We met in the Pakora Bar on Argyle Street. As we waited for the our order, Terry looked a bit anxious, but I said nothing. After what seemed like hours, the food arrived, and we got stuck in. Wondering why Terry had asked to meet me, I enquired after her two daughters, and her husband John. Terry looked at me, tears threatening to flow. ‘Let’s eat first, then we can talk,’ she said.
I was aware that Terry and John were having problems, but I attributed it to the pressure of having two toddlers and both of them working full time. But then again, John is a selfish son of a bitch, going to the pub after work, forgetting that his wife has work to go to. I often wondered how Terry put up with him. Sometimes I wanted to tell her to leave him, that she’d be better off without him, but I never did. Who wants to hear their friend say that?
The waiter brought another drink; I waited. ‘Cathy, can I ask your opinion on something?’ Terry whispered, in a barely audible voice. I nodded and gave her time to speak.
‘Do you think I should stay with John, purely for the children?’ She said,
I told her that I would support her, whatever she decided, and asked what has caused her to feel this way.
‘Last week, he didn’t come home to let me get to work, and I had to ask Pauline and her husband to stay with them. He turned up drunk, and vomited everywhere. Pauline stayed all night, until I got home. It was so
I asked her if she was serious, and she nodded. I felt relieved that she reached this decision alone, and I assured her that I would support her every way I could. How she put up with it for so long, is a mystery.