Emma and I had been married for twentysix years. We met at university, married after graduation and, two years later, welcomed our son, Tommy. It was an ordinary life, just like anyone elses.
When Tommy grew up, married and moved to London with his wife, everything at home shifted. Suddenly we had nothing to talk about, and we didnt even feel the need to. We knew each other inside out, could finish each others sentences with a glance, yet we fell into long silences.
Back when I first started work after university, there was a woman in the office, about fortyfive, who always seemed older than her years. She would take winter holidays and always returned with a perfectly even tan. Her short, boyish blond haircut only highlighted the sunkissed colour of her skin.
Must be a salon, a junior colleague whispered to Emma.
One day Emma couldnt hold back any longer and asked the woman where she got such a winter glow.
Spent a week at a ski resort with my husband, she replied.
Really? At your age? Emma gasped.
The woman laughed heartily.
At fortyfive, Im still in my prime. Youll learn that when you reach my age its the real, mature youth. Remember, lass, boredom is the biggest enemy of a marriage. All affairs and divorces start with it. When the children are grown, life settles into a quiet rhythm, and thats when men start to feel trapped. We women never get a moment to be bored. We work, look after the kids, manage the house, while the man lounges on the sofa, wondering how to use his idle energy. Some drink, some look for new thrills, as the saying goes, they go hunting for a new woman.
I was foolish, thinking my husband was just exhausted from work, that it was harmless to sit in front of the telly, not drinking, and that was fine. I was buzzing around the house like a busy bee. Then one day he announced he had fallen for another woman, that life with me was dull, and he left. Can you imagine?
When I remarried, I treated my husband differently. I made him share the chores, we spent weekends out of town, went walking in the countryside, and in winter we hit the ski slopes. I never let him sit idle on the sofa. Were still together, the kids are grown, and we travel around the UK. It may not suit everyone, but theres a lesson in it.
Emma took that womans words to heart. She began to notice that James, after a hearty dinner, would drift to the sofa and stare at the television. It became harder to coax him out of the house. He used to go trekking, whitewater rafting on fast rivers, and hed always surprise her with birthday gifts.
She tried to stir him up, buying theatre tickets, arranging a cruise on the River Thames aboard a threedecked boat.
At the theatre James dozed off, at the guests house he yawned after a couple of glasses of wine, and he always rushed back to his beloved sofa. On the boat he complained about the cramped cabin. Skiing was out of the question; his growing belly made him resist any vigorous sport.
When Emma suggested a cinema outing, he looked at her with those sad eyes and said, Where are you taking me? I just want to sleep in on the weekend. Go with your friends.
In the early years of their marriage James would go camping with his mates. They formed a tightknit crew, loved rafting down rapid rivers, and James could play a decent tune on his guitar and sing a bit.
Emma never joined them work never gave her leave, then she was pregnant, then she stayed home with the little Tommy.
Dont let him off the leash, warned Emmas mother. He might find a hobby buddy and drift away.
Cheating doesnt need a campsite. You can find someone right here at home, Emma replied, trusting James and waiting for his return from the hills.
Eventually the camping leader started a family, and the trips stopped.
One lazy Sunday Emma sat beside James on the sofa with an album. At first she was reluctant, but soon she was flipping through the pictures, smiling.
Dont you want to relive the old days, feel the youth again? she asked.
No, and with whom? Everyones got their own lives, grandchildren.
With me. Ive never been on your expeditions. Show some initiative, call your old mates, maybe someone will join.
Youre kidding, right? We were wild and reckless back then; now
Now were just too sensible? Emma quipped, closing the album with a puff of dust. Then lets go to the theatre this weekend, have some culture, she said.
James thought about it. Later, over dinner, he said, Ive spoken to a mate. He can plot a route, we still have the old tents. We could rent a raft from the outdoor centre. Emma saw his eyes light up, and that made her happy.
He warned, Itll be tough for a beginner. River rapids, mosquitoes, sleeping on the ground in sleeping bags, no showers, no proper toilet, youll have to crawl under bushes. Youll probably quit on day one.
I wont quit, Emma promised.
