Love Is a State of Mind: Nobody's Life is Perfect (9 page)

This one really was wishful thinking.  A) I don’t look remotely like Cameron Diaz and B) I’m about thirty years too late and C) What would Jude Law be doing in Stowchester, anyway?

Putting that all aside, I went somewhat slowly to the door and slid the chain on.  I opened it slightly, having turned on the outside light and there was … David.  I was acutely aware of the difference between Jude and David at that point and also reluctant to remove the chain.  I drew the door open as far as the chain would go and said, “What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

“No, I’m busy.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I am.  I have got a life, you know.”

“Please … Anna … I need some more clothes.”

“Why didn’t you ring first?”

“Well, I thought it would be okay.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Can I just pop in for a few minutes?”

“No, you can’t,” and I slammed the door.  It gave me such satisfaction that I rather childishly did V signs at him from behind the door.

He rang the bell again and I could hear his muffled voice pleading, “Please, Anna … just a few minutes.”

I undid the chain and opened the door with force.  “Come on then, get a move on.”

I found it difficult to be normal with him.  How was I meant to react?  This was something out of my experience and I know I was behaving like a spoilt brat, but I couldn’t stop myself.

He came through the door looking as if he was expecting me to lash out at him.  Gaz got up and came over to David, wagging his tail.  “Hello, ol’ chap,” he said, bending down to stroke Gaz’ ears.  Gaz looked up at him with such love in his eyes, I wanted to take him to one side and put him straight – but dogs don’t have all our baggage.  They just know who they like.

“So, how are we going to deal with everything then?” I said, slumping down on the sofa.  “I don’t want you to keep barging in here, whenever you want.  I think you ought to come round properly and move everything …”

“Hold on, Anna, this is my house …”

“Oh, is it?  I was under the impression that you’d just moved out to live somewhere else.”

“Yes … but it’s still my house and I have as much right to be here, as you.”

His face was grey – combining both anger and guilt, in equal measures.  He sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and stared at me.  I wanted to say something reasonable, not get involved in a cat fight, so I said, “Well, legally you’re right, I’m sure, but morally …”

“I realise that, as you say, morally, I have no right – but practically, I do need my clothes, Anna.  Couldn’t we just talk about arrangements, sensibly?”

I thought about this – Gaz was now sitting next to me – I felt as if he’d chosen an alliance with me – and drawing him closer for support, I said, “Look, you’ve made your decision.  Any ‘arrangements’ as you call them, boil down to this – collect your things and – leave me alone.”

“Anna, it’s very early days, I know and there’s no pressure, but … Suzie and I can’t stay in her flat forever … at some point, we’re going to have to move and then we’ll have to talk about selling this and sharing …”

“Over my dead body,” I yelled, Gaz looking at me with shock.

“When you’ve calmed down, you’ll see that it’s the only way.  There’s ‘no blame’ in divorce now, you know – we’ll just divide our assets fifty/fifty.”

He was being so matter of fact about the end of our marriage.  The word ‘divorce’ had never entered our vocabulary before and it hit me in the gut.  I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to face the reality of it.  God, he’d only been gone a few weeks.  What was the hurry?

“Is she pregnant or something?” I said.

“No, of course not … but the flat’s really small …”

“Why didn’t you think of that, when you left?  It’s hardly my fault, is it?”

“Look, we don’t need to even think of it yet … but as long as you know, this is something we will have to address sometime soon.  In the meantime, Anna, I need some clothes.  By the way, did Adam get off okay?”

“Yes, no thanks to you,” I said.  “Why didn’t you insist on seeing him, before he went?”

“I thought it was better that way … I know he’s really angry with me …”

“Can you blame him?”

“No, I know, but … I didn’t want to spoil his big moment.  I’ll email him and explain everything once he’s settled over there.”

“Maybe you could email me too – I’d be fascinated to hear your ‘explanation’.”

We looked at each other across the chasm between us.  Where had our relationship gone?  It had been wiped out … swept away on a flood tide of bitterness.

