“Oh…right.” is all I can say. Not into babies much, and this conversation is going down the really uncomfortable route.
“We’ve been trying for some time, and last week Jack got tested.”
“Uh-ha,” my ability to communicate is diminishing by the second.
“That’s what the arguments are about. Jack has a low sperm count.”
Shit, I have nothing to say to that. What do you say? Then I think of something, “oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” We carry on walking in silence until we get to The Ridge and the seat I always sit on.
“It’s hit Jack hard, and he’s started to drink.”
We sit in silence for a minute. “You know, I have always seen you and Mr. Peters as having the perfect relationship.”
“Really?”
“Mmm yeah, I always thought that if I ever had a relationship like yours, I would consider myself very lucky.”
“As opposed to what?”
“Well, my parents.”
“You what? Your parents seem happy together.”
“I guess they are in their own way, but they don’t seem to have the love you and Mr. Peters have.” She looks at me for a moment, so I add. “The world can see you love each other. I can’t remember seeing my parents kiss once.”
“Oh…….well, maybe that’s an age thing.”
“I guess………So what are you and Mr. Peters going to do about having a baby?”
“Not sure; keep trying for the moment. If that doesn’t work, we could possibly adopt.” Again there’s a moment of silence. “It’s really beautiful up here at night. I can see why you come this way.”
“Yeah, it’s a good place to come and think.” Archie comes and sits at my feet, indicating he wants to go now. I get up and pat him. “Looks like Archie wants to go home,” I say. We get up and slowly walk down the hill. “So, is that what all the arguments have been about?”
“Sorry, yes. Mr. Peters hasn’t taken the news well that he’s the reason I haven’t got pregnant. I think he feels it makes him less of a man or something.”
“Oh,” I say, not knowing what to say.
Mrs. Peters can see this has made me a little uncomfortable, “I’m sorry, Rob. I can see in your face that you find this conversation uncomfortable.”
We walk down in relative silence; the only sound is Archie’s panting as he runs around. “It’s only because it’s not our usual conversation.”
“And on the edge of talking about sex.” She says, looking at me for a reaction, which she gets, as I grimace at the word sex. She laughs, “I thought you deserved an explanation, that’s all.”
“Okay, so does this mean my extra tutoring is not going to happen?”
Mrs. Peters is quiet for a moment. “No, we can carry on as long as you are gone by the time he gets home. That should still give us an hour at least.”
I look at her and smile, “okay, gone by five.”
We walk the rest of the way in relative silence and part ways at the top of the Peters’ drive.
The next day it is pissing down outside, so I phone across and check to see if I can get a lift to school. Mrs. Peters is happy that I have accepted her explanation, and things between us have gone back to relative normality. We drive to school only, discussing my classes and the weather. Noel Edmonds is on the radio one doing the breakfast show and is playing The Eurythmics, Sweet Dreams. We start to sing along as we make our way through rush hour traffic.
I have a typical day at school, and time passes quickly. It’s still raining when we leave, and we are stuck in traffic with a sea of red brake lights blurred on the wet window screen.
“Rob?”
“Yes, Mrs. Peters?”
“I would like to thank you for last night. I needed to get out of the house and talk to someone. Could I ask you to keep what we talked about to yourself?”
“Yes, I’m not someone to talk about such things anyway.” She smiles at me as the car behind hits his horn because the traffic has started to move, and we haven’t.
When the traffic stops again, she continues the conversation. “Would you mind if I joined you again some time?”
“I guess not, and it’s a free country,” I reply, trying to be cool.
“Well, I don’t want to impose on you if you find it awkward.”
I don’t answer straight away, and if I am honest, it is a little awkward. “It should be fine. It is a little awkward, to be honest, but it is nice to have company once in a while.”
“Oh, it won’t be every night. Just when I need a little fresh air.”
“Okay,” is all that I can think to say in return. The traffic starts moving again, and soon we are on the dual carriageway nearing our turn off.
This is how pretty much my life for the next month. Mr. and Mrs. Peters seem to argue most nights. I can hear them when sitting in my room doing my homework. Sometimes there is a crash when something gets thrown or dropped. These are the evenings that you can guarantee I get a companion on my walk.
It’s a cold frosty morning in the third week of November, and the arguments are at their worst. Mrs. Peters has been quiet on the drive to school. It seems like life has been sucked out of her. She looks tired and not the same person she was earlier this year.
“Mrs. Peters, pardon me for saying, but you don’t look right.”
There’s a moment of silence, “I’m sure things will work out.” I look across at her with a worried expression. She smiles back, “you remind me of Jack when we first met at university.” She gasps, and a worried look comes across her face.
“What’s up?” I say, suddenly feeling uncomfortable but not sure why.
“Nothing,” is all she can answer. Her eyes are fixed on the car in front, and she puts the radio on to break the weird silence. We stay like that for the rest of the way to school, and by the time we return home, she seems to be a little more relaxed.
Nothing more was said about Mrs. Peters’ problems all week, and I had forgotten our conversation earlier in the week. We get home on Friday, and when she opens the garage, Mr. Peters’ car is there.
“I’m sorry, Rob, it looks like Mr. Peters is home early. We will have to do your lesson at a different time.”
“That’s okay, Mrs. Peters. I have a load of homework to get through anyhow.” I say, trying to make her feel better about it. I hadn’t, one of the teachers was away, and the other forgot to set us any. It looks like I have a weekend to myself then.
I get out, thank her for the lift and make my way across the road. I get in and turn the heating on, so it’s warm for when my parents come in. I’m in my room getting changed when I hear Mr. Peters shout, “stop the nagging woman,” and slams the door.
I look out and see him stagger the top of his drive and sit on his garden wall. He reaches up to rub his face and promptly falls back into his garden. He must be off his trolley because I don’t see him emerge for about ten minutes. He finally stands, using the wall for support, and makes his way back into the house. He enters the kitchen, where I can see Mrs. Peters doing the dishes. He says something to her, and they seem to make up.
Eight o’clock, and I walk down the next door’s driveway with Archie on his lead. He’s pulling this way and that until he stops still in the middle of the road. I look to where he is and see Mrs. Peters waiting for me in her winter coat. It’s a bit cold out tonight, and I have my Parker on with the fur-lined snorkel hood.