‘How have you been since your man passed?’ Nancy asked.
Netta was about to give her stock answer of ‘fine’. Or ‘just getting on with it’. But weirdly, it felt like there was something freeing about speaking to a stranger, someone who didn’t know her and that she would never see again. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, ‘Lonely.’
‘That’s a tough thing to deal with, love. I felt the same for a long time after Peter passed. There was a huge hole in my heart and I had no idea how to fill it, how to make up for having that person right next to me every day, making me laugh, and sharing my life and wrapping his big lovely arms around me at the end of the night.’
Netta could just have taken that onboard and pretended to share the sentiment. Agreed. Moved on. Given a few platitudes and kept her thoughts to herself. But it was as if a dam of words and feelings had burst inside her and she couldn’t hold back the waters.
‘The thing is, though, I don’t think I’ve just been lonely since he died. I think I was lonely for the forty years I was married to him too.’
Nancy’s silence and her raised eyebrow of curiosity encouraged Netta to go on.
‘Fergus wasn’t a sociable man. He liked us to keep to ourselves. To live a quiet life. And, somehow, I went along with that. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand why.’
Nancy’s response to that was to blow out her cheeks and Netta wasn’t sure if that meant she was disapproving or just working up to her answer. When it came, it was surprisingly kind and sympathetic.
‘It was just what we did back then though, wasn’t it? I couldn’t throw a stone at my over sixty-fives line dancing class and not hit a dozen women who stayed in unsatisfactory marriages because it was just the done thing. I mean, I’d also get arrested for throwing the bloody rock in the first place, but you get my point.’
Netta smiled as she nodded. ‘I do.’ She hadn’t thought about it that way. Sometimes it had been so easy to feel that she was the only one in that position, not that there was a whole generation of ladies out there that could understand. Perhaps if she’d maintained her friendships she’d have had more of these kinds of conversations, but Fergus had always preferred them to be alone together, and somewhere in the early years, especially when the kids came along, it had been easier to just go along with it.
Something Nancy said came back into Netta’s mind and she realised she had a question now too. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you said you felt like that for a long time after your husband passed. You don’t now?’
‘Ah, there’s a story,’ Nancy told her with a nod of her head. ‘I was in a sorry way after I lost him, and even now, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him. I could barely get my head off the pillow some days. But there came a point when I realised that I was living all of my days in the past, and I couldn’t go on revisiting the pain of it. My Peter wouldn’t have wanted that for me either, so I decided to start living again. It’s really as simple as that. I made plans with my pals. And then, my toes are curling when I tell you this, believe me, but I arranged to meet an old flame at a school reunion.’
That made Netta smile. ‘You found love again.’
‘Oh, not with him. Turns out he was a manky old perv, who was deluded about his appeal to women and who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. But that night someone else stepped in to help, and he’s the one I fell in love with. We got married just last year. It isn’t the same as with Peter, but I think that’s a good thing. It’s wonderfully different. Happy. I was lucky enough to get one great love of my life, so I count my blessings that I ended up with two. Today would have been Peter’s birthday, so I popped along to let him know I was thinking about him. But, in a few months, I’ll celebrate my Eddie’s birthday too. And I think Peter would be happy about that.’
‘That’s such a lovely story. Gives me hope,’ Netta admitted.
‘Hope is a good place to start,’ Nancy said, before opening her handbag and fishing a card out of it. She pressed it into Netta’s hand. ‘My pal, Val, runs a Starting Over group for women just like us. And I know that sounds like a bit of a miserable place to be, but it really isn’t. I’m not saying we don’t shed a tear, but we have a laugh too. And there’s something to be said for having someone to talk to.’
Netta flushed when Nancy said that. Of course, she knew that already. Didn’t she tell her Listening Line callers that every day? And yet she’d never taken her own advice, always being more comfortable to be the sympathetic ear or the one that helped others. Maybe it was time now to do something to help herself.
‘Anyway,’ Nancy went on, ‘it was good to meet you, Netta, but I’d better be going. I hope I see you again. I still go to Val’s group, but really just for the chat and the biscuits now, so if you fancy talking more, please come along. We’d be happy to have you.’
‘I’ll think about that,’ Netta said. ‘And thank you for the chat. It was good to meet you, Nancy.’
‘Bye, love.’
With that, she bustled off down the path towards the gate, leaving Netta to have a silent chat to her husband.
Well, I bet you were uncomfortable for every single second of that, Fergus McGonigle. I can hear you tutting from here.
She thought about sitting for a while longer – she didn’t have to be in work until four o’clock – but more of Nancy’s words were playing back in her mind now.
I was living all of my days in the past.
I decided to start living again.
She wasn’t doing any kind of living, just sitting here, letting her day go by. She got up on to her feet and wound up her chat.
Goodbye, Fergus. I’ll see you same time next year. Sleep well.
As she walked away, she realised that she was singing Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’ again, quietly, softly. But she still hoped Fergus could hear her.
Time to start living again.
Nancy’s words were back. Netta had no idea if she’d do anything as dramatic as go along to the bereavement group, but there was one thing she knew that she could definitely do right now.
