I try not to dwell on my past nor do I let anyone else in on it. Honestly, whats the point? There were so many foolish and dreadful things, there are days when I can barely believe all those things really happened to me. Sometimes I convince myself that some wicked storyteller invented my whole, strange, never-ending saga and whispered it in my ear while I slept. Then, silly old me, I just went along with it, quite naively.
But these days, Ive shaken off my old habits, and at fifty, Im determined to live sensibly and thoughtfully. Im even in the market for a new wife, hoping perhaps foolishly that happiness is still out there waiting for me.
Recently, I met a striking woman online, with a rather fitting name for someone holding on to hope Grace. We started by exchanging messages, then moved on to phone calls, and finally agreed to meet at a cosy little café.
Grace was more attractive in person than in her profile photos, and her eyes were far more intense. There was something mysterious in them, a hint that she too had seen a fair bit of life.
For a moment, we just sat there in silence, studying each other over steaming mugs of tea.
Well, she said, with a Mona Lisa smile, shall we introduce ourselves properly now, Nicholas?
Lets, I replied, offering my hand with a grin. Nicholas Harris. Fifty, and unattached.
Still single, or single again? she asked, her smile never faltering. For the how many-eth time?
Well, how should I put it, Grace I hesitated, then frowned. You want to know everything about me the whole truth?
Every bit, she nodded, suddenly serious. Every last skeleton in your closet. I want to know about all of them.
Oh dear I sighed heavily. Actually, Grace, my skeletons dont all fit in one cupboard.
I thought as much, she replied, completely unfazed. But old cupboards dont scare me much, you know.
And why did you think that about me?
Oh, its not just you. Every mans got skeletons tucked away somewhere. Thats just how it goes.
And women? I asked, with mock-seriousness. Is it only skirts and blouses in their wardrobes?
Well get on to women another time. This time, its your turn. So, which victim am I?
No, no, it was usually me who ended up the sacrificial lamb, I insisted, shaking my head. Still, Im hoping the third times the charm.
Ah, got it, she nodded. Twice unlucky?
Not that, exactly. Just too trusting, and far too quick to fall in love. But now that Ive hit fifty, Im trying to be more careful. A bit cynical, like everyone else.
And you dont pay child support anymore?
All paid up, long ago.
For your legitimate children?
Of course.
And the others?
I dont think there are any others, I admitted, not entirely convincingly. At least, no ones ever come forward.
So, you wont deny youve had your connections, shall we say, with other women, women who might have had your children?
Come off it, Grace, I grimaced. Every woman who was ever with me mattered. I loved each one.
For long?
It varied I started to brood, because she was pulling those sad old memories out again. But why do you want all this? I told you I was gullible. And too romantic for my own good.
What does that mean, being gullible?
I thought every fling was meant to last forever. But if Im honest
But really, you were a bit of a womaniser, is that it?
I almost objected, but, for some reason, held back this time. I just looked into Graces searching eyes, starting to regret coming here, and gave a helpless wave of my hand.
Call me what you like. Casanova, Don Juan, heartbreaker Ive heard them all from my ex-wives.
So how many wives, exactly?
Two. Ive said this. Never cheated on either. All my adventures happened when I was young, before I ever slipped on a wedding ring. But when my exes eventually heard about my past, goodness, the stories they spun. I even had to move cities, just to leave it all behind.
Oh? Id really like to know what was your past, then? Will you tell me?
To make sure this date is our last one?
Was there anything criminal? Something that I couldn’t forgive?
Sadly, nothing so dramatic, I sighed again. Just the usual: it all started out impossibly dreamy and romantic, then turned downright nasty and unfair. Everything that goes hand in hand with being absolutely thoughtless in love ending, inevitably, in bitter betrayal. It happened more than once, with women who looked as sweet as can be. But it was my fault. You shouldnt be so naïve. Loves just an illness comes on all of a sudden and goes away just as quickly. Thats about it. Lets leave it there, shall we?
But why? Grace looked genuinely surprised.
Because youve peeked into doors I hoped never to open again. And now Im in the foulest mood. Im afraid if we tried living together, those skeletons would end up haunting you as well. Ive learned my lesson.
A bit of bother is nothing, Nick, she said, giving me another sphinx-like smile. If your skeletons start rattling my cage, Ill just throw my own cupboards wide open. Trust me, my skeletons are just as lively. Want to know about mine?
I was caught off guard.
Youre saying, Grace, that you too were
Yes, she interrupted. I was young once, wild for romance, and swept away by it more than once. Thats why I asked you about yours. If husband and wife are to be equals, both need to have a measure of the same.
Well, yes I breathed a sigh of relief. But lets agree lets not dig around in those old years too often. Let this be the last time.
Why?
I just dont want to think about them, thats all.
Alright, she agreed. To be honest, Im not very fond of looking back, either. So, shall we order something? We are in a café, after all. Maybe something wed have gone for in our younger days.
How about a gin and tonic?
Lovely. I can hardly remember its taste. And maybe a Scotch egg? Or a plate of prawn sandwiches?
And maybe
Within minutes, we were laughing our heads off. Because, once again, we let our thoughts revisit the past but only the jollier parts. After all, youth always has plenty of fun memories worth reliving. Those are the ones that make for the best reminiscing.
