Page 36 of Not Moving Out
‘You mean the tricky sitch?’
Freya giggled. ‘Fine. When we agreed to the “tricky sitch” I genuinely didn’t know if we could do it. Whether it would be too much, and we’d end up constantly arguing. I know it’s been a little uncomfortable at times, and it’s required some adjustments, and Ireallywish you hadn’t walked in on me naked, but I think we’ve done ourselves proud. We’ve been honest, open with each other, and I’m really thankful we’ve been so mature about all of this.’
‘Wow, well, thank you?’ I said, feeling an uncomfortable and yet familiar stab of guilt, that I was a lying piece of shit, creeping up and through my body.
‘With that, let me get the drinks and we can finalise the plans for the party,’ said Freya with a bright, warm smile, before she hopped up and off towards the bar.
Could I feel any worse? Freya was so proud of us for being honest, open and mature, and yet in the background I had been lying to her the whole time. If she knew about the sitcom and that despite refusing to see a marriage counsellor I was visiting a therapist on my own, she would go fucking ballistic. The only thing that Freya had done since our separation was take up cold water swimming. She was wholesome, perfect and mature, while I was literally the exact opposite. Watching her standing at the bar, looking so lovely in her work clothes, I had the sudden feeling that I didn’t deserve someone as incredible as Freya. Perhaps I never had.
She returned to the table and we made our plans for our annual summer party. We agreed upon a smaller than usual guest list, I ran through my ideas for the menu, and Freya chipped in with some ideas of her own, until eventually we had everything in place. When it came to party planning at least, Freya and I were still a well-oiled machine.
‘Do you think it’s going to be weird?’ said Freya when we were all done, and our glasses sat empty on the table.
‘Oh, it’s definitely going to be weird, but I think we can pull off weird.’
‘I mean,youcan definitely pull off weird,’ said Freya, standing up, and grabbing her bag.
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ I said, standing up, too.
‘Even though you know it’s definitely not a compliment, right?’
‘It’s all subjective,’ I said, walking out behind her. ‘Many of the best actors I’ve known over the years have been batshit crazy, and most of them are routinely on national television earning large amounts of money.’
‘I guess defining weird is a bit of a tricky sitch,’ said Freya, and I couldn’t help but laugh as we walked out of the pub towards home where we would be soon hosting our summer party.
Perhaps things were looking up and maybe the party would bring us back together? Was that what I wanted? Was that what Freya wanted? I was proud we had somehow managed to patchwork our lives together without really fucking anything up, but sat there at the back my mind, lurking in the background like a giant fucking storm cloud, were my lies that seemed to be just waiting for their moment to explode upon us, and fuck every single thing up.
Chapter Eighteen
Freya
Our first summer party was ten years ago, and it had started off small, and gradually over the years it had grown and become one of the most important dates in our calendar. We always held it at the end of June, as a way of marking the beginning of summer. Obviously this year was going to be a little bit different, but I was still excited about it. We had invited everyone important in our lives so the guest list was Mum, Marmalade, Lucy, Stuart, Barney plus one if he had a plus-one, Joe’s dad and his new girlfriend, Juliette, and lastly Dolly’s friend, Maya. I had thought about inviting the rest of Cold Water Club, and I had invited people from work in the past and Joe had invited Carl and other comedy friends, but we wanted to keep the numbers down this year. We thought smaller and more intimate was the way to go, considering everything that had happened.
‘Have you seen the bottle opener?’ I said to Joe, who was in the kitchen creating a charcuterie board of various cheeses, meats, olives, pickles and crackers.
‘Should be in the usual spot.’
‘Obviously it isn’t in the usual spot, Joe, because I looked in the usual spot and it wasn’t there. Hence why I am asking you where it is because you probably moved it.’
‘I haven’t touched it.’
‘You definitely haven’t touched it?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Okaaay,’ I said, knowing full well that he had definitely moved it. When it came to putting things in the wrong place, Joe had a lengthy rap sheet.
‘Need any help?’ said Dolly, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.
‘Oh, you look nice, love,’ I said, and she really did. She was in a long flowery dress with white trainers, she had curled her hair, done her make-up, and she looked beautiful.
‘Thanks,’ said Dolly.
‘You can help me find the bottle opener that your dad definitely hasn’t touched, even though we all know he moved it and just can’t remember—’
‘Actually, I used that,’ said Dolly. ‘Sorry, it’s in my room. I’ll get it.’
I immediately looked across at Joe, who gave me a smug, annoying smile.
