by Isabel Wolff
‘Is it because of Ed?’ she asked gently. I fiddled with my stapler. I couldn’t tell her about my mother.
‘Well, yes, it is. In part. I’d decided that I was over him, and I was almost looking forward to moving on. But now he’s come back into my life and I’m not sure about anything any more. My whole perspective has somehow changed.’
‘Do you really think you could give things another go then?’
I shrugged. ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. I was a hopeless partner, Bev. I know that now, and, for the first time, I think I also know why. And Ed really wants us to try again.’
‘But do you?’ I began to doodle on my pad. ‘Do you want to try again?’ she reiterated gently.
‘Bev, a recent survey revealed that seventy-five per cent of married couples who’d experienced infidelity stayed together afterwards. Apparently the success of the marriage after the affair depends on the acceptance of both sides that they were mutually responsible for the situation, and on a sincere commitment to change.’
‘How interesting,’ said Beverley giving me one of her funny, slightly piercing looks. ‘But, Rose, do you want to give things another go with Ed?’ she persisted. I looked out of the window.
‘Yes, I think I do, but…’
‘…but what?’
‘Oh, I…don’t know.’
‘Don’t you?’ she said. I fiddled with my earring. ‘What’s holding you back?’
‘I’m…not sure.’
‘Really?’ she said. And now I doodled two stars on my pad, and then Saturn with its hula-hoop rings. ‘Well you’ve just got to do what you feel is right,’ she said quietly.
‘Hmm. That’s true. By the way,’ I went on, ‘have you heard from your friend yet, the one who knows Mary-Claire Grey? I want to know why she left Ed. He says that he dropped her because she complained all the time, but I’d be interested in knowing what she had to say.’
‘I don’t think Gill’s spoken to her yet, but when she does I’ll let you know.’
‘And how’s your romantic life?’ I asked her as we began leaflet-stuffing the envelopes. ‘Since you’ve been asking about mine. Fair’s fair.’
‘True. Well, it’s…hhm, I’m not quite sure. It’s quite hard for the two of us to get together at the moment.’
‘Well it’s a bummer that Hamish lives in Scotland,’ I said as I fished out my Blushing leaflet. ‘And he travels quite a lot too doesn’t he?’ She nodded, then sighed. ‘Long distance relationships are never easy,’ I concluded wearily.
‘Yes,’ she said feelingly. ‘I know.’
On Saturday I met Ed in Whiteleys and we saw the new Nicole Kidman film then we went for a Chinese in Poons.
‘You look happy, Rose,’ he said as we nibbled on some crispy seaweed.
‘I am happy.’ I thought of the advert again. There’d been no reply so far, but I still felt upbeat—at last, at last, I had hope. I wanted to stand up right there in the restaurant and shout, ‘I’m looking for my mother everyone, and maybe I’m going to find her!’ But I didn’t. I bit my tongue.
‘There’s a real twinkle in your eye,’ Ed remarked.
‘That’s because…it’s so nice to see you.’
He smiled. ‘You seem…different,’ he said wonderingly. ‘Like you were when we first met. Just happy and vivacious and bright. When you became an agony aunt that all changed and you became…’
‘Agonised?’
‘Well, obsessed. As though nothing else in your life existed but the problems of strangers.’
‘I know,’ I said, as I sipped my green tea. ‘But I’m not like that now.’
‘Why do you think that is?’
‘Oh, all sorts of reasons,’ I replied vaguely. ‘Ed, did you know that our nearest star, Alpha Centauri, is so far away—twentyfive million million miles—that it would take a space rocket, travelling at thirty thousand miles an hour, a hundred thousand years to reach it?’
‘Er, no, I can’t say I did.’
‘And did you know that there are small neutron stars—the collapsed cores of exploded supernovae—which are so dense that a piece the size of a paperclip would outweigh Mount Everest?’
‘Oh.’
‘And that there are more sun-like stars just in the visible universe than there are blades of grass on the earth?’
‘Mmm. How do you know all this?’
‘From Theo’s book. He let me read the proofs. Astronomy’s a fascinating subject you know; I mean, here we are having dinner, but all the atoms and particles of which we’re made came into being in the Big Bang fifteen billion years ago. Don’t you find that thought amazing, Ed?’
