Going Up and Going Down by Eva Bielby

carried on her cynicism.
    As I served up
dessert and placed Eileen’s in front of her I couldn’t stop my sarcasm
surfacing,
    “Eileen, if the
dessert is not to your liking I can get you some ice-cream from the freezer –
something that I’ve not prepared.” It was a waste of time, the woman was
so thick-skinned. I was by that point avoiding all eye contact with Anthony,
and John must have had some warning looks from Eileen while I had been in the
kitchen as he became very quiet again. I ate my cheesecake and decided I had
had enough tension for one night. Standing up, I announced,
    “Do excuse me,
folks, I have a headache and I’m going to bed. It has been nice to see you
again, John.”
    “Too much wine ,
darling?” Anthony asked me sarcastically.
    “No…it must be
the cheese in the Glamorgan sausages. Good night!” and feigning calmness and
serenity I walked out and left them.
    I heard their
car pull out of the drive fifteen minutes later, which was rapidly followed by
Anthony’s footsteps thundering up the stairs. He shoved the bedroom door wide
open, hitting the chest of drawers behind it and pointed at me accusingly,
    “YOU” he
shouted loudly “have embarrassed me tonight, Helen. How dare you treat my
mother in that manner?” I had calmed down and was ready for his onslaught.
    “So it is just
fine then – the way she has been trying to belittle me all evening? You did not
find anything wrong with the things that she said to insult your wife, Anthony?
That is acceptable is it – for her to speak to me the way that she did? Does my
father talk down to you? Does he insult you at every given opportunity? He never would do that though, he has better manners, and at least he likes you. But if he didn’t, I would still defend you, Anthony. That is what a husband
and wife should do after all – support each other. She hates me! I think
your dad likes me but he has to do her bidding. I feel sorry for him.” I’d
struck a nerve. The truth hurt! He was beyond furious. Unable to defend his
mother further he shouted,
    “Fuck you,
Helen!” and with that, he slammed the bedroom door and was gone. For the first
time since we married, I woke up alone the next morning. Anthony had slept in
one of the guest bedrooms for the night.

CHAPTER 10
    We soon got
over the disastrous dinner party with Anthony’s parents and I resolved that
until Eileen started treating me with more respect there would be no more
dinner invitations to our house. I genuinely tried to make more of an effort
with them. I visited them in their home with Anthony a few times after that
night but there was no imminent thaw about to occur in the foreseeable future -
years with a bit of luck! Rather than insult me anymore she reverted back, as
she had done before we got married, punishing me by totally ignoring me. She
made no eye contact whatsoever or any attempt to include me in conversation.
Why put myself through it, I thought. I gradually started building a wide
selection of excuses to avoid the monthly visits.
    Our life
carried on in pretty much the same vein as it had before. We still laughed a
lot and had fun but something had changed since that night – our
love-making. I don’t suppose it could be called love-making anymore. We were
having sex instead. Fucking! Sex with a vulgarity, a particular
crudeness to it – and strangely I loved it. We were both indulging in acts that
were for our individual sexual gratification only - rather than one mutual act
done in a loving, as one, sensual manner. It was as if we were taking out some
mutual anger on each other – wild! But no less enjoyable!
    We had never
discussed having children. Anthony never gave the impression that he wanted to
be a father, and to me it wasn’t the be all and end all of a marriage. If it
happened it happened, but if it didn’t I was certainly not going to lose any
sleep over it. Mum and Dad would have quite enjoyed playing the doting
grandparents to, maybe a