Chapter 14 #8
H: I don’t think Wendy means that’s the aim. Because you can’t really make sense of it, can you? I think she’s talking more about the process.
J: Is that what you meant, Wendy?
W: Maybe. Yes. I think so. Look, I’m sorry, but what exactly is your role, here?
J: I’m sorry?
W: You, your role? What is it? Because I was under the – apparently mistaken – impression that you were here to help us fix our marriage.
J: Oh! That’s my role, is it?
W: Well, isn’t it?
J: I don’t know.
H: You don’t know?
J: No, perhaps I see my role as enabling you to find your truth, whether that’s staying together or admitting that you actually prefer to be apart.
H: Wow!
W: Yeah, wow.
H: Wens, shall we just?
J: You’re free to go whenever you wish, of course.
W: Yeah. Come on. This is bollocks.
Harry and Wendy
‘And I’ll have a hot chocolate,’ Wendy tells the waitress.
Harry nods out of the café window at a woman in a red coat, ringing the bell opposite. ‘His next victim,’ he says.
‘Poor woman. We should warn her. He has to be the worst marriage counsellor ever, right?’
‘Yeah, he was really shit, wasn’t he?’ Harry agrees.
‘And the Covid stuff!’
‘Awful. Should be barred. Unless…’
‘Unless?’
‘I just… I don’t know…’ Harry says. ‘I mean, he was so bad…’
‘And?’
‘I can’t help but wonder if he did it on purpose?’
‘On purpose?’
‘Yeah, you know… I mean, there’s nothing like providing a common enemy to convince you to stick together, right?’
‘Oh,’ Wendy says. ‘Yes, I see.’ Then, ‘D’you really think so?’
‘Nah,’ Harry says. ‘No, I think he’s probably just a bit useless.’
‘Yes,’ Wendy agrees. ‘Me, too.’
The waitress arrives with their drinks. Once they have thanked her Wendy stirs her hot chocolate slowly, then asks, ‘Who advised you he was good, anyway?’
Harry sips his Coke, then says, ‘It was Steve Mason. You know, the PE teacher?’
‘Oh, right. But didn’t he…? I thought he got divorced.’
‘Yeah, actually, he did,’ Harry says. He bites his bottom lip and pulls a silly face.
‘You idiot,’ Wendy says.
‘Yeah, probably not my best idea,’ Harry says. ‘Still, I liked what you said, about, you know, decoding the mystery, together.’
‘Thanks,’ Wendy says. ‘Though he had no idea what I was talking about.’
‘None,’ Harry agrees solemnly.
‘Actually, I’m not sure I know what I was talking about.’
‘No,’ Harry says. ‘Me neither. It sounded cool, though. Quite poetic.’
‘We are better off together, though, aren’t we? You do think that, don’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ Harry says, reaching across the table for her wrist. ‘Yeah, I think we are. Definitely. Even if we don’t seem to fit together anymore.’
‘Hum,’ Wendy says in a silly voice. ‘Quite a profound statement, that one, don’t you think?’
‘Gosh, I just realised, we didn’t pay,’ Harry says. ‘We didn’t pay, did we?’
‘Um, no. Well, I didn’t, anyway.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Ha!’ Wendy laughs. ‘Well, serves him right.’
Wendy and Todd
Wendy: Hello, sweetheart.
Todd: Oh! Sorry, I thought it was Dad.
W: Yes, I bet. I’m on your father’s phone. He lent it to me.
T: Right. Um, why are you on Dad’s phone?
W: Maybe because you don’t pick up when I use mine?
T: …
W: I’ve left about ten voicemails, and I’ve called you maybe twenty times since I got back.
T: Look, I’m sorry, OK?
W: For?
T: For not picking up. I just… I didn’t know what to say.
W: About what, honey?
T: About, oh, come on, Mum. You know full well.
W: Something to do with the wedding, maybe?
T: Look, I’m sorry. I should have told you. I know.
W: I understand that was a difficult thing to say to me.
T: Cool. So, we’re good, then?
W: But leaving it to your little sister was a bit weaselly, don’t you think?
T: Yeah, I know. I asked Dad first. But he was just like, ‘Do it yourself, lad.’
W: Interesting. Well, I don’t blame him.
T: He says you’ve stopped drinking, though…
W: I have. And that’s partly thanks to you.
T: Thanks to me?
W: Yes. Your ultimatum about the wedding helped me realise I have a problem. So thanks for that.
T: Oh. OK. Good.
W: I’d very much like to meet Amanda before the wedding, Todd, if that’s at all possible.
T: Um, sure. OK. Maybe we’ll come home for the spring break. And it wasn’t me, you know.
W: What wasn’t, honey?
T: It wasn’t me who was worried about you at the wedding. Not to start with anyway.
W: I’m not sure I’m following you.
T: It was Sue and Neil. I mean, I don’t want to get them into trouble or anything, but they were the ones who got Amanda all worked up.
W: Why? What did they say?
T: She was telling them all the plans. For the reception and stuff. And Sue said she didn’t think it was wise. To have it in a pub.
W: Because of me?
T: Yeah. Kind of.
W: Oh, honey, I’m sorry.
T: And then Amanda got scared that there would be some awful sort of Four Weddings and a Funeral scene – that it would be the only thing anyone would remember. Especially what with you and Dad not talking and everything. Her folks are dead posh, too.
W: I’m not sure that—
T: I mean, they’re a bit, you know… What people call ‘stiff upper lip’. They wouldn’t cope well. With a scene.
W: I think even posh people have domestics, honey, but I hear what you’re saying.
T: Sorry, I didn’t mean—
W: Todd, sweetheart, I get it. And I’m sorry I had you all worried. But everything’s going to be fine. Because I’m not drinking anymore, at all.
T: You are happy for me, aren’t you? About me getting married, I mean? Cos you haven’t said it, you know.
W: God, of course I am, Todd! And you’re right I should have said that first.
T: But are you really?
W: Look, I am. I just worry about you. I worry that it’s too soon, that you’re too young. All that stuff.
T: But we’re in love, Mum…
W: Yes, I know. And I’m very, very happy about that. I just worry… It’s a mother thing, I think. It’s kind of non-negotiable, I’m afraid. It’s what mums do. They worry.
T: Right, so are…
W: Yes?
T: Are we OK, Mum? Like really? Cos all this has been fu… Messing with my…
W: Todd?
T: I’m sorry, Mum, but it’s been really eating me up. I felt so stuck in the middle. I’ve been feeling kind of pukey about it all. Cos if I tried to change the reception I’d have to explain why. And if I didn’t change it then…
W: Please don’t get upset, honey. Take a deep breath. Everything’s fine. Everything’s perfect. I’m sober as a judge, and I’m not upset at all.
T: Really?
W: Cross my heart, I’m thrilled to bits for you. And I love you. Because no matter what you do or what choices you make, I’m your mother. So that’s non-negotiable, too.