Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
The following Friday, I was at the tapas restaurant in Winchester with the girls.
‘Well, fill us in, Lucy. I’m dying to hear all,’ said Ruth, eager to hear the gossip from last weekend. Though I rented a room from her, because of both our busy work schedules, we were like ships passing in the night.
‘I’m not dying to hear all,’ Clara said, between mouthfuls of spicy potatoes. ‘In fact, I’ve heard so much about John fucking Kelly, I’m practically in love with him myself. I could pretty much draw a nude portrait of him, I’ve had so much visual.’
‘Sorry, not sorry,’ I said with a shrug.
‘Well? Does the rug match the carpet?’ Ruth asked boldly, leaning closer for the gossip.
‘Absolutely. And what a wonderful carpet it is.’
‘She came home walking like John Wayne!’ Clara grassed me up without a second thought.
‘You should have seen her trying to sit down on her saddle seat. It was priceless. She had to work standing up for the first half of the week. I suppose that’s what you get for having sex eleven times in two days. ’
‘Girls, in fairness, I was making up for lost time. It had been years,’ I defended myself, grinning as I remembered.
Another one of our friends, Katie, joined us for dinner. She didn’t get out as much as the rest of us as she had two toddlers.
‘It’s all fun and games until you have to push a tiny human out of your vagina.
Make the most of it, I’m telling you, those lazy Sunday shags in bed, the kitchen sex, the shower sex, the lot.
It’s not nearly as fun when you have two little people biting at your ankles and you can’t even sneeze without peeing in your knickers,’ she advised us.
She gave off holy hell about those kids, but she absolutely adored them.
She often regaled us with mundane stories of motherhood that had us doubled up with laughter, assuring us she would have the last laugh.
She claimed by the time we had children, hers would be old enough to wipe their own arses and reach the cereal in the morning.
‘Such a week I’ve had. My period was late,’ she said solemnly. ‘I nearly fucking died. The fear was real. I couldn’t even look at David. His life wouldn’t be worth living if he’d got me pregnant again. I can barely cope with what I’ve got, let alone adding another one to the mix.’
Ruth slapped the table in hysterics. ‘You were angry at David? My biology isn’t great, but I was sure it took two.’
‘Listen to me girls, three times I’ve booked him into Harley Street for that fucking vasectomy.
Three times he cancelled the appointment with a variety of weird and wonderful sudden onset illnesses.
Though, he miraculously recovered from them, the second, the appointment was cancelled.
I told him straight, I have pushed two humans out of my vagina!
I’ve done enough for this family! The least he can do is endure a minor procedure.
It’s only a local anaesthetic, it can’t be that bad. ’
I spluttered my wine, struggling to laugh, swallow and breathe all at the same time.
‘He calls it major surgery,’ Katie continued. ‘He’ll need major surgery if he doesn’t go through with it the next time. Mark my words.’
The young couple on the table adjacent to us were in stitches, having heard every single bit of our explicit conversation.
‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at,’ Katie addressed them pointedly. ‘It will be you two next. This is how it starts.’ She gestured at the two of them holding hands over the table.
Downing her wine, she held her glass out for a refill, determined to make the most of her childfree evening.
It was so liberating to know I didn’t have to rush back, or face Rob when I got home. It was hard living out of one room, but in some ways, it made it easier; no mess, no tidying, and it was all mine.
I thought about Rob far less frequently than I thought I would. Sometimes whole days passed where I almost forgot I was ever married to him. It was mad. The guilt crept in occasionally, but I tried to remind myself that it was my life, and I had to live it my own way and do what made me happy.
Sometimes when I was enjoying a particularly happy moment for myself, that little devil appeared on my shoulder to interrogate me. Do you really think you deserve to be this happy?
Where do you think poor Rob is now?
You haven’t even called him to see how he is.
I tried to swat him away, like flicking my hair off my shoulder, but at times he was persistent. I even downloaded one of those meditation apps on my iPhone to help me banish him for good. I only listened to it twice, it bored the life out of me.
The only option was to try and conquer my demons myself. No one was harder on me than I was on myself.
If any one of my friends had been in my position, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.
I certainly wouldn’t have talked to them the way I talked to myself.
I just didn’t expect it to be boring old, sensible me that fell unexpectedly but undeniably in love with a ginger guy from the Wild Atlantic Way as it’s referred to.
(The girls prefer to call it The Wild Atlantic Willy).
‘So, we digressed.’ Ruth brought me back in the moment, nudging Katie with a conspiring wink. ‘Clara may have heard the details, but we didn’t. Do tell.’
I looked down into my glass as I remembered the events of the previous weekend. My lips curled up into a grin that extended to my eyes. ‘Seriously girls, it was unreal. The best I’ve ever had.’ I circled my finger round the edge of my wine glass and allowed myself to remember.
‘Oh fuck, look at her, she’s got it bad,’ Katie announced.
‘Are you seeing him again?’ Ruth asked.
‘Seeing him again?’ Clara stated incredulously.
‘She has nearly every fucking weekend booked up until Christmas with him! God forbid anyone wants their teeth cleaned. I caught her blocking off days in her work diary for ‘course days’ this week. You know what a compulsive planner and OCD freak she is!’
I took no offence. It’s been years since I gave them anything to talk about. I was actually enjoying it.
‘And is he coming here at all?’ Katie’s chocolate eyes danced at the prospect.
‘He might be.’ I didn’t want them interrogating him too early on.
‘Ah ha. We need to meet this ginger fella we keep hearing so much about. I’m dying to get a right look at him, see what all this fuss is about. He must be really something special to impress Miss Prissy Pants here,’ Katie teased.
‘If you think I’m letting you bitches anywhere near him, you can think again! God knows what you’re liable to say to him.’ I cringed even thinking about it.
‘We could tell him about the time of the dental hospital Christmas party, where you were so drunk you went home, let yourself into the house, kicked your stilettos off and heated up the left-over food in the fridge. Apart from you weren’t actually home, were you?
You were two doors down from where you should have been,’ Katie slapped the table, exhaling a deafening belly laugh.
‘That’s absolutely hilarious. He needs to know what he’s letting himself in for!’ Clara nodded in agreement.
‘It wasn’t that funny girls, it could have happened to anyone,’ I protested feebly.
‘It was hilarious! Unless you were the family hiding out in their own back garden, dialling 999 because there was a drunk woman in their house, eating them out of house and home.’
‘Don’t remind me.’ I winced thinking about it. ‘Thank God the police saw the funny side of it.’
‘John would love to hear that story,’ Ruth assured me. ‘It’s actually one of my favourites, I’m only sorry I wasn’t around at the time to see it.’
‘And you wonder why I’m not letting you anywhere near him?’
‘Ah, we are only teasing,’ Clara said. ‘We wouldn’t really tell him. Much.’
The restaurant was emptying. It was getting late, but we had no inclination to move.
‘Any word from Rob?’ Katie asked.
‘Not a dicky bird,’ I said.
‘No news is good news,’ Clara said.
My shoulders tensed at the mention of Rob.
‘Did you hear that Take That are doing a reunion tour?’ Ruth said, with a shrewd glance in my direction.
‘Oh my goodness! We need to get tickets!’ Katie latched on to this information immediately and I breathed a sigh of relief at the change in conversation.
Ruth was always so good at sensing my moods and rescuing me. Despite this, the devil had returned to his position on my shoulder, tormenting me with the same line.
I didn’t deserve to be happy.
It wouldn’t end well.
You reap what you sow.