Being grown-up is not all you're led to believe it is. Not even slightly. It was too late now but I wished I'd read the small print.
I found somewhere for Kate and me to live in London.
Well, actually, Judy did.
It would have been impossible for me to find somewhere
383
in London while I was still in Dublin. Not unless I was willing to pay the national debt in agency fees.
Some friend of a friend of a friend of Judy's was going to work in Norway in July and needed his apartment looked after for nine months. I could af- ford the rent and the area wasn't too awful. Judy had seen the place and assured me that it had a roof, a floor and the full complement of walls. Then Judy lied through her teeth and told the friend of a friend of a friend that I was neat and clean and quiet and solvent. I'm not sure if she even mentioned Kate at all.
Andrew--that was his name--called me to put his mind at rest that I wasn't some kind of maniac who would douse his precious home with gasoline and set it alight before he'd even reached Terminal Two.
On the phone I was at my most prim and proper. I emphasized that I felt that cleanliness should be joined at the hip with godliness and that I was in favor of bringing back the death sentence for burglars and litterbugs.
"Well, perhaps a public flogging would be adequate. It might thrash some respect back into them," he suggested.
"Hmmmmm," I said noncommittally, because I wasn't certain whether he was joking or not.
Andrew sent me a contract and I sent him all kinds of references and bank details and, most importantly, some money. (Borrowed from Dad--would I ever grow up?)
Over the next ten days or so we had detailed phone conversations about what I was to do with his mail. And which of his plants needed to be told jokes.
He gave me all kinds of useful advice.
He warned me that the woman downstairs was crazy. "That's fine," I said unguardedly, "I'll probably like her."
"And don't go to the first Chinese restaurant," he warned. "They got caught with a German shepherd in their freezer. The one farther up the street is far better."
"Thanks," I said.
"Use up anything that's left in the cupboards or liquor cabinet," he offered.
"Thanks," I said enthusiastically.
"And if anything goes wrong," said his disembodied voice,
384
"then don't hesitate to call me. I'll leave you a number that you can contact me at."
"Thanks," I said again.
"I'm sure you'll be happy here," he promised, "it's a lovely airy apart- ment."
"Right," I said, swallowing. "Thanks." I was trying not to think of my own lovely apartment, which I had decorated and designed and made beautiful over the years. Some day I will have another one, I promised myself. When the time is right.
I felt even worse when I realized that "lovely, airy apartment" is usually what real estate agents say when they mean the windows are broken.
Oh dear.
"I'll be in London briefly in October," he said. "I hope we can meet up then."
"That would be lovely," I said.
Nice guy, I thought as I hung up the phone.
For a neo-Nazi.
I wondered what he looked like.
385
thirty-eight
Men.
Ah, yes, men. I suppose the issue was bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later.
Now look, I want to make one thing clear. I didn't like this Andrew guy. It's just that he sounded nice (apart from the public flogging sentiment). And I was officially a single woman again and there were some thought patterns that I just slipped back into. I couldn't help it! It was obviously genetic. Or hormonal.
Anyway, I was only curious. It didn't hurt to wonder about these things. I wasn't planning on acting on it.
And it didn't mean that I was going to jump into bed with the first man who gave me the eye.
I mean, if I was that desperate for a man, wouldn't I have stayed with James?
Although I realize that after the way I behaved with Adam there's a good chance you won't believe me.
Okay, fine, you don't have to believe me, but Adam was an exception.
Adam was special.
So you heard that Adam had a girlfriend and a baby. Well, what do you think of that? Pretty sensational, eh?
I suppose it made sense. There was always a hint that there was more to him than met the eye. But I was kind of expecting his Terrible Secret to be something like a drug habit, or a minor prison sentence, or something with a little bit of notoriety, even
386
glamour, to it. I certainly wasn't prepared for the news that Adam was a Family Man.
It was a shock. I'd go so far as to say that it was an unpleasant shock. But when Helen broke the news to me, I wasn't able to give it my full atten- tion and indignation. I was a bit distracted, what with being on my way out to catch a plane to London to end my marriage and all that. No, it was definitely not good news, but I was too preoccupied to look it in the face and think about how I actually felt.
And I tried not to think about it in the following weeks.
Well, I had an awful lot of things to sort out and I couldn't afford to waste time daydreaming. And Adam and I, such as it was, had been over even before I found out about his baby, so there was nothing to be gained by thinking about him. Adam was the past.
Anyway, to be perfectly frank I didn't like thinking about Adam. It didn't make me happy. It was painful. If he accidentally strayed into my head, he didn't last five seconds, a bit like an overboard sailor in the icy waters of the Antarctic. Alarms would go off and a couple of burly security guards would be sent to throw him out double fast.
If he even crossed my mind, I was lucky enough to have some kind of incredibly complicated, tedious legal document to immerse myself in.
And Helen was around a lot. She was studying for her exams and causing no end of disruption, complaining bitterly and asking questions and talking about having to have sex with all her lecturers if she hoped to pass. So she took my mind off Adam. She took my mind off everything except slowmo- tion fantasies of brutal murders.
But it was June and the weather had suddenly become beautiful and hot. And sometimes when I was alone with Kate in the backyard, half asleep, the sun on my face, feeling so relaxed, when maybe I should have been thinking of James, instead my mind would accidentally drift Adam-ward and I would remember how sweet he had been and how lovely he had made me feel.
