Julia Gets a Life (47 page)

            ‘Our re-lay-shon-ship?’ he said it in exactly that manner. ‘Have we slipped into an episode of
Neighbours
suddenly?’

            ‘How we’re feeling about each other. You know, right now.’ Where the hell did I read
that
?

            ‘I can tell you how I’m feeling, Ju. Like you’re beyond belief.’

            Ju. He said ‘
Ju
’. I took a long, deep breath. ‘No, but
really
. How do you
really
feel about me, Richard?’

            ‘None of your business.’

            ‘Don’t retreat into sniffiness. You know you don’t mean that.’

            ‘Don’t start.’

            ‘But you don’t.’ I stood up. I had caught him on the squirm. Feeling empowered by this sudden shift in the dynamic, I said,

             ‘Look, when I saw you on TV, I was completely floored by how I felt. But I wasn’t sure if it was because of you, or me, or just rose tinted glasses, or wanting my cake and all that, or just a residual effect of having spent the last fifteen years of my life married to you. All I knew was that I didn’t expect to feel the way I did. So I thought if I saw you, spoke to you....then maybe I could sort out how I
did
feel and...’

            Richard shook his head, picked up his car keys and began to walk out of the kitchen. So I followed. We left the house, and I locked it. Then we walked side by side up the path to the car. I stood by the passenger door while he pressed the alarm key. Our gazes met, as it clunked, over the warm, dusty roof. His eyes seemed to glitter in the last coppery rays of the setting sun. Or was I just being fanciful? Probably. He sounded every bit the long married civil engineer when he said,

            ‘Do you want to know how I
really
, as you put it,
feel
about you? Then think back a way to when we got married. Remember how I felt then? Well that’s how I
still
feel. That’s how I’ll
always
feel. Boring, but there you have it. No blips, no changes, no crises of commitment. As you well know. Even if I did lose my senses for a while there. And even though you have become a bloody mad cow of late. Go on then, get in. And make sure you don’t sit on my Millennium plans.’

            I loved him for that. We got into the car.

The End

Almost....

Sunday

            Me;

            ‘Craig! Look, I can’t talk at the moment.’

            ‘You did it, then...’

            ‘Erm...’

            ‘I knew you would. Are you glad?’

            ‘Erm...’

            ‘I’m really fucked off...’

            ‘Look, could I...’

            ‘Give me a bell, yeah? Soon?’

            Me;

            ‘Oh, God, Craig, I wish I knew what to say to you. It was going to happen some time though, wasn’t it? I mean, you knew that, didn’t you? We both did, didn’t we? I mean, not Richard necessarily, but you know, just you and me. You’re going off to the states soon, and you’re
so
much younger than me and - yes, okay, I
know
- but I would have been on a pension while you were still in a band, most probably - can you imagine it? - and I couldn’t have given you any babies anyway, and...’

            ‘Shut the fuck up, you dozy cow. I
know
all that. I just, you know - Christ, you’ve got me at it now - I’m finding it difficult to handle the idea of not seeing you again. You know?’

            ‘Of course I know. But we will still
see
each other, won’t we? When Jax and I catch up with you after you get back. They could hardly publish a book about Brit Pop and not put you in there, could they? Really?’

            ‘I suppose. But it seems a long way off. And it’s not like we’ll be...’

            ‘No. No, we won’t. Craig, I’m sorry.’

            ‘Bet I’m sorrier than you, Mrs Potter.’

Monday

            Me;

            ‘What’s with this ‘cow’ business, anyway, Rani? That’s twice now, in two days I’ve been called a cow. Richard called me a mad one and Craig called me a dozy one. It’s not really on, is it? I was kind of hoping I’d be able to exert a new authority on my relations with men now. You know, do away with all the passive/aggressive female thing and you know, just command respect. You know?’

            ‘They’d never get away with it in Delhi. You could most probably be shackled up and dragged behind an ox for saying stuff like that.’

