Any chance that you can come round
and help prepare Geoff for an
interview?
We need to whip him into shape.
My pleasure. 8pm?
Make sure he has the Job Description
and Person Spec. to hand.
Thursday.
“I’m not going to wish you luck today, as you don’t need it,” I smile to Geoff as I leave for work. “Just be yourself and remember the super-sexy answers to the questions Cate practised with you last night. Don’t forget to ring me as soon as you know the outcome.” I make to leave. “Oh, and go easy on the aftershave. Feedback saying that you were rejected because you suffocated the interviewers simply will not do.” I laugh, and go before he has time to reply.
Once in the safety of my car, I allow waves of uncertainty to wash over me – but only for a moment. Music therapy will save me from myself once again. “This morning, I shall mostly be singing to the awesome No Worries,” I say aloud. “You are my affirmation of the day.”
As Simon Webbe’s soothing voice fills the air, the feelings of helplessness and pain lift from my shoulders and my positivity returns. This redundancy might signal the start of something better for us all. Even if Geoff doesn’t get this one, doors might open for him. I feel we’ve really connected this week. He’s been so much nicer. I turn up the volume on my stereo, wind down my car window and sing with Simon about not having worries.
5.00 p.m.
Has he got the job? The continued silence from Geoff is agonising. We agreed that he would ring me when he had any news, and I am determined to wait for him to do so. I delay going home, opting for a glass of wine in a local pub to quash the inevitable catastrophising. Every day is different, I reason with myself. Nothing lasts forever. Things happen for a reason, and I know I’ll be alright. I reach in my bag for my purse, and my latest challenge slip catches my eye.
SPLASH THE CASH! BUY SOMETHING REALLY EXTRAVAGANT.
I simply daren’t go out and blow a significant amount of cash right now. It wouldn’t feel right. For the first time since my year of self-discovery and adventure began, a challenge feels like a burden. It saddens me. I play with my phone, willing Geoff to call or text. I down a second glass of wine… and then a third.
A warm fuzziness envelops me. I fancy a light-hearted chat with somebody and scroll down my list of contacts. My finger stops on Him. How are you? Have I been in your thoughts at all since I drunk-texted you after the blueberry challenge. I loved your witty reply. It made me laugh out loud… I miss your texts. I want you to call me awesome and gorgeous again… I know I’ve totally failed to stick to the four statements of intent I made back in July, but…
Without a second thought, I ring his number. It rings once, twice, three times before I realise what I am doing, chicken out and end the call. What the fuck was I thinking?
I sit, shaken, staring at my phone, warm fuzziness replaced by crushing chest pain. Do not ring back. Please do not ring back. I turn it onto vibrate, hail a passing taxi, and make for home.
“Hello?”
The house is in total darkness. Bad thoughts whizz through my head. What if Geoff’s committed suicide and is hanging in the hall? What if he’s taken an overdose and I find him slumped in the kitchen or he’s stabbed himself to death and is lying in a pool of blood? I take a deep breath and open the kitchen door slowly.
“Boo!”
“Aaaaagh!” Light floods the room.
“Surprise!” Evie shouts. “Look, looky look.”
The kitchen table is laid ready for a special occasion. Candles, cutlery, table confetti and napkins are in place. I notice a small, perfectly formed vase of flowers, an uncorked bottle of red wine and glasses. A large cake dominates centre stage. “Read what’s written on the cake.” Evie drags me over.
“It says: Thank You Wife and Mum,” I say, “and there are three hugs and kisses.”
“Sis and I made it,” laughs Pippa. “And we got Dad to get a takeaway too, so you wouldn’t have to cook.”
Geoff looks rather pleased with himself.
“Well, Geoff?
“I got it.”
“You got it?”
“The job, idiot. Subject to references and all that shit. The formal offer arrived late this afternoon, and I have accepted it.” He picks up Evie and swings her from side to side singing “I got the job, I passed the tests, I walked the interview. I was the dog’s bollocks.”
