New year ....

Poor Leonora.

She had been so happy to get that first email of the year from Leonard.  

'He loves me,' she told the Little Crutches happily. The rather dusty little crutches smiled at her.

'Was he drunk?' muttered one of them in as quiet a voice as it could manage.  One of the others nudged it a little too severely and it fell over, sending dust clouds into the air.

Leonora didn't seem to notice.  She smiled at the little crutch and picked it up, putting it lovingly back in the pile.

She sent him lots of chatty emails.  And didn't get a reply.

Eventually she got a one-liner late in the evening just before bed-time.  

The next day she didn't hear from him at all until a similar time in the evening, when he finally said 'hello.'

Leonora began to think the love was spread a bit thin on the ground.

When she woke up the following morning, there was another mail waiting for her, sent at one of Leonard's extremely stupid post-midnight hours. 'night' it said.

She impatiently wrote out a list of all the mails she had sent this year, and the three from him, going down from one line to one word.

He wrote back saying they could take mails in turns.  She wrote back.

She was still waiting for his reply days later.  'I hate horrid Leonard,' she told the Little Crutches, stamping around the place.

They breathed a sigh of relief.  Life was back to normal.  At least Hating Horrid Leonard was the status quo.

Christmas Eve

Leonora was looking forward to a peaceful Christmas.


Somehow the decorations and trees and cards had got consigned to the past.


Ping! went her email and there was a photo from Horrid Leonard. Of all his god-damned presents under the tree.


Piss off Leonard, she said to herself.  Great that you have a shit load of presents. And I have none. And no family. Just rub it in my face.


She sighed. Perhaps it wasn't going to be a good Christmas after all.  Whatever one of those was.

Distance

Leonora was puzzled. After months without hearing from Leonard he had contacted her again. She was miffed he had ignored her for so long, but secretly pleased to be in touch with him.

It wasn't the same of course. 'Things never are, are they?' she mused to herself thinking about it all. Sometimes it was almost the same, as they chattered and laughed and joked. But still, there was some strange distance that had crept between them.

Now, it was even more strange. He no longer contacted her regularly during the day when he was bored at the office, some days he didn't contact her at all. She couldn't put her finger on it but something wasn't right.

It wasn't as though she had said anything nasty either. Not that Leonora thought she was ever nasty, although oddly Leonard seemed to think she was. On rare occasions she told herself quickly. And only under extreme provocation.

Leonard, on the other hand, she thought viciously, could be extremely nasty. Frequently. Without any provocation from the saintly Leonora. She sighed. She displayed such forbearance, restraint and patience in the face of his cruel and unkind insults.

A list. That was what was needed. A List of Leonard's .. Leonard's what? She needed something alliterative, luxurious, libidinous, lewd. No those words would not do at all. She had no idea why they came to mind. Loathsome, now there was a better word. But loathsome what? Nope, she needed to think about her lists and organise her categories. One heading for horrible. One for tolerable. And one for very nice.

But should she give more weight to the very nice comments because they were so sweet, if somewhat rare? No, she decided firmly, she should not. There was no reason for rewarding someone for being nice, nasty Leonard should be nice all the time, just as she, Leonora, was always nice.

And with all that sorted in her head, she decided to go out for a walk. After all, having worked through the theory, she didn't actually need to put any of it into practice. It was obvious the list of horrid comments would be the longest one.

She pulled on her long fake leather boots and admired her even longer legs. Not that Leonora was vain. Much. Her legs were really nice and long though. Her calf muscles were taut, and her quads were rubbish. Deciding against a jacket, she rushed out of the door without even a backward glance at the sad dusty little crutches.

As she walked briskly down the street, an email winged its way to her and dropped in her in-box.

Some months later......

The months had passed since that lovely Sunday morning walk.

Leonora had indeed enjoyed herself. Mark had chosen their venue very carefully and they had wandered to the top of an iron age hill fort which quite enchanted Leonora.

The views were excellent, there were no sheep around so Sheba ran happily all over the place, and the climb up the hill was mildly exerting but not too much so.

Leonora had been so well disposed that she had offered to put together a light lunch, so they had ended up back at her place, for salad and a glass of wine.

