‘We’re just friends,’ I said, feeling extremely uncomfortable.
‘So now we’re supposed to believe that this guy is just her friend?’ Adam said to Jamie.
‘Who
gives
a shit? Why do you care so much?’ Jamie asked.
‘He cares because Blake is his best friend, and Adam is loyal, and poor Blake doesn’t know what he did wrong—’ Mary began, but I interrupted her. I didn’t need to hear any more. I couldn’t or I would break all of the Silchester rules in less than a minute.
‘Yeah, poor Blake,’ I interrupted, and stood up. I heard the shake in my voice. Silchesters didn’t cry and they certainly didn’t get angry, but I was close to blowing it. ‘Poor little Blake, living such a sorry little life travelling the world, while here’s me livin’ it up with my fabulous job, in my fabulous mysterious apartment, with my secret lover.’ I grabbed my bag. Life followed my lead and stood. ‘And you’re right, Adam, he’s not just my friend. He’s a lot more than that because a friend is what you were supposed to be, and he’s been there for me a lot more than you ever have.’
And then I left. Early. When I got outside I kept walking until I was too far away for them to see or hear me. Then when I found the right place, in a doorway, away from everyone, I took out a tissue from my pocket and thought about breaking all the rules. I waited, and waited, knowing that there must be tears,
years’
worth of them all built up and ready to fall. But nothing came so I crumpled the tissue and stuffed it back in my pocket. Not now, not over them; my tears had pride.
Life appeared beside me with a concerned look on his face. When he saw that I was all right he said, ‘Okay, maybe you’re right.’
‘He hates me.’
‘No.’ He looked confused. ‘Jamie and David are totally okay with each other after the whole Lisa thing.’ He said it in such a deliberate mock-gossip way that it made me smile. ‘Though technically I don’t know if that’s true,’ he added, ‘but they are the least of my worries. Are you cold?’
I shivered as the night breeze picked up.
‘Come on,’ Life said gently, then he took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, keeping his arm draped protectively around me, and under the orange glow of the streetlights, we walked home together.
‘What do you want to do today?’ I asked.
We were enjoying a lazy morning on the couch; the Sunday papers were strewn around the place, used and abused, as we’d searched for our favourite sections and discarded the remainder and then fell in and out of silence as we commented on, laughed at and shared stories we were reading. I was perfectly content in his company and it seemed he was in mine too. My clothes curtains were open to allow the sun to shine through and the windows were wide open, bringing in the fresh air and the sound of Sunday silence. The flat smelled of pancakes and maple syrup, which he’d made, and fresh coffee, which stood on the counter, still piping. Mr Pan had settled in, on and all around Life’s shoe, looking like he was the cat who got the cream, which ironically he had, along with fresh blueberries which I had planted and grown myself in the organic roof garden I’d cultivated since Life had come into my world. I’d freshly plucked them that morning while wearing a straw sunhat wrapped with a white ribbon and a white see-through linen dress that blew in a hypnotic way in the gentle breeze on the rooftop to the delight of the male neighbours, who were chilled out on deckchairs, oiled up with sun lotion like cars in a showroom.
Okay, I lied.
Life bought the blueberries. We don’t have a rooftop garden. I saw the dress in a magazine and miraculously, I had become a blonde in that daydream.
‘Today,’ I continued, closing my eyes, ‘I just want to stay in bed.’
‘You should call your mother.’
They swiftly opened. ‘Why?’
‘Because she’s trying to plan a wedding and you’re not helping.’
‘It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard; they’re already married, it’s just an excuse to give her something to do. She needs to take up pottery. Besides, neither are Riley or Philip helping. And I can’t meet her today because the carpet people are coming. They’ll probably be late. Those kinds of people are always late. I think I’ll cancel them.’ I reached for my phone.
‘You will not. I found a grey hair on my sock today and I know it wasn’t from a head and I know it wasn’t mine.’
I put the phone back down.
‘And you should call Jamie back.’
‘Why?’
‘When has he ever called you before?’
‘Never.’
‘So it must be important.’
‘Or he was drunk and he hit against his phone and dialled my number by mistake.’
Life looked displeased.
‘So he was going to say sorry for what happened last night at dinner, and he doesn’t need to apologise, he didn’t do anything wrong. He was on my side.’
‘So call him back and tell him that.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it with anyone.’
‘Fine, you just sweep more crap under the rug, because that rug’s going to get so bumpy it’ll trip you up.’
‘You think any of these phone calls are more important than spending time with my
life
?’ I thought I’d win him on that.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Lucy, you are in danger of going in entirely the wrong direction. I didn’t want you to become a selfish woman who sits around all day talking about herself with her life. You need to find a balance. Take care of you but take care of the people who care about you too.’
‘But it’s hard,’ I whinged, covering my head with a pillow.
‘And that’s Life. Why did I want to meet you?’