‘Well,’ he shrugged. ‘I suppose I do.’
‘And did you know that on Jupiter there’s a storm raging which is the size of the earth? And bolts of lightning a thousand miles long?’
‘Oh really?’ The waiter brought our king prawns.
‘Don’t you find it incredible, Ed. Just the thought of all those billions upon billions of stars?’
He shrugged again. ‘I don’t give it much thought. To me they’re a bit like the wallpaper really—they’re just there. Or rather they’re not usually there as the weather’s so bad. Young Theo’s obviously made quite an impression on you,’ he added tetchily as he lifted a skein of noodles.
‘He’s a very interesting chap.’
‘And I suppose he’s got an enormous telescope has he?’
‘Yes he has actually, although it’s a refractor, not one of the more modern reflectors and I—oh really, Ed.’ I lowered my chopsticks. ‘Don’t be childish. We’re not involved.’
‘You talk about him as though you were.’
‘No, I don’t. I keep telling you. He’s just my flatmate.’
‘He’s more than that.’ I felt my heart race. ‘Isn’t he?’ I looked at him. ‘Isn’t he?’ he insisted.
‘All right,’ I conceded. ‘He is. Yes, Theo is more than just my flatmate—he’s my friend. He cares about me—I know that now—but that’s as far as it goes. Please don’t spoil the evening, Ed,’ I added softly, ‘we’ve had such a lovely time.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed quietly. ‘We have. I’m sorry, Rose,’ he said rubbing his temple. ‘I know I had no right to ask, but I can’t help feeling possessive about you. I mean, you are still my wife.’
‘It’s okay,’ I sighed. ‘I’m not cross. Theo’s like a…younger brother,’ I explained. This seemed to satisfy Ed and he managed to smile. ‘He’s like a younger brother,’ I repeated. But for some strange reason I suddenly pictured him on the morning after the burglary, naked but for a towel. Ed called for the bill. He peered at it, then frowned.
‘That old trick,’ he said with a slightly forced smile.
‘What?’
‘“An optional twelve and a half per cent service charge has been added to your bill.”’ If it’s already been added it’s hardly optional is it?’
‘Oh, honestly, Ed. Never mind.’ I smiled inwardly at his indignation, because I know where he’s coming from. I know where Ed’s coming from, and I know where I’m coming from. We’re all carrying our childhoods around.
‘And would it be very forward of me to invite you back to my place for a coffee?’ he asked as we ambled out arm in arm. ‘Given that we’re married and everything.’
‘Oh, thanks, Ed, but no.’
‘Is that “no way”?’ he asked quietly.
‘No. It’s no, as in,“not now”.’
‘Playing hard to get are you?’
‘Not really. I just want to take things nice and slow.’
‘You’re right,’ he said as we stepped onto the down escalator. ‘After all we rushed things before. But can I see you again in a few days?’
‘Yes,’ I said happily. ‘You can.’
Ed offered to drive me home, but I hailed a passing cab, hugged him goodbye and jumped in. And as I sat in the back, I felt a deep happiness creep over me, and a kind of gratitude. For I knew I was being given a rar
e chance to put right things that had gone badly wrong. I was being given the opportunity to find my mother—my mother!—and to try and redeem my failed marriage to Ed. How many of us get second shots at one ruined thing in our lives, let alone two?
When I got back Theo was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Guardian. He glanced up as I came in, and, despite our recent closeness, gave me a slightly chilly, disinterested smile.
‘Nice evening?’ he asked with studied politeness.
‘Yes, I…went to the pictures.’
‘With Ed?’
‘Yes, that’s right. With Ed.’
‘Your husband.’
‘My husband,’ I echoed. It felt odd saying it.
‘Are you going back to him then?’ I was used by now to Theo’s frankness but his question took me aback. Was I going back to him?
‘I don’t know. All I know is I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night, about how perhaps, subconsciously, I’d wrecked my marriage. And I decided that you might well be right and so I…’
‘Want to give it another go?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe. I don’t really know.’
‘I guess I’d better start flat-hunting then,’ he said matter-offactly. He picked up the property section and began flicking through it with exaggerated interest. ‘The spring’s a good time to buy.’ So that’s what this was about. Knowing that I was seeing Ed again was making him insecure because he was worried he’d have to leave.
