Chapter 13
FLAVIA
Well. My mind is flipping.
I was just messaging my mum and Jenna, definitely in danger of going full ‘Dominic says’ and ‘Dominic did’, and therefore trying really hard to barely mention him, but also not too little because that would be weird, and then I found myself smiling just at the thought of his name.
And then at the thought of lots of other Dominic-related stuff.
And then, literally while I was thinking – dreamily – about him, I got a message from Jed:
Happy New Year Flavia.
Could we talk? Soon?
I’m so sorry for everything that happened in the summer. I think I made a terrible mistake. I realise that I would like to have children. With you. You’d be an amazing mother.
I’m so sorry for putting you through hell.
Happy New Year!
And see you very soon I hope.
I can come to England whenever you like. Or… you could get on a plane and come back???
Love you.
Jed
I feel terrible. Terrible. Or, actually, maybe not terrible. Incredibly weird, though.
Dominic is the first person that I’ve slept with – kissed even – since Jed and I separated. I haven’t been on a single date since we split. I wasn’t ready.
I still, of course, haven’t been on a date. I have, though, very much had sex with Dominic.
And – horrifyingly – it was basically the best sex I’ve ever had. As in, better than the sex I used to have with my husband. The only other time in my memory that matches up to it was the night Dominic and I spent together when we were young.
I feel very, very bad that while Jed was texting me basically saying – unless I’m mistaken – that he’d like to get back together, I was thinking about having sex in the shower with Dominic.
Actually. I do know that Jed has been on dates since our split.
I asked my Sydney girlfriends about it and with great reluctance they told me what they knew.
I was adamant I wanted an update (an outline, not actual specific details of his dating life) because I didn’t want to find out from him or his family that he was getting remarried or had got someone pregnant without some foreknowledge.
And knowing the way he was before me, I’m pretty sure he will have slept with them.
I have done absolutely nothing wrong. Obviously. It’s nearly five months since Jed and I separated.
It still feels odd, though.
And, also, what do I want to do about Jed?
In a way, the fact that I have now slept with someone would mean that we could get back together on a more level pegging.
Otherwise it could maybe have felt – even though it wouldn’t be true, because he does of course have the right to do whatever he wants now we’re both single – a little odd that he’s dated other people since our split and I haven’t.
So, really, from a Jed perspective, it’s good that I’ve slept with Dominic.
Okay. I need to stop. I’m doing too much thinking again.
Dominic is standing in front of me with a slightly odd expression on his face, and that’s probably because I’ve been looking odd.
We’ve had an amazing trip together. We have one more night.
Out of courtesy to Mum – who has been so excited to hear about Table Mountain and the safari, and will be really looking forward to hearing about tonight’s beach party – I need to push Jed out of my mind and just enjoy tonight.
And, surely, if anything else does happen between Dominic and me, for just tonight, it really won’t make any difference.
Having sex three times, for example, is conceptually no different from having sex twice.
‘Should we go?’ I suggest.
‘Yeah.’
Dominic’s wearing a pale blue, long-sleeved linen shirt and chinos.
He looks gorgeous. I like every single iteration of him in all his different outfits.
The thought crosses my mind that I’d love to see every iteration of him for the rest of time.
I squash it, fast. I barely know him, really.
This thing that’s going on between us… it’s clearly purely physical.
So, yes, I’d be interested to see him every day forever.
And enjoy seeing him. But really that’s just like appreciating the amazing scenery and animals we saw on the safari.
‘You look lovely,’ Dominic tells me, looking at the sparkly gold dress I brought for this evening, before holding his arm out for me to take.
* * *
Due to all the sex, we arrive for the drinks a little later than the agreed meeting time, but in our defence we are not the last – unusually, Mike’s after us, and then Judith a few minutes after him – and forty-five minutes really isn’t that much time for two people to get ready for smart drinks after a day on safari even if they haven’t been having sex.
We’re served drinks and a variety of biltong-based canapés.
I’m not a big dried-meat fan, so had never tasted biltong before this trip, and didn’t know much about it.
Maxim tells us that it’s air-dried without heat, giving it a unique texture, and that it’s usually made from beef but can also be made from game meats such as ostrich or kudu, a type of antelope.