‘Because I was ignoring you.’ I spoke the words I was trained to speak. ‘Because I wasn’t dealing with my life.’
‘And now what are you doing?’
‘Dealing with my life. Spending every little second with my life, so much so that I can barely pee on my own.’
‘You’d be able to pee in private if you fixed the light bulb in the bathroom.’
‘It’s so much hassle,’ I sighed.
‘How is it?’
‘Firstly, I can’t reach it.’
‘Get a stepladder.’
‘I don’t have one.’
‘So stand on the toilet.’
‘It’s a cheap plastic cover and I’ll fall through.’
‘So stand on the edge of the bath.’
‘It’s dangerous.’
‘Right.’ Life stood up. ‘Stand up.’
I groaned.
‘Stand up,’ he repeated.
I pulled myself up like a grumpy teen.
‘Now go across to your neighbour and ask her if you can have a loan of a stepladder.’
I collapsed back on the couch again.
‘Do it,’ he said sternly.
I stood up again, huffily, and made my way to the door. I went across to Claire’s apartment and knocked and returned moments later with a stepladder.
‘See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’
‘We talked about the weather, so yes, it was bad. I hate mindless talk.’
He snorted. ‘Now put the ladder in the bathroom.’
I did as I was told.
‘Now climb up.’
I followed his instructions.
‘Now unscrew the light bulb.’
He shone the torch up so that I could see what I was doing. I unscrewed the old bulb, whimpering like a child who’d been forced to eat vegetables. It finally came loose so I stopped my complaining to concentrate. I handed him the old bulb.
‘Act like I’m not here.’
I tutted, then sang, ‘I hate my life, I hate my life,’ over and over while climbing back down the stepladder, put the bulb in the sink, threw him a nasty look, took the new bulb out of the box, climbed back up the ladder and began to screw it in. Then it was in. I climbed back down the ladder, flicked the switch and the room was flooded with light.
‘Yay, me!’ I said, lifting my hand to high-five Life.
He looked at me as if I was the saddest specimen he had ever seen.
‘I’m not high-fiving you for changing a light bulb.’
I lowered my hand, cringing slightly, then perked up. ‘What now, more pancakes?’
‘Now that the room is lit up, you could do with giving this place a good clean.’
‘Nooo,’ I groaned. ‘You see, that’s why I don’t do things, it leads to having to do
other
things.’ I folded up the stepladder and left it in the hallway beneath the coat rack, beside the mucky boots from the summer festival, the last festival I went to with Blake, when I’d been informed I’d flashed Iggy Pop from my perch on Blake’s shoulders.
‘You’re not going to leave that there.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s going to gather dust and stay there for the next twenty years just like those boots covered in muck. Give it back to Claire.’
I did what I was told and dragged it back across the hall. ‘Come on.’ I took him by the hand. ‘Let’s snuggle on the couch again.’
‘No.’ He let go of me and laughed. ‘I’m not lying around here all day, I’m going to take the rest of the day off.’
‘What do you mean? Where are you going?’
He smiled. ‘Even I need a rest.’
‘But where will you go? Where do you live?’ I looked up towards the sky and jerked my head. ‘Is it up there?’
‘The next floor?’
‘No! The … you know.’ I jerked my head again.
‘The sky?’ He opened his mouth wider than I’ve ever seen a person open it and he laughed. ‘Ah Lucy, you really make me laugh.’
I laughed along with him as if I’d made a joke, though I hadn’t at all.
‘I can give you some homework before I leave, if you want, just so you don’t miss me.’
I scrunched up my nose. He made for the door.
‘Okay, fine, sit back down.’ I patted the sofa. All of a sudden I just didn’t want to be alone.
‘What do you dream about, Lucy?’
‘Cool, I love dream conversations.’ I got cosy. ‘Last night was a sex-with-the-cute-guy-on-the-train dream.’
‘I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.’
‘We didn’t do it
on
the train.’
‘No, I meant because he’s so young and you’re going to be thirty any minute now,’ he teased. ‘Anyway, that’s not what I meant. I mean, what do you dream about as in your hopes and ambitions?’
‘Oh,’ I said, bored. I thought about it. Then, ‘I don’t get the question.’
He sighed and spoke to me as if I was a child. ‘What things would you really, really like to do if you could? Something you’d like to accomplish, like a dream job for example.’
I thought about it. ‘An
X Factor
judge so I can throw stuff at the contestants if they’re crap. Or pull a trapdoor and they go flying down into a bath of beans or something, that’d be cool. And I’d win the fashion contest every week, Cheryl and Dannii would be like, “Oh, Lucy, where did you get your dress?” and I’d be like, “Oh, this? It’s just a little something I found on my curtain pole.” And Simon would be like, “Hey, you two girls should take some tips from Lucy, she’s—”’
‘Okay, okay, okay,’ Life said, putting his fingers to his temples and lightly massaging his head. ‘Any other
better
dreams?’
