Page 53 of Fly Me to Moongate Manor
‘Don’t be bitter, darling, you’re not a grapefruit,’ his mother scolded.
‘Mum, I don’t know why Anika is calling you or Charlie, but I really don’t want you talking to them anymore. And the reason I don’t take your calls is because I know you still talk to people and news will get around about me.’
‘Simon,’ his mother protested.
‘If you can’t put your own son ahead of the people who fucked me over, then you and I can’t speak,’ he said. ‘So you decide if you want to be a part of my life or theirs. Until then, I have work to do.’
Simon ended the call and turned off his phone. He stared down the garden to the view of the sea.
‘Morning!’ he heard, and turned to see Amanda walking towards him. She was wearing a pale turquoise kimono with a dress or a nightgown underneath, and had a mug in hand.
He was extremely pleased to see her after such an awful phone call.
‘Hello,’ he said and he looked in her mug. ‘Coffee?’
‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘How long have you been up?’
‘Not long but my mother rang.’ He sighed.
‘Oh, is that not good?’
Amanda sat next to him on the wall.
‘She finds it hard to put loyalty above her own self-importance,’ he said. ‘She isn’t deliberately mean but she’s just a bit… I don’t know.’ He struggled to find the word.
‘Thoughtless?’ Amanda asked and he nodded.
‘Yes, that’s it.’
‘I’m sorry, that’s a shitty way to start a morning as beautiful as this.’
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Amanda crossed her legs.
He glanced down and then back to the view. Amanda was the sort of girl he used to go out with at school and at university. Pretty, sensible, dependable and kind. Why did he get so swept up with Anika? Besides her beauty there was nothing else he admired about her and he realised, sitting next to Amanda in comfortable silence, that he had been kidding himself.
‘I’ve realised I don’t like myself very much,’ he said.
He was surprised he’d said it aloud but on a morning as still and as beautiful as this, he felt it would be impossible to lie. There are times when the surroundings ask you to tell the truth about yourself; your fears and your dreams. Like when you’re sitting by a campfire at night or watching a particularly stunning sunrise.
‘Why?’ Amanda asked.
He liked that she didn’t try and dissuade him from his opinion on himself. No false compliments or pandering accolades. Just a simple question: why?
‘Because I think I went out with my fiancée because I liked that people looked at me and her together. She was a model and beautiful… externally,’ he added.
‘Ouch, that’s a terrible thing to realise,’ Amanda said. ‘Wow, you really admitted that about yourself. You went there.’
Simon laughed. ‘I know it’s a terrible thing to admit but I admitted it.’
‘So why did she go out with you?’ Amanda asked.
Simon looked at her, pretending to be insulted.
‘Are you saying I’m not handsome enough to be a model?’ He shook his head.
‘No, you’re not.’ Amanda laughed. ‘But neither am I, so we’re even.’