I found somewhere for Kate and me to live in London.
Well, actually, Judy did.
It would have been impossible for me to find somewhere
383
in London while I was still in Dublin. Not unless I was willing to pay the national debt in agency fees.
Some friend of a friend of a friend of Judy's was going to work in Norway in July and needed his apartment looked after for nine months. I could af- ford the rent and the area wasn't too awful. Judy had seen the place and assured me that it had a roof, a floor and the full complement of walls. Then Judy lied through her teeth and told the friend of a friend of a friend that I was neat and clean and quiet and solvent. I'm not sure if she even mentioned Kate at all.
Andrew--that was his name--called me to put his mind at rest that I wasn't some kind of maniac who would douse his precious home with gasoline and set it alight before he'd even reached Terminal Two.
On the phone I was at my most prim and proper. I emphasized that I felt that cleanliness should be joined at the hip with godliness and that I was in favor of bringing back the death sentence for burglars and litterbugs.
"Well, perhaps a public flogging would be adequate. It might thrash some respect back into them," he suggested.
"Hmmmmm," I said noncommittally, because I wasn't certain whether he was joking or not.
Andrew sent me a contract and I sent him all kinds of references and bank details and, most importantly, some money. (Borrowed from Dad--would I ever grow up?)
Over the next ten days or so we had detailed phone conversations about what I was to do with his mail. And which of his plants needed to be told jokes.
He gave me all kinds of useful advice.
He warned me that the woman downstairs was crazy. "That's fine," I said unguardedly, "I'll probably like her."
"And don't go to the first Chinese restaurant," he warned. "They got caught with a German shepherd in their freezer. The one farther up the street is far better."
"Thanks," I said.
"Use up anything that's left in the cupboards or liquor cabinet," he offered.
"Thanks," I said enthusiastically.
"And if anything goes wrong," said his disembodied voice,
384
"then don't hesitate to call me. I'll leave you a number that you can contact me at."
"Thanks," I said again.
"I'm sure you'll be happy here," he promised, "it's a lovely airy apart- ment."
"Right," I said, swallowing. "Thanks." I was trying not to think of my own lovely apartment, which I had decorated and designed and made beautiful over the years. Some day I will have another one, I promised myself. When the time is right.
I felt even worse when I realized that "lovely, airy apartment" is usually what real estate agents say when they mean the windows are broken.
Oh dear.
"I'll be in London briefly in October," he said. "I hope we can meet up then."
"That would be lovely," I said.
Nice guy, I thought as I hung up the phone.
For a neo-Nazi.
I wondered what he looked like.
385
thirty-eight
Men.
Ah, yes, men. I suppose the issue was bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later.
Now look, I want to make one thing clear. I didn't like this Andrew guy. It's just that he sounded nice (apart from the public flogging sentiment). And I was officially a single woman again and there were some thought patterns that I just slipped back into. I couldn't help it! It was obviously genetic. Or hormonal.
Anyway, I was only curious. It didn't hurt to wonder about these things. I wasn't planning on acting on it.
And it didn't mean that I was going to jump into bed with the first man who gave me the eye.
I mean, if I was that desperate for a man, wouldn't I have stayed with James?
Although I realize that after the way I behaved with Adam there's a good chance you won't believe me.
Okay, fine, you don't have to believe me, but Adam was an exception.
Adam was special.
So you heard that Adam had a girlfriend and a baby. Well, what do you think of that? Pretty sensational, eh?
I suppose it made sense. There was always a hint that there was more to him than met the eye. But I was kind of expecting his Terrible Secret to be something like a drug habit, or a minor prison sentence, or something with a little bit of notoriety, even
386
glamour, to it. I certainly wasn't prepared for the news that Adam was a Family Man.
It was a shock. I'd go so far as to say that it was an unpleasant shock. But when Helen broke the news to me, I wasn't able to give it my full atten- tion and indignation. I was a bit distracted, what with being on my way out to catch a plane to London to end my marriage and all that. No, it was definitely not good news, but I was too preoccupied to look it in the face and think about how I actually felt.
And I tried not to think about it in the following weeks.
Well, I had an awful lot of things to sort out and I couldn't afford to waste time daydreaming. And Adam and I, such as it was, had been over even before I found out about his baby, so there was nothing to be gained by thinking about him. Adam was the past.
Anyway, to be perfectly frank I didn't like thinking about Adam. It didn't make me happy. It was painful. If he accidentally strayed into my head, he didn't last five seconds, a bit like an overboard sailor in the icy waters of the Antarctic. Alarms would go off and a couple of burly security guards would be sent to throw him out double fast.
If he even crossed my mind, I was lucky enough to have some kind of incredibly complicated, tedious legal document to immerse myself in.
And Helen was around a lot. She was studying for her exams and causing no end of disruption, complaining bitterly and asking questions and talking about having to have sex with all her lecturers if she hoped to pass. So she took my mind off Adam. She took my mind off everything except slowmo- tion fantasies of brutal murders.
But it was June and the weather had suddenly become beautiful and hot. And sometimes when I was alone with Kate in the backyard, half asleep, the sun on my face, feeling so relaxed, when maybe I should have been thinking of James, instead my mind would accidentally drift Adam-ward and I would remember how sweet he had been and how lovely he had made me feel.
