He had loved in the past. He had loved and lost a stunning blonde beauty who was as beautiful when she woke up as she was when she went to bed. She was everything and he loved her to bits.
Gary did not mind that he had to work to keep the house, to pay the mortgage, to buy groceries, put petrol in the car, vacations, everything. It was all worth it just to have her be his wife, to be in her company and enjoy her airy, almost ethereal way of being.
Right after the Celtic Tiger years he’d managed to buy the house, a huge house, five bedrooms, three bathrooms, living, dining and a huge kitchen. Quietly he was preparing for that big Irish family he had always dreamed of.
Ethel loved the house, she was enthralled with the bright rooms, the high ceilings, the airy spaces. They were happy. So happy.
When coming back from work Gary would notice that the house developed little pockets of untidiness, but as the house was so big these were barely noticeable, so he ignored them and continued to enjoy his life of bliss.
As time went by, the pockets extended into whole sections of rooms that were dumping ground for all sorts of things, ranging from clothes to magazines, sometimes the odd cup or plate. Gary loved his amazing wife and was sure it was just something temporary. He started to work on the sections during the weekend trying to prevent them from taking over the space.
While Gary was busy sorting out the house, Ethel would go into town shopping, would have lunch with her friends, would complain about her boring husband that only cares about mundane things.
It wasn’t long before Gary was exhausted, spread thin between work, the home and meeting his wife’s ever changing demands. When he asked her for help, she complained that it was all too much while dumping a fresh batch of shopping bags on the floor and slumping in an armchair.
‘All too much! I cannot cope!’, her voice sounded truthful and Gary felt like a beast for asking that of her.
Work became really busy and Gray was exhausted when he got home. His dinners consisted mostly of canned beans and butter on toast. Soon the house was overrun with objects, untidiness, and dare I say, dirt.
Gary was heartbroken and felt like a stranger in his own life. What he did not know was that his wife was feeling the same, and one harsh, cold morning he was faced with the reality of it.
‘I am moving out!’, Gary’s heart crumbled into his chest and fell out becoming part of the chaos around him. And that was it. She left with a resounding slam of the door.
Gary’s life shattered. His heart was broken and his house was full of the debris of a life too painful to think of.
Somehow he managed to continue working, he was driven by this idea of hanging on the house, the only real, tangible and reliable thing in his life. So he worked for it and this purpose kept him alive. Yes, yes, alive, because dark, predatory thoughts often clouded his mind.
One evening, when he was coming back from work, stuck in the front door he found a little flyer advertising cleaning services. The name on the flyer did not sound Irish, but when he called the number he was surprised to be greeted by a thick Eastern European accent. The woman on the phone sounded just like those very dramatic Dracula accents that gave her a strange, surreal feel. She made him smile with her business like manner.
They agreed to a trial week to see if they got along and if he was happy with her work. Gary offered her slightly more than she was asking and he could hear the surprise in her voice. He did it because he was afraid otherwise she would just run out the door when she saw the mess his house was in.
She did not run, but after taking a tour of the house, Agatha, told him in a very heavy R accent that she could not do all the house in one week, but that she committed to the kitchen as that was, in her view, the dirtiest and the most important room in the house. Ah, and one bathroom. Hygiene was very important. Hadn’t he learnt anything from Covid? And she gave him a stern stare.
Gary agreed and smiled to the determined woman in front of him. They had a deal.
As it turned out Agatha did not have other jobs so she agreed to spend the full working day in his house. It was almost like magic what she was doing. After spending some money on many cleaning products Gary never even knew existed, she got to work. In two days the kitchen gleamed. Soon after, his bedroom and the ensuite were done, and in what seemed a very short time the entire house was spotless.
Agatha had put out for him bags and bags of things that he needed to sort out through and Gary just took the decision to take them to charity. The charity chops were delighted with the countless clothes and shoes they got.
When it was all finally cleared out and Gary came home he was surprised to see how relieved he felt. Like a heavy cloud had lifted. The house was a joy to be in, to inhabit and to make use of.
Agatha informed him that now that the work was so much lighter, if he wants she can reduce her hours.
‘No! I have a better proposition for you. Please work full time for me. I am happy for you to move in and I will not charge you rent or anything, your pay stays the same. Just maybe you can also cook some food … do groceries, what is needed. I will provide budget of course.’ Gary had started to omit articles like she did.
Agatha looked at him weighing his offer.
‘No sexual services you hear! I am a strong woman!’, and she flexed her arm showing an impressive bit of muscle.
Gary almost choked with the shock of her directness.
‘No … no other services needed …’
And they shook hands on it.
That was two years ago maybe, and ever since they developed their own unusual relationship. Agatha never behaved as an employee, she was more a keeper of the house and a carer to Gary.
Gary discovered that he was coming back to himself. He had time for hobbies, for friends, for vacations. He was thriving in work as he was free of worry. It was like the world had found that very fragile balance of well being and the universe allowed Gary to enjoy it.
One Sunday afternoon, after lunch, when Gary was napping in his favorite chair in the living room, he heard a key trying to open the entrance door and when that did not work, loud banging followed. Gary jumped up confused just in time to see Agatha running in the living room from the kitchen.
‘Are you ok?’, Agatha nodded and pointed to the door.
They both went closer and Gary took out his phone to check the outside cameras to see what was happening. To his shock it was his ex wife. They had gotten a divorce which she had swiftly agreed to, as she was engaged to be married with some Baron or other, and was keen not to lose him.
Both Gary and Agatha were staring at the phone looking at the disheveled woman banging on the door and yelling his name.
‘Garyyyyy! I know you are in there! Let me in! I love you!’
Gary took the easy way out and hid in the kitchen with Agatha.
‘She will go away … let’s have a cuppa …’
Agatha complied. She had seen weirder things.
‘Who is she?’
‘She was the perfect wife.’
And that was all, with that short statement Gary released himself from his past and felt grateful for his present.