“One day, I’ll try and explain it all to you, Anna.  I’m not sure I understand it myself at the moment.  All I know is – I had to go and I’m sorry for what it’s done to you.”  He stood up.  “Can I have a couple of black bin liners?  I realise I haven’t brought anything to carry my stuff …”

I got up and went to the drawer where they live.  I broke off two and shoved them at him.  “Close the door on your way out,” I said and turning up the volume on the TV, I sat down next to Gaz. 

Monkeys were grooming each other, finding fleas and eating them.  David left the room and I continued to watch, as a male monkey lorded it over a group of females.  I suddenly saw myself as one of David’s harem.  I decided I was going to have to break free – not at all easy at my age and in terms of the animal kingdom, maybe dangerous, but I was going to have to try.

Chapter Eight

So, the summer holidays stretch in front of me.  Six weeks of freedom – to do whatever I want.  I’ve done my swim – my first bid to get fit and lose weight – now what?

Holly has suggested I go up to London for the weekend, which I’m looking forward to, but I’ve got five days to fill, in the meantime.

I sit up in bed – I’ve woken late on my first free weekday of the holidays – a luxury that we both used to enjoy.  I grab my mobile phone that’s sitting on the bedside table – it says it’s ten thirty – I can’t quite believe I’ve slept so long.  I feel as if I’ve been drugged, my limbs are heavy and my eyes won’t open.  The bedroom is a mess and I decide today will be the day I’ll clear out my cupboards, throw away clothes I’ve had for years and never wear any more.  Shafts of sunlight are streaking through the closed curtains and I slowly get out of bed and shuffle over to pull them.  The sunshine makes my eyes ache, the sky’s a piercing blue and I watch a magpie as it lands on next door’s willow tree.

I realise Gaz must be crossing his legs, as it’s so late and I wander down the stairs into the silence of the hall.  There is a pile of letters on the door mat, which I ignore, and go into the kitchen.

Gaz gets off his bed slowly and wagging his tail, he plods towards me with a hurt expression on his face as if to say,
you really are letting standards slip – I’ve been starving since seven o’clock.
I feel guilty as I stroke his head and reassure him silently that it won’t happen again.  I throw his unappetising dry biscuits into his bowl and place it down on the floor.  Gaz hoovers the kibble up in about twenty seconds flat and then stands at the back door, waiting to go out into the garden.  I let him out and watch him through the kitchen window, as he wanders off round the lawn, lifting his leg on various plants as he passes.

*

I take a cup of tea to the table, with my cereal, and sit down.  Your presence flutters and drifts around, pervading my thoughts.  You were always so bright and cheery in the mornings – not like me – you were a ‘morning’ person and whistled when you stood waiting for the toast to pop up and chatted animatedly about your forthcoming day.  You’d joke with the children and read bits out of the newspaper you thought I might find interesting.  You’d run back up the stairs to do your teeth and call out loudly ‘See you at school!’ when you left – we’d go separately, you leaving far earlier than me, most days.  When you were in the house, there was always life and laughter and now you’ve gone, the house is quiet … so quiet.

After what you’ve done, you’d think I wouldn’t be able to look back with love, but I can.  The moment I saw you that day, so many moons ago, I knew you were the man I wanted to marry.  I was only twenty-one, just finishing my degree – a naive, young student, but I just felt I’d been waiting for you.  They talk about love at first sight and it was definitely like that for me. 

You were sitting on that bus and you had the only spare seat, next to you.  I can still remember walking up the aisle, nearly to the back, transfixed by your face.  You were totally unaware of me coming towards you – you were staring out of the window – and as I sat down next to you on the narrow bench, you turned and smiled at me and shuffled up a bit, to give me more room.  My shoulder was rubbing up against your shoulder and I was sure there was some sort of electric current buzzing and hissing through our sleeves.  I hoped you weren’t going to get off at the next stop … and you didn’t.