“You mean we did it,” I say.
Geoff puts Evie down and fishes in his back pocket. “Here.” He hands me an envelope.
I rip it open. “Why have you given me a blank cheque?”
“Why do you think, Mum?” Pippa’s laughing. “What’s your challenge?”
“To buy something extravagant,” I reply.
“Well, here’s your blank cheque,” says Geoff. “The girls didn’t want you to fail this challenge and persuaded me to let you splash some cash tomorrow.”
Pippa butts in. “No, Dad, that’s not very loving. This is a gift to say we love you, Mum. We love that you’ve done so much to help Dad to make sure that we don’t have to leave our house, our friends and our schools. She even missed her fave TV show for you, Dad, and Mum never does that,” she giggles. “We really appreciate everything you’ve done, don’t we Dad?” She gives Geoff a look. “Say it, Dad. Tell Mum how much you appreciate her,” she snarls.
“I thought that was obvious,” he replies huffily, pointing to the cheque.
Pippa stares at him in disbelief and turns to me.
“Now Dad’s got a job, you can go and spend spend spend without feeling guilty.” She sits by my chair and hugs my legs. “Wish I was you,” she chuckles. I stare at the cheque.
“Why didn’t you text or call, Geoff?”
“Eh?”
“You promised. I was going crazy worrying. After all I’ve done, you couldn’t be bothered to let me know what was going on?”
He sits tall in his chair, arms clasped across his chest. “I forgot, Amy. I’m a bit thoughtless at times, and I was busy. Here, don’t start tantrumming. I’ve given you a blank cheque, haven’t I? And the girls baked a cake and persuaded me to buy pizza against my better judgement. You know how much I loathe fast food and eating that stuff won’t help reduce your hibernation pouch. If things don’t go your way…”
“Dad!” shouts Pippa.
The atmosphere is charged. Evie starts to cry. “Dad let us have pepperoni,” she sobs. “That was a nice thing to do. We never have that.”
I catch my breath. What was he busy doing? I’m itching to delve deeper, but this is not the time to make a scene. But I want to – very, very badly. I want to rip his bloody blank cheque up and yell and scream. Does he really believe that he can buy my love and appreciation with money? And as for him allowing us to have a pizza takeaway (including a pepperoni topping) – how bloody generous. But… everything is back in place: he has a job, so I can stop worrying, and things will improve once he’s settled in. Of course they will, thank God.
“It’s fine – thank you so much, guys. It’s a wonderful surprise,” I say, picking up the cake knife. “Here, cut it with me everyone. Close your eyes tight shut and make a wish.”
The four of us take hold of the knife, our hands placed one on top of the other. We carefully cut the cake as one, and make our private wishes. Mine are brutal.
Week Two. Friday, 7.00 p.m.
With bated breath, I reveal my extravagant purchase to my family and wait for their comments. For some reason, I have an overwhelming desire to justify what I’ve bought, but I say nothing.
“Of all things, you chose a handbag?” Geoff says. Pippa throws him a look of distaste. “That’s so insensitive, Dad. You wouldn’t understand. Mum, I think it’s lovely. Can I borrow it sometimes?” she asks wistfully.
; “Well, at least I didn’t buy a car or a yacht – or a holiday for one,” I jest. “I could have, you know, and I was sorely tempted to do a Shirley Valentine and run away to the sun for seven days of rest and relaxation. Anyway, it was my choice. I wanted something that I could keep forever and pass down to you children. I’ve always had a secret lust for a designer bag, and this was my chance. So, jog on,” I reply.
Geoff gives an exaggerated yawn. “Pubbing it at nine to celebrate my fantabulous job. I’ll need a lift after tea, Amy. I’ll stay over at Bob and Claire’s.”
The mention of Claire’s name jogs my memory. “Speaking of Claire and bags, she has a red tote that looks remarkably like the one you bought for your PA when we were in Cyprus,” I say.
