Freedom From The Past
Clare Tanner
Freedom from the past
Clare Tanner
Copyright 2011 Clare Tanner
Freedom from the past
Caroline felt tired and irritable. Teaching Year 7 about reproduction and personal responsibility had to be every teacher’s least favourite lesson. She ought to be used to it by now, but she could still hear the sniggers as she demonstrated how to put a condom onto a plastic phallus. The girls were the worst.
She thought with no pleasure about the Friday night ahead of her. Solitude again. It was so hard to pick up the threads of a life after divorce. Work was always so busy, and somehow it was easier to concentrate on that than to examine what had gone wrong in her life and how she could revitalise her stagnant existence. Thinking a glass of wine might help, she opened the fridge and, trying not to notice the two solitary ready meals inhabiting its empty shelves, she picked out an open bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and poured herself a large glass. Fortified with this emotional crutch, she sat down at the computer to check her emails. Nothing interesting. Several offers for cheap pharmaceuticals, and suggestions that she might have won all sorts of things that she didn't want anyway. Caroline was contemplating logging off and seeing what was on TV, when she remembered what Sue had mentioned in the Staff Room about how much fun she was having with Facebook. Caroline had never bothered to sign up, having seen the problems some of the kids at school had with its competitive nature, but Sue said that she had got back in touch with several friends from school because of it, and that it was a great way of keeping in contact with people that you couldn't meet up with, for one reason or another. Sue had been surprised at how many of her old friends were either not settled or were back in the singles market again after years of marriage. Perhaps it might make Caroline feel less alone in her relatively new single status.
She had a look at it, not really intending to join, but it did look very professionally done, and it was so easy to sign up that, before she really knew what she was doing, she was entering her own details. Having entered her school and university details, it was a short step to "find friends". She was surprised how many people turned up through this means, and she put in several friend requests, some of which were accepted almost straight away. Something caught her eye on the right of the screen - "people you might know." She couldn't drag her eyes away from one name and picture - Ben Johnson. It was annoying to feel her pulse racing. Seeing his name was the last thing she had expected. Surely he would have laughed at something like this. Perhaps he had changed. She clicked on his name, and was disappointed to see "Ben only shares some information with everyone. If you know Ben, add him as a friend." That figured. Caroline idly held the cursor over the message, not realising it was a link, and, by accident (or was it?) sent a friend request. Trying to forget what she had done, she looked at a few pages of old friends and decided that, either the divorce rate was a lot worse than the government thought, or that people tended to sign up for this sort of thing when their lives were in flux. After reading about a girl who, after having six children, had realised she was a lesbian and was living with her girlfriend in Hastings, she decided that enough was enough. Perhaps her own life wasn’t so bad after all.
The weekend was fairly dull and uneventful, until Sunday evening, when, checking on Facebook for new messages, she noticed a post on her wall from, of all people, Ben Johnson. The sight of it made her heart pound and her hands shake, even after all these years. He wanted to meet up, and he posted his phone number. It was a mobile. No clues there.
After much deliberation (about three seconds) Caroline dialled the number, cursing herself for her weakness as she did so.
“Hello.” His voice echoed across the years, completely unchanged.
She swallowed hard. "It’s Caroline. Caroline Kelly. I got your message.”
“Caroline." She could hear his smile. Despite herself, she smiled back. "How good is this?" he continued. "I couldn’t believe it when I saw your friend request. After all these years." He paused. "I didn't expect to see you single. And I thought you'd have kids by now."
“Well, life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?" she replied, hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in her voice. "What about you? You don't give much away on your page.”
There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line.
"I’m still single. A bit of baggage, like everyone else. How about meeting up for a drink, and we can compare notes?”
“I’m not sure.” Far too late, caution was coming into play.
“Come on. What’s stopping you? I know you’re divorced, because you said so on your page.”
“Well, we probably live at opposite ends of the country….”
“I’m still in South London. Where are you?”
“Kent. Not very far out.”
“Easy then. We can meet in town. That’s settled. How about Wednesday, after work?”
That was it then. He still had the ability to manipulate her, without even seeming to try. She didn’t know whether to be excited at the prospect of seeing him again, or depressed at his continuing power over her after all these years. Excitement won out. At least she would go in with her eyes open this time.
