the worst man in the world sitting there in front of that counselor all those years later? He felt so ashamed at that moment he literally couldn’t speak. This turned out to be an example of him “shutting down,” “being emotionally distant,” “not giving a shit”—and on it went until he no longer did give a shit and he was numbly signing the papers.
What was that phrase his wife used to describe him? As if it were funny? “Amateur human being.” She’d even said it to the counselor.
A few months after that counseling session it occurred to him that there were various things he’d done in that marriage for which he was pretty sure he’d never been thanked or acknowledged. He took care of everything to do with her car, for example. The amateur human being kept her car filled with petrol. He’d often wondered if she thought it had some sort of self-filling mechanism. He got her car serviced once a year. Did her tax return.
Wasn’t it possible they both took each other for granted? Wasn’t it possible that taking each other for granted was one of the benefits of marriage?
But it was too late by then.
Now it was five years since the separation and they were the best five years of his ex-wife’s life. She was back in touch with her “true self.” She lived on her own and did evening courses and went on weekends away with a gaggle of blissfully divorced women. In fact, they often came to places like this. His ex now had a “daily meditation practice.” “How long do you practice before you get it right?” Tony had asked, and she’d rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck there. Whenever she talked to Tony these days she kept stopping to breathe deeply. Come to think of it, she looked like she was breathing through a straw.
Tony pulled up his board shorts.
Jesus Christ.
They must have shrunk badly. He’d probably washed them the wrong way. In cold water. Or hot water. The wrong water. He tugged at the fabric with all his strength and slid the button through the buttonhole.
Done. Except he couldn’t breathe.
He coughed and the button pinged free, skittering across the floorboards. He laughed out loud with disbelief and looked down at the huge hairy bulge of his stomach. It seemed to belong to someone else.
He remembered a different body. A different time. The almighty roar of an ecstatic crowd. The way the sound used to vibrate in his chest. Once there had been no barrier at all between his mind and his body. He thought “run” and he ran. He thought “jump” and he jumped.
He rolled down his shorts so that they sat beneath his belly, and thought of his ex-wife, six months pregnant, doing the same thing with an elastic-waisted skirt.
He picked up his room key and put a white bath towel over his shoulder. Were these towels allowed outside? There was probably a clause in the contract about it. Old mate the beanstalk would be able to tell him. Presumably a lawyer. Tony knew all about lawyers.
He left his room. The house was as quiet and still as a church. He opened the front door and walked out into the afternoon heat and down the paved path that led to the pool.
A woman walked back toward him in the opposite direction wearing a sporty black swimsuit and a sarong tied at her waist. The one with the chunky plait of hair like a horse’s tail and brightly colored cat’s-eye glasses. Tony had her pegged: intellectual left-wing feminist. She would write Tony off after five minutes of conversation. Still, he’d rather be ignored by the feminist than interact with Loony Woman.
The path was too narrow for them to pass each other, so Tony stood to one side, which hopefully would not offend her feminist principles, like that time when he’d held open a door for a woman and she’d hissed, “I can open it myself, thanks.” He’d thought about letting it slam in her face, but he didn’t, of course, he just smiled like a gormless goon, because not every man was capable of violence toward women even if they did have the occasional violent thought.
This woman didn’t make eye contact, but lifted her hand in thanks as if she were lifting it from the steering wheel of a car to thank him for letting her into his lane, and it was only after she’d