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Blue Rock Cafe

Date: 06:57:11 on Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Name: China Blue
Subject: The Accountant

A week ago today I had a phone call from a woman whose first words to me were, “Are you fucking my husband?”

The phone she was calling from belonged to a man who has been a client of mine for nearly three years. In all that time I had no idea he had a wife, every second Friday he spent the night in my hotel suite.

I loathed him, refused to kiss him and sex was not on the menu. He was nothing but kind toward me, generous and caring, he made my skin crawl. I feel like I fleeced him, I was his addiction.

I was so shocked to hear from this woman who said she was his wife, my heart started racing, I couldn’t catch my breath. Why had he lied to me? It would have made so much more sense for him to have been honest. I would never have called his house; I would never have left a message on his answer phone.

This man was who I base my antagonist on, writing about him I decided he was the obsessive client who holds Allessandra against her will. A client who has a breakdown – little did I know, he did. He quit his job and I had an operation, the timing was right – I told him that I couldn’t see him as a client anymore but that we could be friends.

Every few weeks we would go out for dinner or the movies, no big deal. For the past six months I have felt nothing but pity for this sad, single man.

While his wife was talking to me, he was threatening to kill himself with a knife. She had locked him out of the house after grabbing his cell phone to find my number. “Are you aware that he is an alcoholic? Do you realise he suffers from manic-depression?”

He never had a single drink when he was with me. She told me how angry he would get at her, the screaming at her in rage. It was as though she was talking about a totally different man, he was so soft with me.

The police took him away to a mental health facility. She and I spoke that night for three hours and again the next night. I was completely honest with her, told her absolutely everything.

This woman amazed me; she didn’t blame me for any of it. She has spent the past three years trying to get him help, tried desperately to get him into an alcohol treatment program suffering a miscarriage along the way. He had quit his job five months ago and they were $9k behind in their mortgage.

Here I was, oblivious and yet had I known he was married I don’t know that it would have made any difference. I had thought him single, yes but a lot of my clients are married and I always managed to justify it by telling myself that I didn’t make any vows – it wasn’t my problem.

I have decided to give her a thousand dollars, not nearly enough, nowhere near the amount I earned from him over the past few years but it is something. As hard as it is to believe, we have become friends.

I admire her strength, her humour and wish I had one ounce of her courage. During our conversations she told me their love story, how she knew as soon as she met him that he was going to be her husband. The first three years of their marriage were perfect, he was attentive, kind, sweet, and generous – exactly how he had treated me this past few years.

I haven’t slept in a week. This experience has been invaluable for the three of us. He is getting the help he needs, on medication and seeing a psychiatrist. She is sticking with this man she loves figuring if they can survive this, they can survive anything.

This morning, a week since her first phone call, I found it impossible to stop crying. I realised the reason I so loathed him had nothing to do with him and everything to do with how I felt about myself. That this decent man who treated me with dignity and respect earned my contempt speaks volumes.

I started thinking about how much I will miss his annoying text messages, how he always opened the door for me when we went out, how he always thanked me for a wonderful time. He got lost somewhere along the way and I certainly don’t think I made his life any easier.

I wrote a heartfelt email to him at 4am, sent it to her and told her to forward it on if she thought it appropriate. She did and then asked me to call her, I couldn’t. I spent the day weeping – feeling so unworthy of her kindness. She has a depth to her character that I find inspirational.

Tonight I called her and before I knew it I started crying again and telling her how sorry I am for my part in her misery. She listened to me for a bit before telling me that she was grateful that I had come into their lives, that if it weren’t for my honesty she would have left him, that she believes if he hadn’t found me he could have been lost forever.

I am blessed. As crazy as this might sound, I can see the three of us sitting down together one day in the future and I hope to become their friend. This experience has changed me, I don’t know what that means exactly because here I am about to pack up and head off to Auckland for a few days but I think I am just about done.

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