‘Here … I found something on the internet I think may help you. His name is Mort Fertel and he helps people create extraordinary loving relationships. There are seven relationship skills you need to know by all means.’
I clear my throat in a way that says I’m not exactly convinced.
She flops back down onto her chair and says, ‘Two minutes … listen, don’t mock the power of the internet, Mr Mort has the answers to all your problems. He even covers the “What to do if you find yourself attracted to another man or woman” and “Two monthly acts that will restore the passion between you”.’
‘Spare me the American fix-it Mort man, please,’ I sigh.
‘OK, this won’t take long, I promise, I’m going to give you a quick quiz. These are the main warning signs that your marriage will end in divorce, humour me if you will?’ She winks at me and raises her HDs.
‘Whatever,’ I sigh harder.
She sits up straighter.
‘Number one, do you and your partner spend hours together under the same roof, at social engagements or performing routine errands yet rarely engage in meaningful conversations?’
Has the Mort man been spying on No. 13?
‘Yes. All the time. Next?’ I sing the last word.
‘Number two, do you feel your every action is being watched and criticised by your partner? Can you do no right in their eyes?
‘Tick. Next!’
‘Number three, are your arguments becoming routine with all the same issues and no resolutions?’
‘If I had a buzzer, I’d keep my hand on it. Next!’
‘Number four, is there a considerable decline in physical affection—’
‘I’m interested in this one,’ I interrupt her. ‘Is there a solution to any of these, by the way, from Mr Magic Mort?’ I laugh sarcastically.
‘Indeed, he has answers for them all, Ali, that’s what I’m telling you, but, eh, you have to buy the audio book, I’m afraid … hold on …’
Her eyes scroll down. ‘Here, he goes on a bit about this particular one, yeah: “Intimacy is the act that allows us to bond as husband and wife, if your partner is showing no or very little interest in intimacy with you then they are showing little concern for their emotional bond with you as husband or wife.”’
He’s saying I am the one to blame here, I am the one who has lost interest in sex, therefore I am the one showing no concern to Colin’s emotional state as my husband.
‘So if I buy his audio book, he will fix me and Colin. I’ll suddenly be Samantha from Sex and the City every night, will I?’
‘Meh.’ She drops the phone onto the desk. ‘All I’m saying is there is help if you want it. OK, maybe not Mort, but it’s out there.’
‘I’ve done some research of my own on married people, Corina, I’ve googled … Sure, lots of couples go through these phases all the time and come out the other side …’ I pull my chair in and linger my finger over the keys on my laptop, I really do need to get back to Colette soon.
She stands and gathers up the empty latté cups.
‘Just promise me you won’t do anything silly with Owen this weekend. He isn’t the answer. We’ll figure it out when you get back, yeah?’
‘I promise,’ I say, but I’m crossing both my big toes over the next ones and I don’t know why.
8
Just a normal Thursday. Or so I thought.
Worked hard all day and got loads done. On the walk back from Merrion Square, I feel contented with the applications I have put in. I always send an email attachment application and have a bound hard copy hand delivered. I like to work like that. No confusion. No electronic mix-ups. No: ‘This didn’t attach or that didn’t attach.’ No: ‘I didn’t get that.’ Because it’s all backed up by a silver paperclip in black-and-white in a brown padded envelope. I have no idea if Colin will be home.
I pop into Centra to grab a small bag of microwavable new baby potatoes; there are some chicken breasts and carrots in the fridge – I will do a little mini casserole for us this evening. As I come out of Centra I spot the bridal lingerie shop, Ideals, on the corner. I check out the window display for a split second before I dash through the traffic, push the door open and go in.
* * *
Colin’s car is in the driveway as I open the front door. I haven’t got the kids from Laura’s yet, I still have half and hour. I usually make a quick coffee, get the dinner on and then run down the road. As soon as I open the door I hear my family.
‘Muuummmyyyyyy!’ Mark speeds down the hall and attaches himself to my legs.
‘Hello, baby! Did Daddy collect you from Laura’s, pet?’ I bend down and hug him tightly.
