Rescuing Rose (10 page)

'Well… no. I… '

'Look, Theo, I haven't got all day. Do you want it, or don't you? It's a simple case of "Yes" or "No". ' Theo looked at me for a few seconds, and blinked. Then he suddenly smiled this odd, lopsided little smile.

'Well, ye-es. I reckon I do. '

'This is London FM, ' announced Minty Malone, as I sat in the basement studio on City Road the following Tuesday. 'Welcome back to
Sound Advice
, our twice-weekly late-night phone-in with the Post's agony aunt, Rose Costelloe. Do
you
have a problem? Then call 0200 222222 and Ask Rose. '

It was five past eleven and we'd already been on air for an hour. We'd heard from Melissa who was wondering whether to become Catholic, and Denise who was going bald and Neil who couldn't get a girlfriend and James who thought he was gay; then there was Josh, a jockey with mounting debts and Tom who hated his dad, and Sally who was having a nervous breakdown—the usual stuff. On the computer screen in front of me the names of the waiting callers winked and flashed.

'And on line one, ' said Minty, 'we have Bob from Dulwich. '

'Hi, Bob, ' I said. 'How can I help?'

'Well, Rose, ' he began hesitantly, as I scribbled on my pad, 'I'm quite a, well, yeah, big bloke really… ' Hmm… another fatso with low self-esteem. 'And I get my leg pulled about it at work. '

'I see. '

'Anyway, there's this girl there who's a real knockout and I think she likes me as she's always nice. But my problem is that every time I get up the nerve to ask her out she makes some excuse. '

'Bob, you say you're a big bloke—how much do you weigh?'

'About… '—I could hear the air being sucked through his teeth—'… seventeen stone. '

'And how tall are you?'

'Five foot ten. '

'Then you're just going to
have
to
lose
the
lard
! Sorry to be brutal, Bob, but it's true. I know you'd like me to say that this girl will fall in love with your great personality, but I think your great
person
is going to get in the way, and frankly, I think the only reason she's being so nice is because she feels sorry for you. Bob, take it from me, no self-respecting woman—let alone a "knockout"—is going to go out with a Sumo-sized bloke. The number for Weight Watchers is… ' I glanced at my handbook, '… 0845 712 3000 and I want you to ring it
first
thing. Do you promise me you'll do that?' I heard a deep sigh.

'Yeah, okay, Rose. I will. '

'And Bob I want you to ring in again a month from today and tell everyone that you've lost your first stone. '

'Okay, Rose, yeah. You're right. '

'Well done, Bob, ' said Minty, 'and now we have Martine, on line three. '

'Go ahead, Martine, ' I said.

'Well, ' she began in a trembly voice. 'The reason I'm ringing is because, well, I've just been told I can't have kids. ' A momentary silence followed: I could almost see the tears in her eyes.

'Martine how old are you?'

'Thirty-two. '

'And have you tried
all
avenues?'

'Yes. But I had cancer when I was a teenager, you see, and because of that the doctors can't help. '

'Well
I'd
like to help you, Martine, so stay on the line. Is that what you want to talk about—the fact that you've had this bad news?'

'No, ' she said. 'I'm beginning to accept that. The thing is I'd like to adopt but my husband's not keen. '

'Does he say why?'

'It's because he was adopted, and he had problems so he's afraid that any kids we adopted would too. '

'But so might any children that you had naturally. They could fall ill—God forbid—or they could fail at school or drop out. Life's fraught with difficulties and you can't not go ahead with something which could make you happy out of fear that it
might
go wrong. '

'I know, ' she said in a trembling voice. 'I've told my husband that. '

'And you sound like a lovely person, Martine, so I'm sure you'd be a really great mum. ' There was a tiny sob. Oh God, I shouldn't have said that. I could hear a Niagara of tears start to fall.

'Well… I think I would, ' she wept, 'but my husband seems set against adopting, but now I know it's my only chance. ' I glanced at Minty, who's three months pregnant. There was compassion all over her face.

'Martine, do you have a good relationship with your husband?' I asked.

'Yes, ' she whispered. 'In most ways I do. '

'And when did this issue first come up?'

'A month ago. We hadn't really talked about it before, because we thought I might still be okay. But then I got the final results from the hospital which told me that my chances of conceiving are nil. '

'Then give your husband a little more time. He needs to think about it—and men like to come round to things in their own way. So my advice is don't panic, and don't put any pressure on him as that could easily backfire. But I do think you should both talk to someone at NORCAP, the National Organisation for Counselling Adoptees and Parents: their number is'—I flicked through my handbook—'01865 875000. Will you call them, Martine?'