Tactfully, Mark left straight afterwards, and Leonora had spent the afternoon lazing around and chatting to the little crutches who were very interested in the latest romantic developments. Leonora insisted there weren't any. No crutch dared to mention Leonard.

After that, Mark and Leonora drifted back into a fairly casual relationship - weekends out, nothing during the week, and she resolutely refused to get involved in anything work-related. And while Mark might have initially wanted more from her, he began to enjoy their weekends together, without demanding more commitment.

As for Leonora, the weekends were quite enough. She didn't want to spend all her time fitting around some man - although Sheba was another matter - and she was busy enough doing nothing during the week as it was.

It was also true, much as she hated to admit it, that she missed Leonard deeply. Much as she told herself he was horrid and she hated him, every day, she thought about him and missed him.

She often wondered whether she should send him just a nice friendly email - but it had been so long now she didn't have the courage. What if he ignored her?

The little crutches had implemented a self-imposed ban and had stopped mentioning him. But still, his presence hung heavily in the house.

Ping! went the email.

'Hello Leonora. I don't expect you to reply of course, but I wondered how you are. I miss you.

'Leonard.'

Sunday morning

The next morning Leonora was feeling slightly brighter. She always felt better in the mornings. She was looking forward to a nice walk and seeing darling Sheba.

After her shower, she made some Assam tea, toasted some wholemeal bread, and spread it lightly with yeast extract. Leonora liked yeast extract, but she did not like the nasty commercial concoctions such as Marmite, Vegemite, or even worse - horrid meaty Bovril. No, Leonora's yeast extract was pure and undefiled and came from the health food shop.

She ummed and ahed about putting on some make-up but settled for some unnoticeable eye pencil and mascara. Then she couldn't decide whether to wear glasses or contact lenses. Perhaps she would wear the glasses and then she could hide behind them. She had become rather fond of her glasses for exactly that reason.

Next, she picked out some comfortable clothes, and put on her thick socks and walking boots. And waited for the 'phone to ring, which it did before not too long. She smiled.

'Hello,' she said brightly.

'Hello Leonora,' said Mark, none too sure whether this whole thing was a good idea or not.

'I'm ready whenever you are,' she trilled happily.

'I'll be round then,' he said flatly. And put the 'phone down.

Leonora gazed at the 'phone in surprise. Oh well, she thought, not much point chatting if he is soon going to be here.

The little crutches were watching all the preparations with their big eyes, although they said nothing.

When the doorbell rang, she dashed to the door. She smiled fleetingly at Mark and then:

'Oh, Sheba darling, how lovely to see you again. You are the most beautiful dog in the world.'

She felt a slight twinge of guilt as she normally told Tata that, but figured neither of them would ever discover her duplicity.

Sheba beamed at her and trotted happily into the kitchen, where co-incidentally, Leonora had left a couple of small pieces of toast, carefully spread with yeast extract.

Sheba sat down dutifully and waited for her treats. Leonora cooed over her and fed her the toast. Then she poured a bowl of water for Sheba, which she lapped up.

Leonora sat on the floor next to Sheba and stroked and petted her some more.

Mark was not pleased. At all. There was a difference between having a girlfriend who liked your dog, and having a girlfriend who preferred your dog to you. He knew it had been a mistake to revive this relationship.

'Shall I just leave Sheba here with you and clear off on my own?' he asked petulantly.

'No, of course not,' said Leonora, surprised at his sulky little boy behaviour. 'I just haven't seen her for a while, and it's so nice to see her again.'

'You haven't seen me either, but I don't seem to be getting the same treatment,' he said, nearly stamping his foot.

Leonora laughed. 'Do you want a bowl of water and some left-over yeast extract on toast?'

Mark was a dyed-in-the-wool bacon sandwich man, although he didn't usually indulge when Leonora was around.

He had the grace to look slightly abashed, and she walked over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. 'It's nice to see you too,' she said.

Mark realised he was behaving like an idiot. The truth was he had been hurt and disappointed that she had never got in touch with him after her disappearance down to see that obnoxious cousin of hers.

