I met Jackie on an internet dating site. I wasn't sure why she was using the site as she was in a pretty heavy relationship despite the fact she was going through a messy divorce. She was a 35 year old who ran her own small theatre group that went in to schools and educated kids through the mediums of drama, dance and singing. She had been lead singer in a group which had enjoyed a little success around the live gig circuit and done some acting, small parts in made for TV dramas. Running her own business gave her the independence she seemed to thrive on, though she did see herself as mainly an actress.
Perhaps because I was going through my own divorce at the time we struck up a good friendship and regularly exchanged emails, but we did not meet as I was dating on and off and Jackie's situation meant she wasn't looking for anything more than friendship.
Our exchanges covered many topics and would often be quite frank about our lives, loves and relationships. Jackie had been married to an overly possessive man who was some 12 years older than she was. They had a daughter together who was now 2 years old and the marriage disintegrated shortly after the birth.
Through our emails we learned about each other in a way that you wouldn't do if picking someone up at a bar or club. There was no pressure on either of us to impress the other and we could both support each other through moments of vulnerability brought about by our relative situations.
After a few months I was coming to the end of a short relationship with a teacher. I had moved in to her house which was close to my place of work but she was becoming increasingly jealous of time I was spending with my children on a weekend who were then 17 and 19 years old. She would complain that instead of sitting and waiting for me to get back to her place on a Sunday afternoon she could be off doing other things with other people. This came about because on a couple of occasions I was less than an hour later back to her house than I had said I would be.
I could feel the relationship was coming to an end as I felt increasingly suffocated by the situation and wanted to be free. My own divorce had recently been finalized but the teacher, despite being separated from her estranged husband for five years was not divorced.
During one heated debate about commitment I found myself arguing in a way that with hindsight could have backfired. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was 30 minutes late home.
"Where have you been," the teacher asked me.
"You know, with the kids," I retorted, irritated at her attitude given I was only a little later than expected.
"Well, I could have gone out this afternoon instead of sitting here on my backside waiting for you to grace me with your presence. You are so selfish,'' she complained, stomping off to the kitchen before calling back, "and I don't think you are committed to this relationship at all!"
I followed her and couldn't stop myself from replying, "Selfish? I'm selfish and I am not committed? Well, what about you? You aren't even divorced. It may be five years since you left your husband but you haven't moved on and I have a problem with that. You know my divorce has been completed and I am free to remarry and that's what I want to do. The fact you aren't free causes a problem for any future we may have."
The teacher was clearly taken aback by my response and could offer no answer, though it would have been all too easy for her to say that she would push for her divorce to be sorted out and I may have been trapped.
Her failure to respond played in to my hands and sensing the moment I said in a conciliatory tone, "Well, I guess we don't really have anywhere to go now except our separate ways. It is you that can't commit to this relationship because you are not free and have done nothing to cut those final ties with your husband. You really need to think about what you are doing as you either want to move on with your life or be constrained by your past."
With that I went off to the bedroom an began to pack and despite the pleading and the tears I left, feeling it was better to do this now than let the relationship limp on when the conclusion would be just the same.
And so I found myself single again. I took the view I did not want to rush in to anything else and would just spend time working and enjoying my own company and the freedom of living alone for a while.
I continued to exchange emails with Jackie and one evening she asked me for my telephone number so we could speak. She was unhappy with her boyfriend who she felt was showing the same character traits of her husband, being too possessive of her.
A week later I got home from work about 7pm and the phone rang. It was Jackie.
"Hi John," she said in a voice that was without trace of regional accent, "I am so glad we can finally speak."
"It's so nice to hear your voice Jackie," I replied, a little awkwardly I thought.
Anyway, I relaxed in to the conversation and we talked for an hour about many things we'd covered in our email exchanges, silly things like favorite actors, books and films, and more serious issue like the current economic climate and the need for political intervention in controlling the economy.
This was not the talk of two suitors flirting. It was the chat of friends with similar interests and intellect who were drawn to each other as on the common ground that each had an ex-spouse who'd acted awfully.
Jackie drew the conversation towards an end by saying, "Well, it's been lovely talking with you. I love the fact you listen to what I have to say and we can stimulate each other's interest. It would be really nice to meet up, perhaps for a coffee."
"I could come down to the city on the train and meet you," I volunteered, "it's only a 30 minute trip and we could go to one of the nice old tea rooms by the river." Jackie lived near the historic city of York and there were many quaint cafes and tea rooms amongst the ancient cobbled streets.
"That would be great," she replied, "how about 11am next Thursday?"
I didn't even need to look at my diary to say yes and the arrangements were made.
As our meeting approached I was a little nervous, but reminded myself we were meeting as friends. Jackie was in a relationship, albeit an unhappy one, and I was newly single again and quite happy with that state. However, I had grown to like writing to Jackie and didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize a friendship that had grown over some six months now.
My trip by train to York couldn't pass quickly enough. It took just 25 minutes for the train to cover the 60 miles from my home town and could do nothing but stare out of the window throughout the journey as my mind was whirring and I couldn't concentrate on the newspaper I bought at the station.
In an effort to ensure I was punctual I actually got to our meeting point an hour ahead of time and so decided to wander through the Shambles, houses built in narrow streets in the middle ages. A narrow road, now traffic free, ran through the streets and the roofs of house on opposite sides of the street almost met above the road, giving the place a cozy, almost claustrophobic feel.
Time ticked by and at the allotted hour I returned to the café where we'd agreed to meet. We had exchanged photos some time ago and we immediately recognized each other.
I was immediately struck by how attractive I found Jackie. Her photos had not done her justice. She was about 5 foot 7, had dark brown hair that was naturally wavy and tumbled almost to her shoulders. She was of average build, perhaps a size 10-12 (UK) and stylishly dressed.