'Yes, ' she sniffed. 'Okay. '

'The line may be busy because this is National Adoption Week, but leave your number and they'll ring you back. And Martine, I don't mind telling you that
I
was adopted and I was absolutely
fine
. I've never had
any
problems, I had a really
great
childhood, and I'm sure that your kids will too. '

'Oh thanks, Rose, ' she whispered. 'I do hope so. ' And I was just going to go to the next caller, when I heard her say, 'but I think the reason
why
my husband feels so negative about adoption is because he's never traced his real mum. '

'Oh… '

'He still seems so
angry
with her for giving him up—it's like a festering wound. He rarely talks about it, but I think that's what's
really
bothering him and the issue of our adopting has brought it all up. '

'I see, well, look… thanks for calling in, Martine, and I, er… wish you the very best of luck. And now we go to Pam on line five. What's your problem, Pam?'

'Well, my problem is that I'm in my thirties, I'm single and as a freelance graphic designer, I work from home. '

'Ye-es. '

'But recently I've got to know my postman quite well… '

'Uh huh. '

'And I really fancy him. '

'I see. '

'I even get up early to make sure I catch a glimpse of him. '

'That must be tiring. '

'Oh it
is
. I've also taken to sending myself parcels so that he has to knock on the door. I'm totally smitten, ' she added.

'So what's the problem?'

'He's married—at least I think he is. He wears a ring on his left hand, put it that way. '

'Yup. He's married, ' I said.

'But he's absolutely gorgeous, Rose; I've never felt this way before. What should I do?'

'Well, honey, I think you should get real. I'm sure this macho mailman is very dashing but my advice is to stamp him "Return to Sender" and try and get out a bit more. And now Kathy on line three. What's the problem, Kathy?'

'The problem, Rose, is that my husband has left me!'

'I'm sorry to hear that. '

'Well I don't know
why
you're sorry, as it was you who told him to!'

'What?'

'A couple of weeks ago my husband wrote to you at the
Daily Post
and you told him to get divorced. '

'I'm sorry, but I haven't a clue what you're talking about. '

'You told him to leave me. He hid the letter, but I found it. It was you. His name's John. ' Oh God, now I remembered—it was the adulterous husband-basher. 'I mean, who the hell are you, Rose, to tell other people how to live their lives?'

'I don't. People simply run their problems by me; I listen, and I give them advice. '

'Well you give them crap advice! I mean, what the hell are you doing telling men to leave their wives you, you… marriage breaker!' I looked at Minty, she was rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

'Kathy, ' I said, feeling my heart rate rev, 'I did not tell your husband to leave. And from what I remember of his letter I think he'd already decided what he wanted to do. '

'But you helped him make up his mind. He's a spineless sort of bloke so if you hadn't written to him, putting it in black and white like that, then he would never have had the guts. '

'I'm not at all sure that that's true. And in any case if he's really as "spineless" as you say, then why do you want to stay married to him?'

'Because he's
my
husband—that's why! But now he's left me because of you—you, you… baggage!' By now my face was aflame.

'Kathy, if you speak to him like you're speaking to me I'm amazed he didn't leave you years ago!'

'You're a wicked,
wicked
woman!' she retorted.

'And now on line three we have Fran, ' Minty interjected as she made slashing gestures across her throat to the producer, Wesley, on the other side of the glass. 'Hello, Fran. '

'Hello, Minty. '

'You are a fucking marriage breaker Rose Costelloe… ' why didn't Wesley just get
rid
of her? '… and you're going to be SORRY for this!' Oh! Minty's face registered alarm at the threat but I just rolled my eyes and shrugged.

'Hello, Fran, ' I said with a large sip of hospitality Frascati. 'And what's your problem?'

'Well, ' she croaked, 'I've been dumped. '

'When?'

'Six months ago. '

'That's quite a while. '

'I know. But I just… can't get over it. '

'And how long were you with him?'

'Almost two years. He left me for our optician, ' she added plaintively. 'I never saw it coming. ' Minty was struggling not to laugh. 'I feel so depressed, ' she sniffed. 'Every evening I sit at home feeling bitter: I just can't… forget. '

'Fran, ' I said, 'this is easy to say, and hard to do, but you've
got
to try and move on. '

'But I can't because it's made me feel… worthless. I blame myself.'

'Fran, why do you blame yourself?' There was a stunned silence.

'I don't know really—I just do. '

'Fran, ' I said firmly, 'please
don't
. If you must blame anyone, then in these situations it's much more healthy to blame others. First of all blame your ex—that's a given—then blame the other woman of course. You may also wish to blame the government, Fate, bad karma or dodgy feng shui. If all else fails, blame global warming—but please
don't
blame yourself, okay?'

'Okay, ' she said with a reluctant giggle.

'Can I come in here?' said Minty. 'Fran, I had a terrible break-up three years ago. I was actually jilted—on my wedding day. '

'No!' said Fran, appalled.

'Yes. But do you know, it was the
best
thing that ever happened to me, because I met someone
so
much nicer, and I just know that you will too. '

'Well, I hope so, ' she sniffed. 'I've been so unhappy. '

'Fran, ' I said, 'that won't last. Heartbreak is a curable condition. And remember that your ex is only your ex because he's
wrong
for you otherwise you'd still be together, right? But it's not easy getting over someone, ' I went on, thinking of Ed with a vicious stab. 'So you need a strategy to help you recover. Now were there things about him you didn't like?'