'Are you ready?' he asked.

'Yes. Of course.'

And off they went. Sheba bounded in the back, and Mark carefully snapped her harness onto the carabina clip that he used as a safety restraint. Leonora piled in the front looking forward to a good morning out.

Tears

Leonora gazed morosely at the ceiling. Then she reached out for her glass of wine and had another slurp.

When she had finished the glass of wine she turned over onto her side and curled up in a tiny ball. Well, tiny-ish.

Meanwhile, out in the hall, the little crutches were very quiet. They strained their ears and heard strange noises.

'Waaaaaaaaah,' wailed Leonora, sobbing away like a child to herself. 'Waaaaaaaaah. A booo hooo hooo.'

Little crutch number one decided it was its responsibility as self-appointed leader to say something.

'Leonora?' it said. (Number one was a crutch of few words.)

'Are you all right?' added little crutch number two who also wanted to be in charge. Even though it was clear Leonora was not all right. Little crutch number one raised its eye at such a fatuous question.

Little crutch number three considered asking if she was crying about Leonard, but was beginning to realise that mentioning Leonard equalled a swift kick and a crash to the floor.

Numbers four and five hadn't got a clue what to say.

The loud sobs stopped. Leonora got up from her sofa, picked up her glass, and walked out into the hall.

'Thank you,' she said. 'I'll be OK.' Even though it was clear to all of them that she wouldn't be.

And she wandered into the kitchen and poured another glass of wine then went back to lie on the sofa and gaze morosely at the ceiling again.

The little crutches were worried. They didn't know what to do to help. They chattered amongst themselves in low voices. Although the obvious theory was that she was upset by the 'phone call from Mark, they all had to agree with little crutch number three that the cause was more likely to be Leonard.

Not that he had done anything, but he didn't need to do anything to upset Leonora. In fact, what he didn't do was just as likely to upset her. And what he hadn't done, was get in touch, whereas Mark had.

In truth, that was exactly why Leonora was crying. She hated herself for wishing it was Leonard who had called and not Mark. There was nothing wrong with Mark, he was a nice guy, and she liked him.

So why was she crying about Leonard?

Leonard, who was someone else's husband.

Leonard, who even when he had been briefly single, was never without a woman.

Leonard, who spent most of his time insulting her - but could be irresistibly charming when he wanted.

Leonard, who laughed at her, but who had seemed to care about her at one point.

Leonard - who just didn't want her in his life any more.

If someone else had described the same situation to her, her advice would have been succinct. Forget about him, he's not worth it, and he doesn't care about you.

She knew that was the right thing to do, but why couldn't she do it?

And why, when she had a chance to pick up again with a decent thoughtful man, was she still thinking about her callous selfish cousin? She realised she needed to focus on his bad points (there were lots), and stop thinking about the good times and how much she missed him.

With that, she fell asleep.

A voice from the past

But they never did go geocaching. Leonora didn't even buy a GPS.

Just like the planned trip to Portugal, her heart wasn't in it. It didn't really help that she couldn't think about geocaching without thinking of Leonard.

Little crutch number three was sorry its idea hadn't worked out. All the little crutches were looking forward to going out looking for tiny pots of hidden treasure and they had hoped it would cheer Leonora up.

So she continued to mooch around the house, flicked on the internet for aimless distraction, did the minimum of housework, and generally just drifted from one day to the next.

One Saturday the 'phone rang. She glanced down to see if it was Leonard. It wasn't. She would probably have picked it up anyway, even it had been him.

'Hello Leonora.' It was Mark. Leonora was so surprised she just said 'oh.'

'How are you?' he said in a friendly voice.

Leonora was puzzled. Why was he ringing her after all this time?

'I'm ok,' she said automatically even though she wasn't. 'You?'

'Good thanks,' he answered, thinking she seemed somewhat short of words and he had clearly made a mistake ringing her.

There was a pause. It was her turn to speak and she couldn't think of anything to say.

Mark filled the gap. 'What have you been up to?'

'Nothing really. You?'

'Work, a few business trips, the usual,' he replied. 'Listen, do you fancy going for a walk with Sheba and I?'

