• [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

    said. "Was "St John" being, rather than the trust-funded teenage layabout he appears, actually a
    top ear, nose and throat surgeon attempting to extract it with his tongue?"
    "No," I said, carefully and thoughtfully. "That is not what it was either."
    "Then were you hyperventilating? Was "St John" - having garnered the rudiments of first aid into
    his marijuanaaddled brain, perhaps from a poster on the wall of the many drug rehab units he has
    visited in his short and otherwise uneventful life - trying to administer the kiss of life? Or did
    he simply mistake you for a choice morsel of "skunk" and find himself unable to . . ."
    I started to laugh. Then he started laughing too, then we started kissing and one thing led to
    another and afterwards we fell asleep in each other's arms.
    In the morning, woke up all rosy thinking everything was OK but then looked around and saw him
    already dressed, and knew was not anywhere near OK.
    "I can explain," I said, dramatically sitting bolt upright. For a moment we looked at each other
    and started laughing. But then he turned serious.
    "Go on, then."
    "It was Rebecca," I said. "St John told me Rebecca told him that I told her I fancied him and..."
    "And you believed this bewildering catalogue of Chinese whispers?"
    "And that you told her we were..."
    "Yes?"
    "Splitting up," I said.
    Mark sat down and started rubbing his fingers very slowly across his forehead.
    "Did you?" I whispered. "Did you say that to Rebecca?"
    "No," he said eventually. "I didn't say that to Rebecca, but. . ."
    I daren't look at him.
    "But maybe we..." he began.
    The room started to go blotchy. Hate this about dating.
    One minute you're closer to someone than anyone in the whole world, next minute they only need to
    say the words "time apart', "serious talk" or "maybe you..." and you're never going to see them
    again and will have to spend the next six months having imaginary conversations in which they beg
    to come back, and bursting into tears at the sight of their toothbrush.
    "Do you want to split up ... ?"
    There was a knock at the door. Was Rebecca radiant in dusky pink cashmere. "Last call for
    breakfast, folks!" she cooed and didn't go.
    Ended up breakfasting with mad unwashed hair, while Rebecca swung her shiny mane and served
    kedgeree.
    On the way home we drove in silence while I struggled not to show how I felt or say anything wet.
    Know from experience how awful it is trying to persuade someone you shouldn't split up when they
    have already made up their mind, and then you think back over what you said. And feel such an
    idiot.
    "Don't do this!" I wanted to yell when we stopped outside my house. "She's trying to pinch you and
    it's all a plot. I didn't kiss St John. I love you..."
    "Well, bye then," I said dignifiedly, and forced myself to get out of the car.
    "Bye," he muttered, not looking at me.
    Watched him turn the car round really fast and screechily. As he drove off, I saw him angrily
    brush his cheek as if he was wiping something away.
    4 Persuasion
    Monday 24 February
    15st (combined weight of self and unhappiness), alcohol units 1 - i.e. me, cigarettes 200,000,
    calories 8,477 (not counting chocolate), theories as to what's going on 447, no. of times changed
    mind about what to do 448.
    3 a.m. Don't know what I would have done without the girls yesterday. Called them instantly after
    Mark drove off, and they were round within fifteen minutes, never once saying 'I told you so.'
    When Shazzer bustled in with armfuls of bottles and carrier bags, barking, "Has he rung?" was like
    being in ER when Dr Greene arrives.
    "No," said Jude, popping a cigarette in my mouth as if it were a thermometer.
    "Only a matter of time," said Shaz brightly, unpacking a bottle of Chardonnay, three pizzas, two
    tubs of HagenDaaz Pralines and Cream and a packet of fun-sized Twixes.
    "Yup," said Jude, putting the Pride and Prejudice tape on top of the video, together with Through
    Love and Loss to Sel Esteem, The rive Stages of Dating Workbook, and How to Heal the Hurt by
    Hating. "He'll be back."
    "Do you think I should call him." I said.
    "No!" yelled Shaz.
    "Have you gone out of your mind?" bellowed Jude. "He's being a Martian rubber band. The last thing
    you must do is call him."
    "I know," I said huffily. I mean surely she didn't think I was that badly read.
    "You let him go back to his cave and feel his attraction, and you move back from Exclusivity to
    Uncertainty." "But what if he . . . ?"
    "You'd better unplug it, Shaz," sighed Jude. "Otherwise she'll spend the whole night waiting for
    him to ring instead of working on her self-esteem."
    "Noooo!" I cried, feeling like they were going to cut my ear off.
    "Anyway," said Shaz brightly, pulling the phone out of the wall with a click, "it'll do him good."
    Two hours later was feeling quite confused.
    "'The more a man likes a woman the more he will avoid getting involved'" said Jude triumphantly,
    reading from Mars and Venus on a Date.
    "Sounds like masculine logic to me" said Shaz.
    "So chucking me could actually be a sign that he's really serious about the relationship?" I said
    excitedly.
    "Wait, wait." Jude was staring hard at Emotional Intelligence. "Was his wife unfaithful to him?"
    "Yes," I mumbled through a mouthful of Twix. "A week after their wedding. With Daniel."
    "Hmmm. You see it sounds to me that he was also having an Emotional Hijacking, probably because of
    an earlier emotional 'bruise' that you have inadvertently hit. Of course! Of course! That's it!
    That's why he overreacted to you snogging the boy. So don't worry, once the bruise has stopped
    sending his whole nervous system into disarray he'll realize his mistake."
    "And realize he ought to go out with someone else because he likes you so much!" said Sharon,
    merrily lighting up a Silk Cut.
    "Shut up, Shaz," hissed Jude. "Shut up." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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