“Ah. I wondered when you’d spot that,” he smiles, scratching his nose. “I gave it to Bob to give to her. He’d forgotten their wedding anniversary, and so I helped him out. You won’t let on to her, will you?” He busies himself with his mobile.
“Well, that’s alright then. For a moment I did wonder.”
Geoff looks up. “Where’s tea? It’s getting late.”
9.00 p.m.
On my return from dropping Geoff down the pub, Pippa’s waiting for me, looking grave. “Mum, I need to talk to you. Don’t you think Dad’s going out a lot… every weekend… without you?”
“Perhaps it’s a bit excessive at the moment, Pippa. But remember, Dad’s been through a lot recently. He’s been working away most weeks and dealing with the stress of losing his job. It’s not been easy for him, and the weekend’s the only time he gets to see his mates.”
“Why did you marry Dad?”
Her pointed question catches me off-guard, too tired to construct a diplomatic response. “I’m trying to work that out, darling. Do you have any ideas?”
“I don’t think he treats you well. I never really thought about it until that Freaky Friday challenge, but since then I’ve noticed lots of times when he’s taken you for granted and been… well… mean. That chat we had ages ago, when you were looking at your diaries and we talked about your exes – well, I remember you saying that being a wife changes people and their lives, but you never said how it changed your life. Is this what it means to be a wife, Mum? That you live your life around Dad? He brings in most of the money, but you work too. You do almost everything else, in fact. Dad does and says what he wants to all the time. I think he has the best of all worlds at the expense of everyone else. You are his minion. Well?”
I pull her close. “I know that Dad and I have… issues, Pippa. All marriages go through rocky patches, and this is one of ours. Now that he has a new, less stressful job, I’m sure that things will change for the better. Please try not to let it worry you.” I take her hands in mine and stare into her eyes. “I’m really glad you came to me and we can talk more openly now. I promise you that we are fine and we will be fine.” I have to get out. I feel stifled. “Can we park this conversation for now, darling? We need to prepare for Bea’s car boot tomorrow.”
Taking a bottle of wine and my laptop into the bathroom, I lock the door and sit against the radiator to drink and think. Then I type and type and type.
Note to self:
Never forget that every day is different and that positive things come out of the most desperate of situations. Hold onto dedication and positivity.
Is Geoff going out a lot?
Is he neglecting the children?
Belittled? Taken for granted?
He wants the best of all worlds at the expense of everyone else?
We have a strategic partnership.
His minion?
Is this my future?
Saturday, midday.
Bea’s car boot sale has not been a success, and I have a raging hangover. To boot, Geoff has sent me a voicemail informing me of his whereabouts for today, tomorrow and into next week. I listen to it impassively and sigh aloud as the message ends.
“Well?” asks Bea, counting her meagre takings.
“Geoff sounds like he’s dictating a memo to his PA. He’s even specifying his packed lunch contents to take away with him. He’s on some course all next week.”
Bea looks impassive. “Let him make his own packed lunch, pet. You’re not his mother.”
“But it’s my job,” I reply indignantly.
“Is it?” For a split second, she looks as if she is going to say something more, but for some reason she changes her mind and the subject. “Sod husbands and sod this car boot. I’ll treat you to lunch, Ames. We’re worth it.”
1.30 p.m.
Tucking into garlic bread at Pizza Pizza, I seize the moment and quiz Bea about Blue Jumper Man and Him. “I still don’t know why your friend Jason stole my secret snog, Bea.” I fiddle with my napkin. It’s difficult to look her in the eye. Bea chews slowly on her garlic bread and studies me, intrigued.
“I find it interesting that Jason snogged you, pet. He’s a very private person and usually reserved. It was completely out of character for him to do something like that.” She laughs heartily. “I know that since his last toxic relationship ended, he has partied a bit more, though. Perhaps the snog with you was some kind of release? Tell me about it again, pet. The thought of being grabbed without any warning and passionately ravished by a stranger in complete darkness sounds awesome. What a story to tell when we’re old wrinklies.”