‘Hey there, Mom.’ Jade swings her slim body on the doorframe of the front room. She’s wearing a tweed cap on her head, with thick blonde locks tumbling out of it around her face, with her school uniform. On her feet, they may need to be surgically removed, her trusty Uggs. I take them over the high heel any day, but still. The main thing I can say about the Uggs is they aren’t sexy, and I’m all for any clothes that are in fashion for eleven-year-old girls not being sexy.
During the summer Jade had begged and pleaded with me to buy her one of those revolting children’s bra and knickers set from Penney’s. ‘Absolutely, categorically no way!’ I had told her. There was no debate but we clashed for a long time over it. Karen had three sets in all different colours, she’d shouted at me as we drove away from the shop brown-paper-bagless. She never really forgave me, I guess.
‘Come in here!’ She drags me back to the here and now and believe it or not she is smiling brightly. Her words leave her mouth fast and I can’t hear her American drawl either. Praise the Lord!
I take off my coat and carry my laptop bag and the small bag of microwavable potatoes into the kitchen. The table is laid with cutlery, condiments and plates with a massive cardboard pizza box in the middle. A bottle of wine is open and two wine glasses sit beside it. On the CD player Billy Joel sings about his Piano Man. The heating is on and my home is warm.
‘What the …’ I drop my bags onto the floor, completely blown away.
‘Hiya, love!’ Colin, in his black Adidas tracksuit, chequered tea towel slung over his shoulder, is at the oven.
‘Hi.’ I look at him quizzically.
‘Garlic bread is just ready.’ He bends and opens the oven and the smell is mouth-watering. He flaps the tea towel at the emerging heat. Then he comes over and takes my bags up and puts them on the counter.
‘Well … this is a pleasant surpr—’ I stop myself. I don’t want anything that can be misconstrued coming out of my mouth.
‘Thank you, Colin,’ I say.
‘Mummy, I don’t like garlic bread, can I just have pizza, can I, can I?’ Mark asks tugging at my shirt.
‘Oscar got like another black mark on his card today, you know what he did, Mom? He like totalllllllllllly messed up …’ Jade is talking so fast I can hardly catch any words. The young American has returned.
‘Mummmyyyy, can I? Daddy says I have to try the garlic bread.’ Mark pulls at my arms now.
‘He was like giving crap back to teacher and teacher was, like …’ Jade speeds up.
‘Mummmmyyyyyyy, can I? Can I?’ Mark pulls and pulls.
‘Kids! Stop! Let your mother get in the door, now go and wash your hands. Mark, you don’t have to try the garlic bread; Jade, save your story about Oscar to tell us all over dinner.’ Colin moves to the table and pulls out a chair for me.
‘My lady.’ He bows.
I smile at him and sit as he pushes my chair in. His hair is freshly washed and still damp. He is freshly shaved and smells of shower gel and Hugo Boss aftershave. He takes a piece of my new Winnie the Pooh kitchen roll and places it softly across my lap. Then he pours me a large glass of red.
‘Wow, are they like that every evening? Now relax, Mrs Devlin.’
He is gorgeous, of course he is, I can see that. I think of the new expensive sexy underwear in my bag as I l
ift my glass. My nose automatically dives in and I inhale cherries and a bitter sweet euphoria. I take a long gulp. The kids come back and Colin serves the garlic bread and pizza at the same time. It’s a Hawaiian pizza, my favourite but not Colin’s – he doesn’t even like pineapple yet he got this for me. Colin rolls his yellow-handled pizza cutter through the dough and he puts generous slices on all our plates.
‘Whoever wants the garlic bread just tuck in.’ Colin sits at the head of the table.
Jade recounts her story of naughty Oscar in her American accent as I plop a huge portion of mayonnaise on the side of my plate. By all accounts Oscar told teacher that he has no right to put his hand on his shoulder. Jade’s hair is now piled up in a messy bun, she’s still wearing her grey school uniform but she’s one of those girls that can wear anything. Her white shirt collar is turned up on one side, deliberately yet casually wrong, the tie perfected ever so slightly loose. A uniform suits her because she somehow makes it her own. I’m suddenly reminded of Colin in his school uniform, they are so alike. I love her so much. I want us to be closer. I want us to be best friends and I don’t care if that’s all sorts of wrong. I want all of her. Maybe I should have got the vile bra and knickers set, she’d love me so much more.
