The Stranding by Karen Viggers

listen to all your programs, Lex.’
    ‘I’ve been getting up to speed on the history of the industry. And I can’t see any rationale in the whole thing. Have you been following the arguments between the Japanese and the anti-whaling nations going to the IWC?’
    ‘What the fuck is the IWC?’
    Jilly looked incredulous. This was not going well.
    ‘The International Whaling Commission,’ he explained. God, he sounded so pathetic.
    ‘Lex, I didn’t come here for a lecture on whaling.’
    Jilly started pacing around the room. She was waving her hands now and Lex knew it was over before it had even started.
    ‘Why are you here then?’ he asked.
    ‘Your mother told me where you were. She said you wanted to see me. Though God knows why. I can’t see there’s anything we can achieve by this. Other than to get proceedings started.’
    Lex crumpled. She hadn’t come of her own volition after all. ‘Mum set this up then,’ he said. ‘She wants us to get back together.’
    Jilly looked at him without affection.
    ‘We could at least talk,’ he suggested.
    ‘There’s nothing to talk about.’
    She was looking around the house again, walking down the hallway to peer into the bedrooms. Lex didn’t follow her.
    ‘This house, Lex. What is it? A holiday house? I mean, it’s not even your style.’
    ‘What is my style, Jilly?’
    She laughed flippantly. ‘Not this anyway. This is hick. You’re more sophisticated than this.’ She laughed again. ‘Come on then. Talk. What is it you want to say to me?’
    Lex was tongue-tied. How did he start in on all of that?
    ‘Oh God.’ Jilly was impatient. ‘Don’t be pathetic. Your job is words. You’re good at them.’
    She opened the pantry and looked down at the bottles of wine and whisky.
    ‘So, you’re drinking.’ Her voice was a sneer.
    ‘From time to time.’
    She was going to hook right in, telling him what to do again. He’d already forgotten what it had been like . . . Jilly turning into a shrew after Isabel died . . . the endless barrage of complaints about his faults. Her nagging was part of what had driven him down here.
    ‘This doesn’t look like the stash of a casual drinker.’ She shut the pantry door.
    ‘You don’t have to be the moral police.’
    The look she cast over him was derogatory. ‘You’re my husband, for Christ’s sake. And you’re falling apart. No wonder I couldn’t live with this.’
    She sat down on the couch and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag.
    ‘What’s this?’ Lex asked. ‘You don’t smoke.’
    ‘You weren’t an alcoholic either.’
    ‘I’m not an alcoholic.’
    ‘Borderline, if you ask me.’
    ‘I’m not asking you.’
    ‘What are you asking me then?’
    ‘To try again. Let’s get some counselling. Try to work it through. There’s got to be something left.’
    She stood up and exhaled. Lex watched the smoke snaking up from her mouth. It looked so foreign. She turned to him and her eyes were empty.
    ‘Aren’t we a bit past that?’ she said.
    ‘We have nearly five years of history. Surely that’s worth something.’
    Jilly considered for a moment. ‘I think it’s best we leave ourselves some dignity,’ she said. ‘Leave our past undissected. We’ll only pull apart what we had.’
    ‘Haven’t we already pulled it apart?’
    ‘At least we still have some good memories from before Isabel died.’ Jilly put the cigarette to her lips and sucked in deeply. ‘That’s when we were our best.’
    ‘We could try to build on that.’
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    She paused and watched the sea rolling in. Lex felt despair congeal in his chest.
    ‘I think we should talk about a settlement,’ she said.
    ‘I’m not ready for that.’
    ‘Think about when you will be. We need to get this over and get on with our lives.’
    ‘What if I still love you?’ he asked.
    Jilly stared at him briefly then went into the kitchen and stubbed out her cigarette in the sink. She came back and sat down.