Me;
‘Craig! Look, I can’t talk at the moment.’
‘You did it, then…’
‘Erm…’
‘I knew you would. Are you glad?’
‘Erm…’
‘I’m really fucked off…’
‘Look, could I…’
‘Give me a bell, yeah? Soon?’
Me;
‘Oh, God, Craig, I wish I knew what to say to you. It was going to happen some time though, wasn’t it? I mean, you knew that, didn’t you? We both did, didn’t we? I mean, not Richard necessarily, but you know, just you and me. You’re going off to the states soon, and you’re so much younger than me and – yes, okay, I know – but I would have been on a pension while you were still in a band, most probably – can you imagine it? – and I couldn’t have given you any babies anyway, and…’
‘Shut the fuck up, you dozy cow. I know all that. I just, you know – Christ, you’ve got me at it now – I’m finding it difficult to handle the idea of not seeing you again. You know?’
‘Of course I know. But we will still see each other, won’t we? When Jax and I catch up with you after you get back. They could hardly publish a book about Brit Pop and not put you in there, could they? Really?’
‘I suppose. But it seems a long way off. And it’s not like we’ll be…’
‘No. No, we won’t. Craig, I’m sorry.’
‘Bet I’m sorrier than you, Mrs Potter.’
Monday
Me;
‘What’s with this ‘cow’ business, anyway, Rani? That’s twice now, in two days I’ve been called a cow. Richard called me a mad one and Craig called me a dozy one. It’s not really on, is it? I was kind of hoping I’d be able to exert a new authority on my relations with men now. You know, do away with all the passive/aggressive female thing and you know, just command respect. You know?’
‘They’d never get away with it in Delhi. You could most probably be shackled up and dragged behind an ox for saying stuff like that.’
‘But I thought women were so repressed in Indian society.’
‘The cow, Jules, is sacred.’
Rani;
‘What do you think? Here, take a dekko.’
‘Bit underexposed, focus slightly off. Lighting dodgy. Who’s is it?’
‘Not who’s is it. Who is it. His name is Raul, he’s studying accountancy in Bombay and I’m going out to meet him at Christmas.’
‘Oh.’
‘You said it.’
Tuesday
Lily;
‘Alors! It is good to be back home at last! You must tell me every tiny detail of your love life. I am so fed up of hearing – on and on and on – about how my mother is going to knit me designer booties and stay for a month and cook endless quiches and pottage. And Malcolm loves every minute! Can you imagine! He and my mother are going to drive me to a mother and baby home in despair. They are so in love with each other! You will have to rescue me at every opportunity – if, that is, you have time between dashing here and everywhere with your photographic jobs and so on. And please tell me if you would like to see the translations of Jerome’s letters before I give them to Emma, which I think you should because they are more than a little rude. You know what French men are like! Bye!’
Wednesday
Howard;
‘How’s it going?’
‘Okay.’
‘Richard moved back now?’
‘Yesterday. I have accepted the trouser press back into my life. How is Nick?’
‘Oh, he’s fine. Busy.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘You don’t like Nick, do you?’
‘Er…’
‘Jules, I know what you saw.’
‘Er…’
‘Look. I know about Nick, and it’s all right. Honest.’
‘Don’t tell me. Just sex?’
‘It’s not like what we have.’
‘But couldn’t he….’
‘He tries…’
‘Hard enough?’
‘His best. life’s too short, Jules. So I don’t want to know. I’m happy, he’s happy. You happy?’
‘I think so. Yes. Happy. I am.’
Thursday
Max;
‘Mum, it says nothing in the prospectus about logos, honest. I’ve read it six times. There is nothing.’
‘It says “outer coat to be black and without motifs”, which means no Nike logos the size of a tea tray. Now, this one would do fine. It’s black, and it’s waterproof, and it’s got lots of useful pockets…’
‘Mum, it’s total pants! I would look a complete derr-brain! Do you want the whole school to laugh at me?’
‘Total what?’
‘Total pants, Mum. Total.’
‘Pants?’