And then we hear a cough… followed by a familiar voice. Our eyes lock in abject horror. Blue Jumper Man Jason is sitting at the next table to us. I want to die right now. If I could don Bilbo Baggins’ invisibility ring and disappear…
“D’you think he’s heard?” I whisper urgently to Bea. I feel sick. Bea is unperturbed.
“Dunno, pet. Let’s see, shall we? Act normally and say hi. Jase?”
“Bea! How are you?” He sees me. “And my Beautiful Lady.”
“On your own, Jase?”
“I’m grabbing a quick bite before driving to Glasgow to pick up the remains of my pissed brother from the airport. God knows if he’s alright. Only he could go away and leave his mobile at home.”
“Come and join us, pet.”
Before I can protest, Jason is seated at our table, sharing our food, our wine and our conversation. I heave a sigh of relief. If Jason’s brother has been away without his mobile, he won’t have seen that I’ve rung him. Perhaps he’ll ignore it.
Geoff texts me. “Oh guys, I have to go. I’d completely forgotten that I said I’d pick Evie up from the cinema.” I ask for the bill and put on my jacket. Now I’ll never know about my snog, I lament silently. This was the ideal moment, and now it has gone.
“One minute, pet.” Bea looks shifty. “Jase, help us solve a mystery.”
“Anything for you, gorgeous,” he replies gaily.
“Bea, it’s fine. Leave it,” I say heavily.
“No,” insists Jason. “I’m intrigued.”
I opt to accost him before Bea can do any damage. “Why did you snog me at that divorce party?”
Jason leans back in his chair and claps his hands behind his head, clearly enjoying the moment. “You want to know if I had any intentions that night?”
“Well, yes and no,” I reply crossly. I am not enjoying this conversation, but I have to deal with it once and for all. Then at least I will have closure. “My challenge was to bag a secret snog. You stole it, and I have to know why, because you ruined my plan. I wanted it to be with someone else,” I complain. “Did you know? About my challenge, I mean. Did you do what you did on purpose?” I give him a penetrating stare.
“Do you want the answer you want to hear or the real answer?” he replies easily.
“What? Of course I want the real answer, Blue… Jason,” I almost shout. “Why would I want any other version?”
“Okay. I didn’t know about your challenge. However, I had no intention of sn
ogging you until I saw you. It was a moment of madness. Will that do?” he says.
“No, that will not do,” I assert. “Why did you do it? I need to know.”
“It was my opportunity to make somebody else jealous,” he replies simply. “Amy, I don’t fancy you. I’m really sorry. You’re cute and awesome – but I used you, I’m afraid. Please don’t hate me,” he pleads, taking my hands in his.
I laugh, and the tension is broken. “How could I hate you for not fancying me?” I reply. “But, why choose me?”
“Because the person I really want to snog is someone you know, but she wasn’t at that party,” he replies sheepishly.
“So, you thought that if you snogged Amy, then she would tell her various friends and somehow you and this mystery lady you fancy would get it on?” interjects Bea.
“Kinda,” Jason replies. “I didn’t quite know what to expect, but I knew that Amy would tell her friends – what girl wouldn’t? I hoped that somehow I could use the snog tactic to get Amy to introduce me to her at some point.”
“But it went a bit wrong, didn’t it?” giggles Bea.
“It did, rather,” smiles Jason. “I don’t know if Amy’s even told her, as she wasn’t at the party, and I’m not even sure how close you are to her, Amy. I watched you getting angry and ratted and soon after I decided to call it a day and left.”
“God knows what I would have done if I’d found you, Jason,” I say. “It was a good thing that you went when you did.” I think on. “What about when I chatted you up in the pub that night? We exchanged numbers. Was that another attempt at getting in with this girl?”
“I couldn’t believe my luck when that happened, Amy. I decided that if I could get to know you better then, eventually, you might invite me to an event where I could get her number. I’m still hoping. Interestingly enough, I’ve since found out that you were using me too – weren’t you, Amy?”
51 Weeks Page 22