Chapter Twenty-Six #2
She places a hand on my arm, stopping me.
‘Can I…’ She pauses to turn briefly to Justin.
‘Actually, would you mind giving Liv and me one second on our own? I’m sorry, I know this is probably your worst nightmare’—she nods to me—‘for both of you. But just one minute? Literally just one minute, okay?’ Justin nods silently, terror dancing across his features, but he slowly walks away.
Orla turns back to me, but I speak first. ‘God, I’m so sorry for being an absolute creep that day – coming to your event – I know you must think I’m a total—’
She waves her hand dismissively. ‘Don’t be silly. I’ve been there before.’ She smiles indulgently. ‘Maybe not that recently, but I am quite a bit older than you. It took an awful lot of learning – and unlearning – not to stalk the ex or new girlfriend of someone I liked.’
I think about my friend, Jools. How she says ageing has been revelatory for her. How she said everyone should have an older friend for advice.
‘Thanks,’ I say quietly. ‘For understanding, I mean. And for not saying anything to Justin. I’ve humiliated myself around that guy enough for one lifetime. I’m working on moderating some of my… less sensible impulses.’
She shakes her head. ‘It takes a lot of retraining when women are pitted against one another from day one. We get taught to compare ourselves and compete from such a young age. It’s not easy and I get it.
’ She rolls her perfect cat eyes. ‘And we rarely look at the person encouraging us to compete. I think if we looked at them instead, and stopped being mean to each other, women would be unstoppable.’
I take her in. I’ve mostly been able to shake my obsessive curiosity over this woman’s magical powers, but now she’s here, in the flesh, this close and this kind, I have to ask.
I need to know. I clear my throat. ‘How is… I mean, Justin is so different now. So completely transformed from the guy I dated. I barely recognise him. How did you… change him?’
She snorts a laugh. ‘I haven’t changed him.
I don’t think a person can change someone else.
They have to do it for themselves. I think…
’ She pauses to contemplate the question and I appreciate her so much for giving it the time of day.
‘… I think he just knew there was never any chance of me dating a little boy. I wasn’t the least bit interested in him when we met at a friend’s work thing.
He was so rumpled and messy – a toddler!
– and when my pal said he was keen, I laughed and told her there wasn’t a chance in hell.
Especially since he’d literally just come out of a relationship.
’ She pauses, looking a little embarrassed.
‘With you. Anyway, I’ve dated boys before, and they have a way of slowly turning you into their mum.
I will never, ever let that happen again.
Men and women are all equally capable of looking after themselves; why should I be the one to do it for another person, just because they were born with a pokey-out bit between their legs?
’ She smiles wryly. ‘The fact is, I’m happy on my own.
Why should I ever sacrifice that happiness for someone who doesn’t deserve it? ’
‘Fuck,’ I whisper. ‘So, it really is just about boundaries and knowing your worth?’ I’ve said those things out loud so many times to other women.
Whether it was sitting in my office with therapy clients, in the pub with my friends, or peering down a camera lens from that Morning Tea sofa, I’ve given this exact advice to countless women…
how is it possible I didn’t hear my own advice? Why did I never notice?
Orla wrinkles her nose adorably. ‘I guess so? But it’s not always that easy.
It’s hard to shake off a lifetime of societal training.
’ She raises an eyebrow. ‘And I don’t know what you saw about me online or whatever, but nothing is ever as perfect as it seems.’ She waves in Justin’s direction.
‘We had a major argument last night. Today was supposed to be an apology hot chocolate, and now I find out it’s his ex-girlfriend’s favourite place!
’ She rolls her eyes but she’s laughing with affection.
‘And that his ex is a beautiful, cool woman who must be ten plus years younger than me. A woman who also used to’—she makes a grossed out but teasing face—‘wash his clothes for him? Yikes.’
I grimace. ‘In hindsight, it is really mad that I ever thought Justin was the right guy for me.’ I pause. ‘I hope he’ll be the right partner for you.’
She regards me warmly. ‘God, that’s really nice,’ she says.
‘And you’re super chill and cool as well, how awful.
’ She laughs, and I wonder at her words.
She thinks I’m chill? Is this irony? I’ll have to check with Alanis Morissette – although I seem to recall none of the things she sang about were actually ironic.
Orla continues, ‘I guess time will tell if he’s the one.
I’m not sure if I even believe in them.’ She sniffs.
‘I don’t love that he let you be that person for him when you were together, but now I’m aware of it, I’ll just have to be vigilant about not slipping into bad habits. ’
‘It’s not easy,’ I acknowledge the truth of this with a shake of my head. ‘But I’m guessing it’s worth it to have a functioning, loving relationship. I hope you get to have one with him. Justin’s not a bad bloke for the most part. Just a walking orange flag.’
She smiles. ‘Jeez, you’d think they’d be easier to spot!
’ She pulls me in for a hug and I hold onto her, feeling the tightness that has sat like a stone in my stomach for weeks loosen.
Over her shoulder I spot Justin at some distance, watching us.
He still seems so very different; so unlike the man I dated for over a year.
But now that fact doesn’t scare me or make me feel horribly insecure.
It’s just some guy over there, and I sort-of wish him well. I wish them both well.
Plus, that look he’s wearing on his face of pure, unadulterated terror, at the sight of his current and ex-girlfriend embracing, gives me a serotonin boost that should last at least a month.