            ‘But I thought women were so repressed in Indian society.’

            ‘The
cow
, Jules, is sacred.’

            Rani;

            ‘What do you think? Here, take a dekko.’

            ‘Bit underexposed, focus slightly off. Lighting dodgy. Who’s is it?’

            ‘Not
who’s
is it.
Who
is it. His name is Raul, he’s studying accountancy in Bombay and I’m going out to meet him at Christmas.’

            ‘Oh.’

            ‘You said it.’

Tuesday

            Lily;

            ‘Alors! It is good to be back home at last! You must tell me every tiny detail of your love life. I am so fed up of hearing - on and on and
on
- about how my mother is going to knit me designer booties and stay for a month and cook endless quiches and pottage. And Malcolm loves every minute! Can you imagine! He and my mother are going to drive me to a mother and baby home in despair. They are so in love with each other! You will have to rescue me at every opportunity - if, that is, you have time between dashing here and everywhere with your photographic jobs and so on. And please tell me if you would like to see the translations of Jerome’s letters
before
I give them to Emma, which I think you should because they are more than a little rude. You know what French men are like! Bye!’

Wednesday

            Howard;

            ‘How’s it going?’

            ‘Okay.’

            ‘Richard moved back now?’

            ‘Yesterday. I have accepted the trouser press back into my life. How is Nick?’

            ‘Oh, he’s fine. Busy.’

            ‘I’ll bet.’

            ‘You don’t like Nick, do you?’

            ‘Er...’

            ‘Jules, I know what you saw.’

            ‘Er...’

            ‘Look. I know about Nick, and it’s all right. Honest.’

            ‘Don’t tell me. Just sex?’

            ‘It’s not like what
we
have.’

            ‘But couldn’t he....’

            ‘He tries...’

            ‘Hard enough?’

            ‘His best. life’s too short, Jules. So I don’t want to know. I’m happy, he’s happy. You happy?’

            ‘I think so. Yes. Happy. I am.’

Thursday

            Max;

            ‘Mum, it says nothing in the prospectus about logos, honest. I’ve read it six times. There is nothing.’

            ‘It says “outer coat to be black and
without
motifs”, which means no
Nike
logos the size of a tea tray. Now, this one would do fine. It’s black, and it’s waterproof, and it’s got lots of useful pockets...’

            ‘Mum, it’s total pants! I would look a complete derr-brain! Do you want the whole school to laugh at me?’

            ‘Total what?’

            ‘Total
pants
, Mum. Total.’

            ‘Pants?’

            ‘Mum, don’t be such a saddo. I thought you were
cool
. Look,
K-Swiss
then. That one. The K’s very small...’

           
Emma;

            ‘I can’t believe you are even
thinking
about it! Everyone knows the Bahamas are old hat now. Only sad people go to the Bahamas these days...’

            ‘But your Dad and I thought you and Max would be thrilled! The Bahamas, Em, just think of it - white sand, palm trees, warm sea...’

            ‘Mosquitoes. Tropical spiders. Snakes.
And
some naff teen-club for derr-brains as well, I suppose. Mum, why can’t we just go somewhere cheaper and save the money? Buy a conservatory or something...’

            ‘But I don’t
want
a conservatory. I want an exotic foreign holiday. I want to drink cocktails out of pineapples and dance the night away with hibiscus blooms in my hair....’

            ‘Ye-uch.’

            ‘So where do
you
want to go then - the Siberian tundra?’

            ‘No. Just France.
Please
?’

Friday 

            Richard;

            ‘I don’t know if I can live with this colour.’

            ‘Too bad. It took me forever to do.’

            ‘What? Painting four walls?’

            ‘You just don’t get it, do you? This is a
paint effect
.’

            ‘Quite. It’s certainly affected. What was wrong with the cream?’

            ‘Cream is yesterday’s colour.’

            ‘It’s better than this. This looks like the inside of yesterday’s take-away containers.’

            ‘It’s called Scorched Sienna.’