aside the mental image of her cassoulet drying out in the oven at home.
"God, I need this." Eleanor says with a sigh.
"Bad day?"
"Well, just the usual really, although I can't say being bollocked by an octogenarian for being five minutes late whilst I've got my finger up his rectum is my ideal way to end the day."
"Oh dear!" says Alison.

"How about you?"
"Oh, quite busy. Drove Douglas's mother to her hospital appointment this morning. Then picked up Mr Dudly's pension. Cleared out the under-stairs cupboard." She casts around for more things that she has done that day. "Oh, and made Suzie's costume for the nativity play."
"Oh God, have you done that already!" Eleanor says. "You're so organised. I'll be doing it the night before the dress rehearsal."
"Well, yes, but I don't have a career..."
"Well, I should think full-time mum and vicar's wife is demanding enough."
Eleanor pours some more wine and both women manage to feel inadequate for exactly converse reasons.

"How's Douglas? Haven't seen him for ages." Eleanor says, then gives an embarrassed laugh. "Oh dear, that's not a very good admission to make to the vicar's wife is it?"
"Well, you're out ministering to the sick. I'm sure that's a much better way of expressing your love for the way of the Lord than droning though a few hymns on a Sunday morning."
"Mmmm, that's a nice way of putting it." Says Eleanor. The truth is, since Basil left the church choir she's been enjoying her Sunday morning lie-ins again.
"Douglas is fine, by the way." Alison says.
"Good."
"Well, I say fine." Alison frowns slightly and turns her wine glass in her hand. She takes a breath as though she's about to say something but doesn't. She looks Eleanor in the eye, opens her mouth, but still nothing. She looks down again and smiles.
"Is something worrying you, Alison?"
"Oh it's nothing, really."
Eleanor tops up her glass. "Come on, what is it?"

"I don't want to bore you with it."
"You won't bore me."
Alison drinks some more wine. She can hear the children still romping around upstairs.
"This is absolutely between you and me."
"Of course."
"Well, Douglas and I. We're not...We've stopped... How can I put it..."
"You've stopped having sex."
"That's about the long and short of it." Alison laughs nervously. "I mean, I know we're not love's young dream, anymore, but still..."
"But still, you miss the intimacy."
"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Listen, Alison, I have people coming to me all the time with exactly the same problem."
"Really?"
"Of course. Work demands, tiredness, children, it all takes its toll. I mean, when was the last time you both got into bed together when you weren't completely exhausted. I know there are times when Eric and I hardly get to speak to each other let alone make love."
"Yes, you're right. And Douglas has been so busy lately." She pauses. "It's just that...sometimes...it's as though we've stopped connecting on some level."
"It sounds to me as though you need to make some time to be with each other. Pack the kids off and have a romantic meal or something."
Alison laughs. "Douglas would wolf it down, say thanks, that was delicious darling, then be back in his study working on his play, or his sermon, or engrossed in one of his books!"

"Well, take him out somewhere then. Look, I know it can't be easy with Douglas's work schedule, but if you could manage to get a couple of days away you know I can always have Suzie."
"That's kind." Alison fiddles with the clasp on her bracelet. "Yes, perhaps you're right. Perhaps we just need some 'quality time' together.
"It's amazing how just making some time to be a couple again can really 'rekindle the spark'."
"It's such a relief to have someone to talk to, Eleanor. Thank you for listening."
"Of course. What are friends for. But look, if it doesn't resolve itself, I can recommend a really good marriage guidance councillor."
"Oh goodness, it's not that serious!”
"People always think of Marriage Guidance as the last resort, but all marriages have their ups and downs and a good councillor can really help."
"Maybe."

Alison can't see Douglas agreeing to discuss their sex life with a third party. There are good reasons why he won't discuss it with her, his own wife. Alison suppresses a sigh and drains the last of her wine
"Is there something else?" Eleanor says.
"No, no." Says Alison, quickly. "Just what I've told you."
They hear children’s voices followed by the thump of boisterous feet down the stairs.
"I'm sure it'll be fine." Eleanor rubs Alison's arm reassuringly.
"Of course." Says Alison brightly. "I mean, that's the wonderful thing about Douglas and me. First and foremost we're the best of friends."