‘These are stunning,’ Dominic says, having just finished a biltong croquette.
‘I know.’ I pop my next canapé into my mouth. It’s a puff pastry case containing biltong cubes, halved grapes and crème fraiche – not a combination I would have imagined – and it’s amazing.
Yet again, I feel a pang for my mum and the loss of my dad. They would have loved these drinks and the canapés. The pang, plus our lack of sleep last night and the weirdness I’m feeling in relation to Jed, mean that I don’t feel great in this moment.
‘I think your parents would have loved this.’ It’s like Dominic is a mind-reader. ‘And I think that your mum will be delighted that you’re having a wonderful time in her stead and will love hearing about it.’
‘Yes. Very true. I was feeling a little bit miserable again about Dad—’ again I’ve surprised myself by being able to mention my grief to Dominic ‘—but I think – for them – I should ignore the sadness tonight and just enjoy myself.’ And I shouldn’t think about Jed either until tomorrow.
‘Exactly. Of course you feel sad about your dad, and your mum’s loss, but also they would only want you to be happy and to live your life.’
I give an extremely unattractive, great big honking sniff and say, ‘Thank you. You know, sometimes you can be very good to talk to.’
‘That’s obviously because I’m always right.’
‘Yeah, no, I wouldn’t go that far.’ I grin at him, and then take a large sip of my very delicious champagne to recover.
We join the rest of the group, and it is of course lovely.
We’re all keen to reminisce about the safari, swap other stories, laugh together.
It’s unbelievable really that we’ve only known each other for three days.
In fact, less than that. It feels so much longer.
And with the experiences we’ve shared, I feel that we’ve really got to know each other as people.
Sometimes, an intense experience over a short period can be way more bonding than much more lengthy acquaintanceships, I reflect, as Judith and I both nearly snort champagne we’re laughing so much at Mike’s wine-snob horror when Charlotte raves about some alcohol-free fizz she buys regularly.
The time whizzes by, and it’s a surprise when Maxim tells us that it’s already time to join our beach party.
‘This feels so weird,’ I say happily to Dominic as – with me holding his arm again – we make our way along the beach to where a big group has gathered around a bar and the most amazingly fancy barbecue aka the braai.
‘New Year is supposed to be cold. And here we are on a summer’s night on the actual beach.
’ It isn’t entirely weird for me, because I did do a few New Years in Australia, but also it is still weird.
When you’ve grown up with every single festive period of your life until your mid-twenties in the northern hemisphere, a warm Christmas and New Year is odd.
‘I know. All wrong. But in a very nice way.’
As time moves on and we head towards midnight, we all eat unbelievable burgers (I don’t want to be disloyal but these do make even my mum’s legendary barbecues slightly pale into second place) and talk, laugh, do all the usual party things, with the freedom of being with several hundred complete strangers, all of whom seem very nice and very open to chatting to anyone.
There’s music, and people begin to dance as we head towards midnight.
Dominic and I are always near each other – sometimes in the same little group, sometimes not – but I definitely always know exactly where he is in my peripheral vision, and when I sneak a glance at him he’s always looking at me too.
It reminds me of being young, before my marriage, before so much life happened, before all the cynicism kicked in, just flirting the night away with someone you really like.
It reminds me of my dad’s birthday party in our garden all those years ago.
And how that night ended. And yes. If I’m honest, I want a similar night tonight. Knowing what I know from earlier today, it would feel criminal not to. I’ll think about my real life when I get back to reality.
It’s so much fun: intoxicating. Each time our glances snag we share little smiles, or do extra little shimmies for each other. It’s like the promise of something more to come. Every time I catch Dominic’s eye and twirl for him and he gives me a slow, appreciative smile, I love it.
When the big midnight countdown comes around, Dominic and I – from the separate little groups of people we’re dancing in – look at each other, and then we both mouth Excuse me at the others and kind of converge on each other, like there’s an invisible string pulling us together.
When we reach each other, I suddenly feel a little odd. Because this – the kiss that’s surely going to happen – feels kind of premeditated, as opposed to crazy, heat-of-the-moment passion, which is what all of our previous kisses have been.