Fine, James replied, eyeing her manicured nails, fluffy slippers and a robe with little birds. Youll need proper gear, not high heels.
They went shopping together; he wouldnt let her off. I know youll splurge on swimsuits and dresses, but for a trek you need warm clothes and sturdy boots.
Emma obeyed, eager to prove herself. Soon the backpacks were packed.
Put it on, lets see how you handle it, James said.
She hoisted the heavy pack, grimaced as it weighed her down, knowing shed have to trudge over uneven ground, through ditches and thickets.
Take it off, James ordered. Lets see what youve got inside.
She set the pack down, relieved, as he fished out curlers, a makeup case, a hairdryer, jars of cream, shampoos and a heap of summer clotheseverything suitable for a garden party, not a mountain trek.
Youll be swarmed by mosquitoes, he laughed. Maybe youd rather stay home? He looked at her with mock pity.
She stared, bewildered, as he stripped the bag of everything nonessential, leaving only the basics. The pack became much lighter.
I can manage, Emma said, feeling a surge of confidence.
She remembered how she had tried to pull James into the theatre and the arts, pushing her own interests, and he had eventually gone along. As his partner, she felt she should stand by him through both hardship and joy.
The closer they got to the departure point, the more doubts gnawed at Emma. At the railway platform they waited for the train that would take them away from civilization. Apart from James, three other men and a woman were on board.
Are your other friends divorced? Emma asked softly.
No, their wives are with the grandchildren, James replied.
The journey was lively; the men told funny anecdotes, James dusted off his guitar from the loft and played a few chords. Emma decided that if things went on like this, she could handle it and enjoy herself.
When they finally left the station and trekked a few kilometres from the tracks, the packs weight began to ache her back, her legs trembled with fatigue, and sweat drenched her face. She felt ashamed to complain while the men lugged sleeping bags, tents and a deflated boat.
The countryside was beautiful, but Emma focused only on not stumbling or hurting herself. When they reached the river, she wanted to lie on the grass and never move again. The men quickly lit a fire and set up their tents as if they hadnt a clue how tired they were.
Give it time, encouraged Tanya, another womans wife. Lets fetch water, we need to cook dinner.
Tears welled up; all she wanted was a hot shower and a soft bed.
Then she got pulled in. James played his guitar by the fire, his voice rich and warm. He seemed a different manalive, cheerful, the same James she had fallen for years ago.
The next morning, as he examined the blisters on her hands from the rafting, he asked, Thinking of running away?
No, she answered firmly.
Approaching the rapids, Emma hesitated. The river roared, sharp stones jutted from the water. She wanted to suggest staying on the bank, but seeing Jamess amused grin, she kept quiet, clinging to the rafts side, afraid of being tossed into the icy water.
When the rapids finally passed, she exhaled a huge sigh and shouted with joy louder than anyone else.
A week later they returned home, exhausted but brimming with stories. Emma realised she would miss the new friends, the songs around the fire, the fresh air and the silence.
After a hot shower and a hearty dinner, they sat sidebyside at the laptop, scrolling through photos, teasing each other. They hadnt done that in ages. The trek had brought them together again; they now shared common interests. They fell asleep in each others arms, just like in their early days.
Next year well do another trek? Emma asked, snuggling close to Jamess warm side.
You liked it? he laughed. Its not a night at the theatre or a dinner out. Its life.
Ill be better prepared now. You wont be embarrassed for me, she promised.
It wasnt embarrassing for me. For a beginner, you were brilliant. I didnt expect it. You surprised me, James replied.
Emma flushed at the praise.
When their son called, she rattled off the whole adventure.
Your lives are so eventful, I thought youd be bored, missing each other.
Were not bored. How are things with you? she asked.
Were expecting a baby, he announced.
After her holiday, Emma returned to work, eyes alight and a beaded bracelet on her wrist.
Did you go south? You look sunkissed, a colleague remarked, pointing at the bracelet.
Its a charm. A shaman gave it to me, Emma replied.
So, if you want to rekindle the spark in your marriage, dont just sit at homeshare your partners interests. Extreme adventures may not suit everyone, but you can always find something else. As one writer once said, Never regret the effort you put into saving love.
