yourself. Lara’s invited me to stay for the weekend.”
“ I’ll be leaving after lunch on Sunday.” He lifts his case from the bed, and reaches to embrace me. When he pulls back, there’s a soft smile on his face. “Try not to get into any trouble.”
“ How much trouble can I get into over one weekend?”
“ Quite a lot.” He looks wistful. For a moment, I wonder if he really trusts me. Since we’ve been married, I’ve done nothing to cause either of us any trouble. I left that girl behind years ago, although sometimes—especially recently—I miss her. Simon simply smiles and places a quick peck on my cheek. When I stand at the door and watch him climb into his sports car, I wonder why my stomach is churning. Maybe I’ll miss him more than I realise.
After Simon has left, I take a quick shower and pull on some clothes. A few minutes after eight, I leave the house, heading for the Tube station at the end of our road. The platform is full of people, some dressed like me for a casual night out, others still in their work gear, heading home after a long day. It’s a microcosm of the bigger city: people and nationalities of every description, all pushed together into each other’s personal space.
The George and Dragon stands on the edge of a leafy green square, the Victorian edifice decaying and crumbled. The painted pub sign—depicting the moment when George finally goes in for the kill—is swaying softly in the evening breeze. As soon as I push open the heavy wooden door, I’m hit by the warm, musty air and the noise of a dozen conversations. Scanning the room, I seek out Lara, trying not to look too out of place.
The George is a spit-and-sawdust kind of pub. It hasn ’t succumbed to the gentrification of the surrounding area, although the clientele is an interesting mix of old timers and trendy young things. The older ones sit in the public bar, studiously avoiding the lounge, which is where I’m standing now, looking at the stage in the corner that’s already set up for the band. A drum kit, guitars and microphone are all patiently waiting for their masters to return.
It ’s been so long since I’ve been somewhere like this. Giving up gritty pubs has been a side effect of my marriage—as much as making sure I always shave my legs and never pass wind when Simon’s around. Yet I find that I’ve missed it. A rush of nervous anticipation fills my veins as I push through the crowds of drinkers.
I spot them at a table in the far corner . Alex is sitting next to Lara, his tattooed arm casually slung across the back of her chair, his other hand wrapped around a pint glass full of water. I have a soft spot for Alex. He and Lara welcomed me into their lives at a time when I was at my lowest ebb. Back then, they’d talk with me into the night, before gently covering me with a soft cotton blanket when I cried myself to sleep. They’re good people, and I’m a bit annoyed at myself that I’ve neglected them. I lived with them for over a year after I managed to escape a squat. It was probably the best year of my life.
Until I met Simon , I remind myself.
It ’s Alex who sees me first. A huge grin splits his cheeky face and he stands up and walks toward me, enveloping me in a bear hug as soon as we are within touching distance. I cuddle him back, feeling a mixture of relief and exhilaration. It really has been too long.
“ Where’ve you been, doll face? I’ve missed you,” he says.
“ I’ve missed you too.” I’m almost laughing. I’d forgotten just how cockney Alex sounds. He’s a real geezer, and he likes to play on it as much as possible. “I’m sorry, I feel really bad I haven’t seen you in ages.”
I can feel him shrug. “No worries, you’ve been busy. Different worlds. I get it.”
When I pull back I feel regretful, because he’s right in so many ways. Simon wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this. But I feel at home; excited, nervy and young.
And I like
“ I’ll be leaving after lunch on Sunday.” He lifts his case from the bed, and reaches to embrace me. When he pulls back, there’s a soft smile on his face. “Try not to get into any trouble.”
“ How much trouble can I get into over one weekend?”
“ Quite a lot.” He looks wistful. For a moment, I wonder if he really trusts me. Since we’ve been married, I’ve done nothing to cause either of us any trouble. I left that girl behind years ago, although sometimes—especially recently—I miss her. Simon simply smiles and places a quick peck on my cheek. When I stand at the door and watch him climb into his sports car, I wonder why my stomach is churning. Maybe I’ll miss him more than I realise.
After Simon has left, I take a quick shower and pull on some clothes. A few minutes after eight, I leave the house, heading for the Tube station at the end of our road. The platform is full of people, some dressed like me for a casual night out, others still in their work gear, heading home after a long day. It’s a microcosm of the bigger city: people and nationalities of every description, all pushed together into each other’s personal space.
The George and Dragon stands on the edge of a leafy green square, the Victorian edifice decaying and crumbled. The painted pub sign—depicting the moment when George finally goes in for the kill—is swaying softly in the evening breeze. As soon as I push open the heavy wooden door, I’m hit by the warm, musty air and the noise of a dozen conversations. Scanning the room, I seek out Lara, trying not to look too out of place.
The George is a spit-and-sawdust kind of pub. It hasn ’t succumbed to the gentrification of the surrounding area, although the clientele is an interesting mix of old timers and trendy young things. The older ones sit in the public bar, studiously avoiding the lounge, which is where I’m standing now, looking at the stage in the corner that’s already set up for the band. A drum kit, guitars and microphone are all patiently waiting for their masters to return.
It ’s been so long since I’ve been somewhere like this. Giving up gritty pubs has been a side effect of my marriage—as much as making sure I always shave my legs and never pass wind when Simon’s around. Yet I find that I’ve missed it. A rush of nervous anticipation fills my veins as I push through the crowds of drinkers.
I spot them at a table in the far corner . Alex is sitting next to Lara, his tattooed arm casually slung across the back of her chair, his other hand wrapped around a pint glass full of water. I have a soft spot for Alex. He and Lara welcomed me into their lives at a time when I was at my lowest ebb. Back then, they’d talk with me into the night, before gently covering me with a soft cotton blanket when I cried myself to sleep. They’re good people, and I’m a bit annoyed at myself that I’ve neglected them. I lived with them for over a year after I managed to escape a squat. It was probably the best year of my life.
Until I met Simon , I remind myself.
It ’s Alex who sees me first. A huge grin splits his cheeky face and he stands up and walks toward me, enveloping me in a bear hug as soon as we are within touching distance. I cuddle him back, feeling a mixture of relief and exhilaration. It really has been too long.
“ Where’ve you been, doll face? I’ve missed you,” he says.
“ I’ve missed you too.” I’m almost laughing. I’d forgotten just how cockney Alex sounds. He’s a real geezer, and he likes to play on it as much as possible. “I’m sorry, I feel really bad I haven’t seen you in ages.”
I can feel him shrug. “No worries, you’ve been busy. Different worlds. I get it.”
When I pull back I feel regretful, because he’s right in so many ways. Simon wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this. But I feel at home; excited, nervy and young.
And I like
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