End of a Century (1999)
Summer 1999.
It started with a kiss.
No. No it didn't.
Really, it didn't.
Like most of my interactions with the opposite sex, it started with a drink.
Actually, nothing got started without quite a few drinks. Otherwise, I was hopeless. The first couple of pints would just about calm me down, and then after another one or two, I might be able to speak to other human beings... And after that...
Without the promise of alcohol - and lots of it - I would dread social situations. Everybody I worked with seemed to be married or in serious, long-term relationships. How could I speak to any of them? They were grown-ups with grown-up lives and experiences. I was a 26 year old child. Surely I'd get 'found out'.
Alcohol took all of that fear away - at least for a little while. The time would fly by. I'd find myself talking and laughing and generally not worrying about shit.
Apart from those work related piss-ups I didn't get out much. I was working on Tyneside but I still lived at my Mam's house in Aycliffe. Although I'd been working in radio advertising for five years, the money was shite and I definitely couldn't afford a car. The commute was a bastard. I spent almost as much time on buses as I spent in the office. It didn't leave me with very much time (or enthusiasm) for socialising.
Most Thursday evenings I'd go to a pub in Aycliffe with a couple of my old school friends - Colin* and Laura*. It was nothing more than a few pints, a pub quiz and maybe a pizza on the way home - but it was OK. Every now and again Colin and Laura would try to fix me up with one of their friends. It was always a disaster. I'd be far too quiet or too damn loud. It was difficult to predict which version of Me would show up; Shy Me or Loud-mouthed-Arse Me... Neither was very popular with the opposite sex.
I felt like I'd missed the boat when it came to relationships. Colin and Laura had been going out since we were at school. How did everybody else manage to become part of a couple? How did you know if somebody liked you? And how were you supposed to ask them out? Was it as simple as; "let's go for a coffee?" or "would you like to go to dinner?" It sounded so corny. I couldn't imagine myself ever having the confidence to say that shit.
There was also the transport problem; "would you like to go to dinner? 8pm? Friday? I'll meet you at the bus stop..." And it's not like I could invite anybody back to my place; "we'll have to be quiet in case my Mam hears."
I knew I wasn't much of a catch. At the age of 26 I was quite prepared to give up.
In August 1999, everything changed. A woman from work kissed me. On the mouth!
Kate* was the first person I'd spoken to when I started at the radio station. She was an admin assistant and sometimes covered the reception desk. I saw her every day but I don't think we had a proper conversation before that Friday night on the Quayside. She was a friendly, funny, but ever-so-slightly intimidating presence at work.
We mainly worked with sales reps and radio presenters. Lots of them were earning far too much money and spending it on ridiculously expensive clothes, shoes, haircuts and fake tans. Kate was always ready with a few (mainly good natured) jibes. She could be witheringly sarcastic and swore like a trooper.
Just a few weeks earlier I'd turned up for work in a leather jacket. It was a bit too new and a bit too shiny and Kate had looked me up and down, raised an eyebrow and said; "what's happened to you? Are you auditioning for fucking Boyzone?" I'd laughed and blushed at the same time.
Like me, Kate didn't live in Newcastle, so she'd arranged to crash at the house of a co-worker - Kelly*. Kelly worked in the Sales Department but she was otherwise OK. She lived in Gateshead and was always willing to open her house to visitors at the end of our Quayside pub crawls. At some point in the evening Kate realised she'd lost track of Kelly, and wanted to look for her. I offered to go along, just so Kate wouldn't be going into numerous crowded pubs and bars on her own.
Back then, there was a floating night club on the River Tyne - a rickety old cruise ship called the Tuxedo Princess. It had a revolving dance floor and a lingering smell of lager and mildew. It was a bear pit. Our Friday night outings always ended on the Tuxedo Princess, so Kate figured it was the best place to wait for Kelly.
I can't really remember much of what we talked about. It all went by in a blur because I was at least five pints into the evening by the time we hit the boat. Kate was a smoker and it was a clear Summer night, so we took our drinks and sat at an outdoor table on the upper deck. As the temperature started to drop I asked if Kate wanted to borrow my jacket. She smiled and wrapped it around herself.
At some point Kate asked if I had a girlfriend. I started waffling - making excuses about work and travel and still living at home (see above) and Kate asked if I liked any of the women we worked with. I told her they all seemed to have boyfriends but Kate was quite dismissive about that. She seemed to know all the gossip. She knew who was "pissed off" with their partners and who was "looking elsewhere." She said it was one of the perks of covering shifts on the reception desk - she knew who called who and how many times. It turned out the company phone bill paid for a lot of personal calls.
Kate said most of the women at work thought I was "lovely" and "a bit of a sweetie." That was terrible news. In my very limited experience, women didn't like "lovely" or "sweet" blokes - they liked confident, assertive men. At least that's what my last girlfriend had said on the day she dumped me.