‘Mum, don’t be such a saddo. I thought you were cool. Look, K-Swiss then. That one. The K’s very small…’
Emma;
‘I can’t believe you are even thinking about it! Everyone knows the Bahamas are old hat now. Only sad people go to the Bahamas these days…’
‘But your Dad and I thought you and Max would be thrilled! The Bahamas, Em, just think of it – white sand, palm trees, warm sea…’
‘Mosquitoes. Tropical spiders. Snakes. And some naff teen-club for derr-brains as well, I suppose. Mum, why can’t we just go somewhere cheaper and save the money? Buy a conservatory or something…’
‘But I don’t want a conservatory. I want an exotic foreign holiday. I want to drink cocktails out of pineapples and dance the night away with hibiscus blooms in my hair….’
‘Ye-uch.’
‘So where do you want to go then – the Siberian tundra?’
‘No. Just France. Please?’
Friday
Richard;
‘I don’t know if I can live with this colour.’
‘Too bad. It took me forever to do.’
‘What? Painting four walls?’
‘You just don’t get it, do you? This is a paint effect.’
‘Quite. It’s certainly affected. What was wrong with the cream?’
‘Cream is yesterday’s colour.’
‘It’s better than this. This looks like the inside of yesterday’s take-away containers.’
‘It’s called Scorched Sienna.’
‘Or a stomach upset.’
‘Well it’s staying. Since when will you get round to changing it?’
‘I won’t. Now you’re almost rich we can get a man in.’
‘What – I can?’
‘My choice. Someone bald and retired.’
Saturday
Me;
‘How many times then? Really.’
‘Okay. Three times. Ju, Do we have to do this?’
‘It says here “try to exorcise demons and unresolved resentments. It is vital that you are able to move on to a closer understanding of one another, and to achieve this you must learn to communicate more effectively” blah, blah, etc. Third time when exactly?’
‘Isn’t ‘unresolved resentments’ a bit of a tautology?’
‘Come on.’
‘Okay. Not when you thought. It was way after that. When you were away. I was really angry. And I thought, sod her then. Look, Ju, don’t you find it difficult to talk about this?’
‘Yes and no. Yes because I don’t like to think of you between that cow’s Egyptian cotton sheets, naturally, but no, because we’re quits now, so we can discuss it as equals. Without any unresolved feelings of, well, inequality, I suppose. Which is important.’
‘You make it sound very clinical.’
‘I don’t mean to. It’s just that we’ve balanced the books now, haven’t we? I honestly don’t think I could have had you back, had I not, you know….’
‘Slept with someone else as well?’
‘You see? You can do it.’
‘But unlike you I really don’t want to know
anything about it. Really, I don’t. So please don’t tell me. Except…’
‘What?’
‘Except, did you love him? When I asked you that day there was something in your eyes that…Well, something. You know, I never really did feel anything for Rhiannon. Not like that. I actually felt really guilty about sleeping with her again. But you…’
‘Of course I didn’t love him. Let’s just say I gave myself a bit of a shock. I thought I could just have no-strings sex with someone, like you did. But I found out I couldn’t. For a woman – for me, at least – there really is no such thing. But then I also found out that you can’t be happily married to the same man for fifteen years without a damn good reason. Extra-marital shagging notwithstanding, eh?’
‘Ha, ha.’
‘Ha, ha.’
‘End of therapy session.’
So. We’ve drawn a line under the past and are moving forwards and upwards. Like Howard said, life’s too short, isn’t it? If you love someone – and have a stake in their lives and their happiness, then it would be sad to abandon all that because of one indiscretion. He knows what Nick’s done, just like I know about Richard. And Richard – well, Richard’s just glad to be home. And all those books I’ve read didn’t turn out to be pointless, because we’ve reached a new level of understanding now. The deal is that if Richard succumbs to his loins again (which I hope won’t happen, and, frankly, I doubt) then it’s his problem. His to deal with and his to cope with. The thing about marriage, the thing about life, is that guilt should be a strictly one-person affair. Richard knows that the night when he confessed about Rhiannon was simply a way of diluting his guilt.
We’re more clued up now. Our marriage is important to both of us. If it happens again, he must keep it to himself.
Because what we don’t know can’t hurt us, can it?
Here’s hoping. Wish us luck…xxx
*
[JAH1]
[JAH2]
Julia Gets a Life Page 27