Leonora couldn't help it. 'Mark, why are you ringing me up after months to ask me to go for a walk? You haven't been interested in how I am or what I have been doing for ages.'

'I miss you. You didn't ring me either.'

'No,' she said. 'I didn't.'

Mark decided to ask the question that was drumming away in his head. 'Did you go to Morocco with that cousin of yours?'

'No,' she said quickly. 'I was never going to,' she added for emphasis, although mainly for her own benefit.

'I figured you had and you'd dumped me,' continued Mark.

'I'm sorry,' said Leonora automatically. 'I guess I just wanted some time to mope around on my own.

'And then it seemed too late to ring you, and I would have felt such a fool if you had got together with someone else,' she said. Then out of curiosity she asked, 'Did you?'

'No,' he replied. 'Didn't feel like another relationship.'

Leonora froze. The horrible R word. The one she had been avoiding all the time she was with Mark. While she had seen him as good company with a nice dog, who she happened to have sex with - Mark, not the dog - he had considered they had a 'relationship.'

'Well, I'd hardly call it a relationship,' she said, desperate to deny it.

'I thought it was. Obviously not,' he said, wishing he had never rung. 'I guess you don't want to come for a walk with us then.'

'When were you thinking of?' she asked quickly, suddenly realising she was destroying yet another friendship.

'This afternoon? Tomorrow morning? Whatever's convenient for you.'

'Tomorrow morning maybe, I've got stuff to do today,' she lied, not wanting to cope with seeing him immediately.

'OK, say we come and pick you up around 11ish?'

'Fine. Or earlier if you want. You know I'm usually up early. Why don't you give me a ring when you are ready to leave?' she suggested.

'Yes, all right. That's a good idea. Where do you want to go? Anywhere in particular? A stroll round the park, or something a bit more taxing?'

'Maybe up a hill or something. Get some fresh air. Not a huge hill,' she added quickly. 'Just somewhere out of town with a nice view and, well, you know the sort of thing.'

He laughed. 'That's very specific Leonora. But I'll work somewhere out that hopefully fits the bill. I'll give you a ring then say around 9.30, or 10ish if I sleep in. Is that OK?'

'Yes, that sounds great. See you then. Love to Sheba.'

'Bye Leonora,' he said and put the 'phone down, not really sure whether it had been a wise move or not to ring her.

Leonora put the 'phone down thoughtfully too. She turned round to see five big eyes gazing at her through the door from the hallway.

'Who was that?' said little crutch number five in its very small voice.

'Was it Leonard?' asked little crutch number three.

'Idiot!' said little crutch number one.

'Of course it wasn't Leonard,' said little crutch number two.

'It was Mark,' said little crutch number one. 'I think.'

They were both about to kick little crutch number three and then caught Leonora's warning look.

'Who's Mark?' asked little crutch number four hesitantly.

Leonora wondered whether to wait and see what little crutches number one and two would have to say about her non-relationship with Mark, but decided against it. They might say something she didn't want to hear. They could be uncannily accurate sometimes.

'He's a friend with a nice dog who I haven't seen for a while,' she said hastily. And glared at numbers one and two to make sure they didn't say any more. Although she didn't know why she was wasting her time. As soon as she was out of the way, no doubt they would fill the other three in on all the details.

'I've agreed to go for a walk with them tomorrow morning.'

'Ooooh goody. Where are we going? Are we going geocaching?' asked little crutch number three.

'Stupid!' said little crutch number one.

'Leonora said I,' added little crutch number two.

'And stop mentioning geocaching,' said little crutch number one.

And this time they couldn't resist giving the third little crutch a hefty kick on its shins (if little crutches have shins) and down it crashed.

Leonora sighed. 'Come on you two. Stop picking on number three. There's no point pretending I'm not upset about Leonard, and it's not number three's fault that you two have lived here longer and know more about my life.' She picked up the third little crutch and leaned it back against the wall.

'But they are right. I'm going on my own. Sorry about that.'

She walked into the kitchen and poured a large glass of wine. She took it back into the sitting room, lay on the sofa and wondered what tomorrow would bring.