I, too, pretended to be riveted by the passing scene, just so that I could look towards you.  I studied your profile
– your angular nose, your cheek bones jutting, your floppy hair with its hint of gold.  You turned and spoke to me.  I still remember those words; they weren’t earth-shattering or anything, but they were the start of our life together, the beginning of a friendship that would go on and on.  Because that’s how I saw us, as friends.  You were my best friend and my husband.  I told you everything and trusted you with my life.

You said,
I’m getting off at the next stop
and on a whim, I said,
So am I
…even though my stop was way further.  We smiled at each other and I stood up and let you go first down the aisle.  I hadn’t thought it through, I had no idea what I was going to do when we both stepped off the bus, but I walked behind you, loving your back view, as much as your profile.  You held onto a steel pole to steady yourself as the bus lurched forward and you looked back at me.  Now I got the benefit of a face-on smile and my insides melted.  The bus braked and I swayed forward and you caught me, as I was about to fall.  We laughed and I could feel your hand burning the skin on my arm.  After much hissing of airbrakes, the bus inched forward in the heavy traffic of the busy Birmingham road and slowed, more gently this time, as it eased its way into the bus stop.  More hissing, as the doors opened and we both stepped out onto the pavement.  I couldn’t bear the thought of you just walking away and laughing, I said,
Thank you for catching me, just then.
  And you looked at me and said,
Do you fancy a drink?
 

In that moment, I knew I had met my soul mate.  Such mundane words had been spoken, but it was as if I’d known you were there, somewhere in the world – and you’d just been trying to find me.

*

We have some fitted cupboards in our bedroom – his remaining things are on the left, and mine are on the right.  My heart sinks when I open the righthand doors – I have a daunting task.  If I remove all the things I now hate, there would probably be only one pair of jeans left – every piece of clothing hanging there, appears to be either black, charcoal grey or light grey; dullness jumps out and strangles me with its dull dullness. 

I get everything off its hanger and lay the clothes out on the bed; I start trying things on that I haven’t worn for years.  One pair of jeans, I can’t get past my thighs; one grey skirt – I can’t even do the zip up; one smart pair of black trousers, I can get the zip up, just, but the button pops off as I attempt to put it through the hole.  My only evening dress, in red chiffon, floats beautifully on the hanger, but on me, looks like some frightful, cheap catalogue dress.  I realise I’ve turned into my mother, as I stare at myself with utter amazement.  When did that happen?  I look just like I remember her, when she and my dad went out to a works do – nicely ‘done up’ in her eyes, but looking frumpy and unsophisticated, in mine.  And now, here I am, looking like her, but worse. 

I pull off the dress and throw it across the room in disgust, angry both at the dress, for making me look a fright and at myself, for allowing the rolls of fat to accumulate around my middle.  I pull my rather large pants up over the rolls, in an attempt to disguise them, but to no avail.  I vow to buy some magic pants that are said to be a wonder at sucking it all in and hiding it – but surely it’s got to go somewhere?  Maybe I need one of those all in one underwear garments, as seen on Gok Wan’s TV programme, so there’s nowhere for the fat to escape.  No VPL (visible panty line) because the pants end below the knees and the corset ends above the boobs.  It sounds like torture, but maybe it’s the way forward.

The process of trying on things goes on for an hour and by the end, I’m exhausted and depressed with the state of my clothes and my physical shape.  There’s a huge pile of ‘definite throw outs’; a small pile of ‘possible keeps’ and very few ‘definite keeps’. 

I’m going to have to go shopping or I’ll have nothing to wear.  Most women would love this prospect, but I view it with dread.  I’ve never been good at buying clothes and now that I’ve confronted my body head on, I know buying clothes will be even more of a challenge.

*

Lisa and I arrange to go shopping on Wednesday, in Bath.  It’s going to be a day out as well as a shopping trip – a chance for her to have a day away from her kids and for me to have some company.  I don’t like shopping with other people, but we agree we’ll split up, do our own thing, and then meet up for lunch.