‘Mummy, can I get Dark World Lego for my birthday?’ Mark asks with the longest string of cheese pulling away from his mouth still attached to his slice. I want to say mind the uniform but I don’t. I never ever allow them to eat dinner in the uniforms because I’m the one who has to wash them. I choose to say nothing.
‘Isn’t Dark World for over-eights?’ The mayonnaise covers the base of my slice as I dip more and I bring it to my mouth. Hunger suddenly hits me and this is to die for. Is it possible that I am relaxed?
‘Well, yeah, but, no … but, like, it’s so deadly!’ Mark’s tomato-covered face is pleased with me. ‘And Daniel has it and he’s not even five till after Santie comes!’
‘Daniel has older brothers though, that’s probably why.’ I lift my glass and warm it between my palms before I release the magical end of argument, the two words between mummy and son: ‘We’ll see.’
That’s pleased him no end. He nods and smiles and tucks into another delectable triangle.
‘Karen’s family sit down like this like every night … like, her mom is, like, everyone has to eat together at five thirty. I used to be, like, “Urgh, you mean you all have to sit together while you eat dinner?” But, y’know, this is kinda nice, right?’
‘It really is, love,’ Colin says and it’s not a dig. It’s a fact. I get it.
* * *
We have a lovely family meal with so many laughs and we all get on famously. Colin has made a huge effort, I know that. It isn’t going unappreciated. The kids are still eating but I’m carbed out now so I turn to him.
‘Thanks for this,’ I say softly.
‘No bother at all.’ He smiles.
‘Did you finish early?’ I keep my voice jolly.
‘Well, sort of … not really … Maia took my last appointment.’ He runs his index finger around the edge of the pizza box gathering the leftover cheese.
‘That was nice of her,’ I say.
Colin licks his finger and takes the slice I have left on my plate and I watch him peel the pineapple off.
‘To be honest I think she’s happy of the extra work now that she and Donal have split, she’s a bit lonely I think.’ He raises the slice to his mouth. I sip my wine. He chews, swallows, dabs his mouth with Winnie the Pooh and then says, ‘I’ve put the emersion buttons down for you, so a bath should be ready to run after you have that glass. I’ve emptied the school bags, washed the lunch boxes and I will start with them on their homework.’ Colin wipes his mouth now, and I catch him looking closely at the Winnie the Pooh print on the more expensive, less eco-friendly kitchen roll, but he is saying nothing. I could say it’s Thursday and Jade needs extra help with her after-school Christmas art project on a Thursday, but I don’t. I could say he needs to go through Mark’s hair with the fine-tooth comb after another letter home about nits in the classroom, but I don’t.
I say nothing except, ‘Thanks, Colin.’
* * *
When I emerge from my glorious soak, all coconut smelling, I go into my room to dry my hair. I stand again in front of my slightly opened wardrobe mirrored doors, both reflections stare back at me.
‘It’s going to be OK,’ I whisper to both of me. ‘Tonight you are going to put on some sexy underwear and make passionate love to your husband,’ I mouth to the shocked reflections. Opening the bedroom door I pad quietly downstairs to grab my bag. They are watching Tangled and I can hear Flynn Ryder enquiring about Rapunzel’s day. I sneak back up. If Mark hears me, he will run out. I close the bedroom door and drop my polka-dot robe. I study my body. It’s in good nick – tummy a bit flabby but as I said I’m OK with that. I haven’t been eating much at all lately either so I have lost a few pounds. My breasts are becoming slightly saggy, no longer the pert pair I once had. I am unshaven and wonder should I have shaved. It’s tidy enough but a spot of landscaping wouldn’t have gone amiss. I look at my face. I smile widely. Lines. A lot of small creeping lines. Laughter lines I suppose. Lived-in lines. I take my right hand and slowly pat the skin underneath my chin. I don’t like the look of this. Sagging. Growing an additional chin, it would seem. Like Mother Nature has now decided one isn’t enough. I stretch my neck up and out as I open my mouth and examine my teeth. Just like Owen I am the proud owner of characterful teeth, I suppose. Front two perfectly straight (just as well, as my mother never had the money to send me to a dentist), others slightly overlapping. I step back and look at my feet, Cherry Bomb has now gone from numerous toes. I need a repaint. Turning, I open the Ideals bag that’s laid out on my bed. I remove my purchases; they are wrapped up lovingly in soft gold paper sealed together with a discrete gold sticker that bears the name of the shop. I unwrap the black lace quarter-length bra top and then the lace high-rise boy shorts; I remove the suspender belt and the barely black stockings. I stare at them. It has to be done. I dress in the garments quickly and slide my feet into my black patent Red or Dead high heels before I turn to look in the mirror. I wonder how I will look? I turn slowly and open my eyes.