I thought about it some more, feeling under pressure. ‘I’d really, really like to win the lottery so that I never have to work again and can buy all the stuff I want.’
‘That’s not a real dream,’ he said.
‘Why not? It happens to people. That woman in Limerick? She won thirty million and now lives on a desert island, or something.’
‘So your dream is to live on a desert island.’
‘No.’ I waved my hand dismissively. ‘That’d be boring and I hate coconut. I’d take the money though.’
‘That’s a lazy dream, Lucy. If you have a dream, you want to at least be able to
try
to achieve it in some way. Something that is seemingly beyond your grasp but that you know that with a bit of hard work you could possibly achieve. Walking to your local newsagent to buy a lottery ticket is not inspiring. Dreams should make you think,
If I had the guts to do it and I didn’t care what anybody thought, this is what I’d really do
.’ He looked at me hopefully, expectantly.
‘I’m a normal person, what do you want me to say? I really want to see the Sistine Chapel? I don’t give a crap about a painting that I have to dislocate my neck to see. That is not a dream to me, that is a
requirement
whilst on holiday in Rome, which by the way I already carried out when Blake brought me there on our very first weekend away.’ I was aware that I was standing up and raising my voice but I couldn’t help it, I felt strongly that this was a ridiculous issue he had raised. ‘Or what else do people dream about? Jumping out of airplanes? I’ve done it, even did an instructor’s course so I could pull you out of an airplane any day of the week if I wanted. See the Great Pyramids? Done it. On my twenty-fifth birthday with Blake. It was hot and they are as big and majestic as you think they are but would I ever go again? No, a weird man tried to get me in his car when Blake went to the toilet in the nearby McDonald’s. Swim with dolphins? Did it. Would I do it again? No. Nobody tells you they stink up close. Bungee jump? Did it, when Blake and I were in Sydney. I even did shark-cage diving in Capetown, not to mention a hot-air balloon trip with Blake for Valentine’s Day one year. I’ve done most things that people dream about and they weren’t even my dreams. They were just things that I did. What were they talking about in the paper today?’ I picked up one of the pages I’d been reading and stabbed an article. ‘A seventy-year-old wants to go up in one of those space aeroplanes so that he can see the earth from space. Well, I’m living on earth right now and it’s pretty shitty from here, why would I want to see it from another angle? What could that possibly
do
for me? Those dreams are a waste of time, and that was the most ridiculous question you’ve ever asked me. I used to do stuff all the time, so how dare you make me feel like I’m nothing without a dream. Is it not enough that my life is insufficient enough for you that my dreams have to be too?’
I took a deep breath after my rant.
‘Okay.’ He stood up and grabbed his coat. ‘It was a stupid question.’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Then why did you ask it?’
‘Lucy, if you’re not interested in this conversation then we won’t have it.’
‘I’m not interested, but I want to know why you asked it,’ I said defensively.
‘You’re right, you’ve clearly lived your life to the fullest and there’s nothing left to do and now it’s time for you to stop. You might as well die.’
I gasped.
‘I’m not saying you’re going to die, Lucy,’ he said, frustrated with me. ‘Not now, anyway. You will eventually.’
I gasped again.
‘We all are.’
‘Oh. Yes.’
He opened the door and looked back at me. ‘The reason I asked you, is because regardless of what you say, or how much you lie, you are not happy with where you are right now, and when I ask you about what you want, anything in the whole entire world, no holds barred, you say
winning money and buying stuff
.’ He spoke sharply and I was embarrassed.
‘I still think most people would say the lottery.’
He threw me a look and made for the door again.
‘You’re angry with me. I don’t understand why you’re angry with me, just because you don’t like my dream. I mean, this is ridiculous.’
He spoke gently which unnerved me more. ‘I’m angry because not only are you not happy where you are, but you can’t even think of where you’d rather be. Which I think is …’ He searched for the word. ‘Sad. No wonder you’re stuck in a rut.’
I thought about it some more, thought about my dreams, my wishes, my ambitions, where I wanted to be that would make me feel better than being here. I couldn’t come up with anything.
‘Thought so,’ he finally said. ‘See you tomorrow.’ He took his coat and rucksack and left the apartment, which was the worst possible end to the most beautiful beginning of a day.
His comments niggled at me. They always did, it was as though he spoke in a certain tone that only managed to speak to the brain like a whistle for a dog inaudible to the human ear. I tried to think about my dreams, where I wanted to be, what I really wanted but I think to know what you want, you have to know what you don’t want and all I could figure out was that I really wished Life hadn’t contacted me so I could have continued on the path I was going on. Life had complicated things, Life had tried to make things move on when I was perfectly content. He called it a rut, but he’d moved me from that place already, by merely pointing out that I was there, and I would never be able to go back. I liked my rut, I missed my rut, I would mourn my rut forever.