Kate said I didn't seem to be "a fucking cave-man like most of the wankers at work." She talked about the suggestive, borderline explicit comments she regularly received from some of the presenters and sales reps. She didn't sound particularly offended or disgusted by their patter - just very, very, weary.
Then Kate really dropped a bombshell. She said she'd often thought about "doing the Mrs Robinson thing" with me.
I nearly choked on my pint (number six for the evening, fact fans).
That was probably the only time Kate ever made a reference to the age difference. She was 13 years older than me. I have to admit, I'd never seen Kate as anything other than a co-worker. Yes, she was older than me, but more importantly, she was seriously hot. At best, I considered myself a 2 or a 3 but Kate was definitely an 8 or a 9. She had an air of sexual confidence that I found slightly terrifying. Was that because she was older? She just seemed to be so comfortable in her own skin.
And she'd thought about seducing me?
Fuck off.
No chance.
She must have been taking the piss
Surely?
But then she kissed me. And it's a good job she did, because I'd have never summoned up the courage to kiss her. I'd always been hopeless at that kind of thing. The few relationships I'd had were always the result of somebody else making the first move. Or alcohol.
We never did find Kelly on the Tuxedo Princess. At about quarter to two in the morning we gave up and got into a taxi. We held hands and kissed all the way to Kelly's house.
Luckily, Kelly was at home when we got there. She opened the door and looked at Kate and I with a very bemused expression; "I wasn't expecting you to turn up together". Kate still had my jacket draped around her shoulders. I suddenly realised I might be wearing a lot of Kate's lipstick and put my hand up to my face. Kelly was delighted. She welcomed us in, put the kettle on, winked at Kate and then disappeared off to bed.
Kate quite often stayed at Kelly's house so she'd be taking the spare room. Some pillows and a duvet had been left on the living room couch for me. Kate and I made coffee and sat in front of the TV. I don't know how long we spent snogging, whispering and giggling but it didn't go any further than that.
Eventually, Kate went up to bed and I just lay there on the couch. I was wide awake, still quite drunk and in a state of mild shock.
I'd just been snogging Kate from work.
Kate!
From work!
How the hell did that happen?
The following morning, things were a bit awkward. Breakfast was a surreal experience. Kelly seemed hyperactive - buzzing around with toast and coffee and giggling like a maniac. Kate was very quiet. I assumed she'd be full of remorse. I wanted to ask her so many questions. How much had she had to drink? Had it all been a terrible mistake? Had I imagined all the snogging?
But I just sat there, eating toast and blushing.
Before I left to get the bus home I did ask Kate if I could have her phone number. That was the sort of thing I was supposed to say, right? I felt like we really needed to talk. She laughed. "If you really want my fucking number it's on the office contact list."
Did that mean she wanted me to call? Or was she giving me the brush off? Fuck fuck fuck. Was this going to be a thing? Or was it just a stupid, drunken one-off?
Kelly couldn't keep quiet at work. She said she was "thrilled" for us. The gossip quickly spread. Most people thought it was a joke. Nobody believed that a woman like Kate could possibly be interested in a nerdy boy like me. One of our co-workers snorted; "as if that'd ever happen". Another said; "Kate must be bloody desperate!"
I kept quiet.
I did get Kate's number from the office. I called her. Kate was very direct; "I had a great time on Friday. It's nobody's business but ours (I assumed she was referring to Kelly). We're two adults. We both knew what we were doing".
She said I'd been a perfect gentleman all evening. Had I?
What the hell sort of blokes was she used to?
I knew Kate was single. Just after Christmas she'd left her husband and this had caused a lot of excitement at work. For one thing, most of the blokes were desperate to shag Kate and assumed she'd be "gagging for it" now she was single.
Kate's husband was still lurking in the background. They'd been together for nearly 20 years - and they had a couple of kids. They still had a lot to sort out and on the surface, everything seemed to be quite civil. Her husband showed up at the office quite often, sometimes with flowers. Kate would put them straight in the bin behind the reception desk. At other times he'd appear in the car park - he'd take Kate's car away to be serviced, or fill up the petrol tank and add air to the tyres. He was still doing a lot of the husband-y things he did when they were together.
Kate told me horror stories about what life had been like just before their separation. Her husband worked long hours. He drank too much. She thought he might be having affairs with his co-workers. He knew he had the financial upper hand. He had an extremely well paid job and was always putting her down as a "glorified secretary" with a "joke of a job." When Kate moved out, she'd taken the kids and rented a small house. She struggled to make ends meet.
Kate and I started meeting up at weekends. We didn't really go on dates. We never went to the pictures or out to restaurants. We'd sometimes go out for a drink, but Kate was always careful to find a pub where we wouldn't bump into anybody from work. We'd sometimes spend Friday nights in hotels on the Quayside. We'd only go to Kate's house if her kids were staying with their Dad.
On Thursday evenings I was still going to the pub with Colin and Laura. I thought about inviting Kate along to meet them, but when I told them I was dating a 39 year-old they thought it was hilarious. They made a lot of jokes about me "grabbing a granny" and having a "May To December romance". I tried to take it in good humour. I did want to introduce Kate to them, just so they could see how funny, sweary and hot she was. But it never happened.