‘Honestly, Theo, there’s no rush. My situation isn’t about to change and I, well, I like having you here.’
‘Do you?’ he said quietly. He looked up from the paper.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I do. You’re just so… Oh, Theo, you’re so nice. And I must have seemed such a nightmare when you first came here.’
‘Yes, you were.’ I winced. But then, as I say, Theo can be a bit lacking on the diplomacy front sometimes.
‘I was only a “nightmare” because I was terrified at the thought of living with a total stranger. And I was very unhappy.’
He closed the paper. ‘I know.’
‘But I feel different now, and I know that it’s largely thanks to you. And honestly, I’m not about to move back in with Ed, really I’m not, I’m—’ Suddenly my mobile rang. It was Ed, checking that I’d got home safely. ‘Yes, I’ve just walked in the door. Hm, it was a lovely evening,’ I murmured. ‘Me too. See you soon. Good night. I’m sorry, Theo, where were we? Oh yes, Ed. I’m just taking things day by day.’
‘Well, it’s just that I’ll be getting the cheque from my wife’s solicitors soon so I was thinking that maybe I should start to look for my own place.’ My happy mood suddenly evaporated like the rush of steam on a pan of seared scallops. I felt a deep, deep pang.
Maybe I could get back with Ed, but we could keep our own houses, so that I could carry on living with Theo. Yes, that was the answer, I told myself happily, then I’d have the best of both worlds. Ed and I could be like Mia Farrow and Woody Allen before things got nasty—living on opposite sides of Central Park. Or Peter Cook and his wife who had adjacent houses, or Margaret Drabble and Michael Holroyd. And I was just trying to figure out how this might work in reality when the phone rang. It was twenty to twelve. I picked up the handset expecting heavy breathing, but instead it was Bella, on her mobile, in tears.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s Bea,’ she hissed. ‘Andrew and I went to Aubergine for dinner tête-à-tête and she came along. I tried to conceal where I was going, but she followed me.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘He was really annoyed. So the evening ended very badly and he’s just stomped off. She’s being so difficult,’ she groaned. ‘She’s coming to everything and it’s driving him mad. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Do you want me to talk to her?’
‘No. Because then she’ll know that I’ve been discussing her with you. But she just won’t take the hint. I wouldn’t mind so much if she actually liked Andrew, but she doesn’t; she’s just doing it to spoil my fun.’
‘I don’t think that’s true. She’s basically competing with Andrew for you. She doesn’t want him to take you away. She doesn’t realise how selfish it is, but it can’t go on. You’ll just have to get better at outwitting her.’
‘Mmm,’ she sighed, ‘you’re right. Anyway, how was your evening with Ed?’
‘Do you know, it was rather nice.’
‘Well you certainly sound happier than I’ve heard you for ages.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I am.’ I was happier than I’d been for a long, long time, and I knew I had Theo to thank for that. For the past three years—since my parents died—I’d tormented myself with the thought that I might look for my mother. But I’d been in this awful dilemma about it, because although, deep down, I did want to, I resented her too much to try. But now that Theo had pushed me into it I felt liberated. I felt free. What would I say if I actually met her I wondered as I put the phone down. ‘Hi, Mum! Long time no see.’ Or would I call her ‘Mummy’? Or ‘Mother’? Or would I call her by her Christian name? And what would I do after such a hiatus? Show her my school reports? Give her forty birthday and Christmas presents all in one go? And how long would it take us to tell each other about our lives? Days. No, weeks. No—months.
‘You are the weakest link!’ I heard Rudy shout. Yes, I thought ruefully. She was the weakest link when she should have been the strongest, but now we had the chance to put things right.
‘Theo, thank you so much for all your support about my mother,’ I said as I went back into the kitchen. ‘I’m very grateful because there’s no way I would have started this search if it weren’t for you.’
His stiffness suddenly evaporated, and he smiled one of his lopsided little smiles. ‘That’s okay, Rose. I’m sorry I badgered you, but I felt that you did really want to find her, reading between the lines.’ I smiled. Theo had read between my lines, with a hundred per cent accuracy, where I hadn’t read between them myself. ‘But you might be disappointed,’ he added, ‘so you’ll have to prepare yourself for that.’