‘Oh, whoa! Not too bad,’ I whisper to myself. I look damn sexy, if I say so myself. The underwear sucks me in in all the right places and I’ve blow dried my hair into a short but sleek ponytail because it is getting longer and I know Colin likes it back off my face. I’m kind of uncomfortable and on edge but I’m making the effort and that in itself feels strangely right. I’m doing the right thing. I want him to desire me, of course I do, but I wish I could desire him back. I think of Corina’s call after she’d left my office.
‘Hey, it’s me again. I was thinking: OK, sex is a funny one … sometimes we need a little … well, assistance with it. Would you not think of watching a sexy video with Colin? Do what I said, buy the underwear: it will make you feel sexy and then suggest a little blue movie. He’s a man, he will love the idea and it might just turn you on a bit more so that sex with Colin is good.’
I was blushing from head to toe on the other end of the phone. I’m not one to discuss my sex life, never have been, even with Corina who on the other hand is more open than that Dr Ruth.
‘Will you try that for me?’ she panted as she walked to her next appointment.
‘He tried that the other night, showed me some horrible porno, a really young-looking girl; I couldn’t stop thinking of Jade. I was really uncomfortable with it …’ I shook my head to remove the image.
‘So you choose something, something that you like.’
‘I will try, OK … and I do appreciate your friendship, I know I must be a pain in the hole right now.’
‘Ah, stop, it’s life, Ali, it throws curveballs. But you need to be sure you can catch it or else duck, ya know? I might not have the greatest body in the world, or have the face of Cara Delevingne, but I make the best of what I�
�ve got. Man, the gear I got online to wear the first night with Trevor, it was top-notch sexy! I felt top-notch sexy in it! That’s my point, I think.’
‘I’m walking too, off to the Arts Council offices on Merrion Square, let’s walk and talk?’ I had said and we’d had a great chat on the phone and arranged to meet up next week for coffee and lemon cheesecake at the Pepper Palace when I was back from Amsterdam.
Kicking off the already uncomfortable heels, I leave them by my side of the bed. I grab my polka-dot robe and pull it around me. Tying the belt tight, I flick off all the lights upstairs, saving energy, and head down.
Mother is singing about how she knows best as I slide onto the sofa beside Colin. He isn’t watching with them, he’s on his iPad. I see the red, white and black colours of Manchester United’s website. I wish he could watch the film with the kids and be in the moment. Jade doesn’t like it any more, but it’s the only compromise that she and Mark can come to. Colin refuses to get a second TV so I’m faced with their ‘she wants, he wants’ TV arguments day in and day out.
‘Mmmmmm, you smell great.’ He leans in.
‘Shush, Daddy, this is the ’cary bit!’ Mark shuffles back and settles himself between my legs.
‘He’d climb back inside you if he could,’ Colin whispers in my ear.
The knickers are riding up my bottom and I shift on the couch. I could do with another glass of wine I decide, and I push Mark gently up the rug and I excuse myself to get a ‘drink’.
‘Almost bedtime, lads,’ Colin tells them.
I open the kitchen door and I audibly sigh. It’s in bits. The leftover pizza box and dinner dishes are still uncleared from the table. Dirty plates and glasses piled in the sink. Homework copies and pencil cases scattered all over the place. Sexy momma gotta get her cleaning on. I don’t moan, I just get on with it.
As I hand-wash the last glass and leave it to drip dry, Colin has taken the kids upstairs. It’s late for them on a school night, it’s after nine and they are still hyper. I remove the knickers from my bum with my middle finger, I now feel all sweaty in them and stiff. Colin comes back down.
The Week I Ruined My Life Page 13