After a month or two it started to feel like we were a proper couple. We had a good time together and we laughed a lot.
But slowly I realised... Kate was keeping our relationship separate from the rest of her life.
Kate didn't introduce me to her kids. I kind of understood that. Her kids were probably confused and upset by their parents breaking up - introducing a new bloke might make things worse. But she didn't introduce me to her brother or her parents, either. Was she worried about the age difference? Was she embarrassed by me? Was this just a 'fling?'
I did invite Kate to meet my family. We went for a pub lunch. It was more than a bit awkward. Kate was her usual sharp and funny self - but my Mam sat with a face like thunder. Later on, she'd rail at me... "What do think you're doing, running around with a much older woman? I bet she lies about her age - she's older than thirty-bloody-nine! And what the hell's she playing at? She should be looking after her bloody kids, not chasing young lads!"
Looking back - and it really pains me to say this - but Mam was right. Probably not for the reason she thought she was, but Mam was absolutely right. I shouldn't have been dating Kate. Kate was an adult - she'd done all the big, important adult things; marriage - credit cards - kids - holidays - mortgage. Just the thought of that filled me with terror.
Kate also told me about a previous relationship she'd had with a co-worker. It had happened while she was still living with her husband. Kate painted a picture of herself as a lonely, neglected wife, desperate for some affection - so she'd had a year long affair with Bill*. And I knew Bill! I'd worked with him! He'd left about eighteen months earlier. Kate said he'd "had to get a new job" when our Managing Director found out about the affair. Kate said Bill asked her to run away with him. He was still sending flowers and love letters. She'd put them in the bin behind the reception desk. Kate said she felt bad because Bill was married, too. She said she didn't want to break up his family.
This was all too much adult stuff for me. Way too much.
Affairs!
Separations!
Kate had two other blokes vying for her attention.
She had all of that shared history with her husband... Their home, their kids...
And Bill - he'd left our office and gotten a much better job. He was now a company director! He was prepared to give up everything for Kate.
I just couldn't work out what Kate saw in me. I still lived at my Mam's house. I didn't have a car. I wasn't a manager or a company director. I thought it was only a matter of time before Kate realised she'd made a terrible mistake.
I knew I wouldn't be able to cope if Kate dumped me. I expected it to happen at any moment. I was waiting for a "we need to talk..." text message. I thought she'd tell me she was going back to her husband - or maybe she'd phone me from Bill's company car as they disappeared over the horizon together...
Kate had been very open and honest about her relationship with Bill and she'd made no secret of her husband's attempts to win her back. Was she dropping hints? The fear of losing her became unbearable. I'd never felt like that about anybody before.
So what did I do?
I started acting like an arsehole.
I became jealous and unreasonable if Kate didn't immediately reply to my calls or texts.
I wanted to know where she was and who she was with at all times.
I told her I couldn't trust her because of what had happened with Bill.
I'd get jealous and snap at her if she went for a coffee or a cigarette break without telling me.
I started asking her why she'd never introduced me to her parents or her kids...
I knew I was pushing her away. She'd left her husband because of his unreasonable, aggressive behaviour and now I was behaving like a prick, too.
Kate was confused.
And hurt.
And then she was very, very angry.
Kate told me she wasn't going to put up with any of my "fucking bullshit." She had her kids to think about. She'd had enough of "bloody fucking men pissing (her) about."
I couldn't deal with it. By December 1999 my behaviour was intolerable and I was drinking far too much. Alcohol had calmed me down in social situations - I hoped it would have a similar effect on my relationship problems. But it just made things worse.
Everything completely fell apart on another Friday night in Newcastle. I made a complete twat of myself. I threatened to throw myself in the Tyne if Kate wouldn't speak to me. I'd driven her away but I wanted her back. It was the first time I didn't make it as far as the Tuxedo Princess.
The people I worked with no longer thought I was "lovely" or "a bit of a sweetie."
Just like Bill, I had to leave my job. Unlike Bill, I lost everything.
I wasn't a grown up.
And I did get found out.
It had started with a drink, and it ended up with far too many.
Ultimately, I wound up on a Psychiatric ward in Darlington. And that's when I was told to stop drinking. The Doctors replaced Budweiser and Southern Comfort with Fluoxetine and Seroxat.
Colin and Laura were my only hospital visitors. They were appalled by what I'd done and shocked to see me in a Psychiatric unit, but they did support me through it.
I never saw Kate again.
A few years later I re-connected with a couple of my former co-workers via Facebook. It wasn't easy. They'd seen (and heard) me at my very worst. I did my best to apologise.
I also found out that Kate quit her job not long after I did.
And she went back to her husband.
As far as I know, they're still together. And Bill's still with his wife, too.
*As ever, all the names have been changed. I'm sorry, everybody.