‘I know. But even if I never find her, just wanting to makes me feel so much better. The fact that I don’t hate her any more.’
‘I don’t think you ever really did hate her,’ he suggested quietly. ‘You were just angry with her, that’s all.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘I was. I was just so angry,’ I added. ‘I think that’s why I was so uptight. But now it’s as though a wall in my mind has come down. Now there’s the possibility that we might actually meet: or maybe just speak to each other over the phone. Hearing her voice would be like a resurrection, as though she’d died but come back to life.’
‘But it could take months until you hear anything—if you ever do—so you can’t afford to get your hopes up too much. And you need to have things to look forward to, Rose, to distract you while you’re waiting.’
‘You’re absolutely right. I do.’ I glanced at the noticeboard where there was an invitation from Beverley to the Dogs of Distinction prize-giving ceremony, marked Theo & Rose. Theo & Rose, she’d written. Theo & Rose. I liked seeing our names linked like that.
‘Well I’d certainly like to go to this,’ I said as I took it down. ‘Are you going?’
Theo looked affronted at the question. ‘Of course! It’s Trevor’s big night.’
The ceremony was the following Thursday evening at the Kensington Roof Gardens. Theo and I went in the taxi with Beverley and Trevor who were both a bundle of nerves.
‘It’s not the winning, Trev,’ she said to him again as we bounced along, ‘it’s the taking part.’ He raised one sceptical eyebrow then she got his brush out of his coat pocket and tidied his fur.
‘He looks gorgeous,’ I said as she groomed him. ‘If there was an award for most handsome hound he’d get it. Who’s dishing out the prizes?’
‘Trevor McDonald?’
‘What, the real one?’
‘You me
an the other one,’ she corrected me.
‘Right,’ said Theo, as we turned off High Street Kensington into Derry Street, ‘we’re here.’
As we got out of the taxi in the deepening twilight, we saw the other competitors going in. There were setters and spaniels and collies and retrievers, pugs and King Charles cavaliers. We got the lift up to the top floor, where the champagne reception was in full swing. As we went in we spotted a gigantic box of Dogochox, the competition’s sponsors, and there were photographers everywhere.
‘The puparazzi are out in force,’ I remarked as Theo pushed Bev through the throng. ‘And there’s a film crew. Ooh, isn’t that the actress, Emily Woof?’
‘Yes it is. And Sue Barker’s over there.’
‘How many finalists are there?’ I asked Bev.
‘Twelve. Here,’ she handed me a press release. ‘This is what we’re up against.’ I glanced through a few of the other nominations. There was George, a bull mastiff, who had alerted passersby to a fire in his house and who had saved the lives of his two companions—a cat and a hamster. Firemen broke into the house and rescued George, who kept barking at them until they went back in to save the cat and the hamster, who had to be revived with oxygen. Then there was Whiskey, a blind Labrador, whose favourite pastime is climbing mountains and who had scaled Ben Nevis, Scafell and Snowdon. He guides himself with his well-adapted nose, and is hoping to conquer Mont Blanc next.
‘Wow!’ I breathed as I read on. Rupert, a Pets As Therapy dog visits hospitals and children’s homes and even encouraged one little boy, who was thought to be dumb, to speak. A retriever called Popeye, a Hearing Dog, had saved his owner from a heart attack by dialling 999. And Storm, a Customs and Excise Dog, had sniffed out four million pounds worth of hard drugs, and Misty had raised a million pounds for charity by walking from Land’s End to John o’Groats. There were guide dogs, and dogs who’d saved people from raging rivers, and who’d rescued children lost on Welsh hills. No wonder the anagram of ‘dog’ is ‘God’ I thought as I read the last citation. Trevor, a golden Labrador from Helping Paw has become indispensable to his owner, Beverley, after she had a devastating accident three years ago. ‘Life without Trevor is simply not worth living,’ Beverley says. ‘When I got him I felt that all my birthdays and Christmases had come at once.’ In addition to helping her with all her household chores, gardening and shopping, Trevor writes a weekly column for the Daily Post, whose circulation, according to official ABC figures, he has raised by a staggering 10 per cent. He has also been an energetic and successful fund-raiser for Helping Paw—a truly talented dog!