Page 51 of Not Moving Out
‘Okay.’
‘Good.’
‘Right then.’
We continued eating, but the air between us that had started out so smoothly was suddenly rattled with some minor turbulence that didn’t exactly toss us around the cabin and cause some of the overhead baggage to begin moving, but we definitely fastened our seat belts a little tighter.
‘There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,’ said Freya, after a minute of silent eating.
‘Okaaay. Sounds serious.’
‘It’s not serious, it’s just something and I’m telling you because I want to be honest with you, Joe, and I don’t know, let me have some wine first,’ said Freya, taking a long sip of her wine. I was suddenly nervous about what she had to say. What else had I forgotten to do? Separate our washing? Water the indoor plants? Dust? I took a sip of my wine, too. We both put our glasses down at the same time. ‘I went out for a drink with work the other day and Sam—’
‘Sam your boss? Partner Sam?’
‘Yes. He’s divorced, and knew I was getting separated, and wanted to offer his support and friendship.’
I bet he fucking did, I thought.I can’t believe he barely waited for the paint to dry on our marriage, before he started putting his socks in my sock drawer. I bet he’s the sort of person who pairs them together then rolls them up in neat fucking balls like what’s her name again? The Japanese lady who had a show on television about how to organise your life, and tidying up so everything has its place. Oh, yes, Marie fucking Kondo. I imagine Sam Becket’s whole life has the Marie Kondo seal of approval.
‘Right,’ I said, feeling pangs of jealousy begin to stretch throughout my body, creeping up my throat, and entering my mouth, desperate to escape and say something. ‘That was nice of him.’
Freya gave me a look, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to say next. ‘And,’ she added, ‘while we were having a drink, he did mention that maybe, one day in the future, when I was ready, we might go on a date.’
And there it fucking was. Of course, the bastard boss was just waiting for me to get out of the way before he moved in. The feelings of jealousy were now more like full-scale road rage and I wanted to get out of the car and shout expletives at someone for not using their indicator properly, but I couldn’t be that man. I couldn’t show her how I really felt because we were separated, and she had every right to go for drinks with other men, and there was nothing I could do about it. She could spend the rest of her days organising drawers neatly with Sam Becket, and none of it was my business.
‘And what did you say?’ I said, trying to keep the voices in my head quiet.
Keep everything inside and push it all down. Put it all in boxes and store it far away so you don’t have to think about it. Sam Becket might be the fucking GOAT at organising his life and underwear drawers, but he has nothing on me when it comes to compartmentalising feelings.
‘That I wasn’t ready for anything like that, but I… the thing is, Joe, it made me realise that this sort of thing is going to happen to me, and to you, too, and I want to be honest with you. After what happened at the party, I realised that if we’re going to work, if we’re going to separate amicably and still be friends, then we have to be open with each other. Nothing is happening with Sam right now, but it might in the future. That’s all I wanted to say.’
I looked across the table at Freya and I didn’t know what to say. Obviously the thing I should have told her about was the sitcom, but I couldn’t. Something was still holding me back, and instead I smiled, thanked her for being so honest, filled up our wine glasses, and kept everything inside because letting it all out felt like opening the largest can of fucking worms in the world.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Freya
I was lying in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, and all I could think about was how Joe had taken my news earlier. When I had told him about Sam and the possibility of a date in the future, I’d honestly expected a different reaction. Not that I wanted him to be full of jealous rage, cursing me and full of expletives for Sam, but I thought it might stir up some semblance of emotion within him. Not that I told him just to make him jealous, but he was far calmer than I had imagined. In fact, he barely said anything at all, and instead we finished our dinner and I tidied up, while Joe said he had to get some work done. I don’t think I fully understood where we were any more. Perhaps just living together in this house had changed our relationship and now new and slightly confusing branches of it were beginning to grow, but what did it all mean? Anything? Nothing? Something? And why had I mentioned the stupid bathroom? It wasn’t that bad, and honestly, in all the years we had been together in that house, he had never been the greatest cleaner and it had never bothered me before. Was I trying to cause an argument and, if so, why?
I finally sat up in bed, frustrated with myself that I couldn’t sleep, and reached across the nightstand for my phone. It was almost midnight, and I had Cold Water Club in the morning. I would need to be awake by six fifteen at the latest, and so if I fell asleep now that would give me six solid hours of sleep. That was fine. Six hours was good. I could definitely survive the day on six hours of sleep, but that was if I could fall asleep right away and the signs weren’t looking promising. I quickly checked Dolly’s location on my phone and she was at Maya’s house where she was spending the night. Then I went to X and started scrolling through that, checking the latest news, and what ridiculous things were trending and how many of them I would even understand or know about, before I got annoyed with myself because everything about falling to sleep said to never go on your phone. It was chapter one of the big book of being an insomniac:Stay away from your phone, stupid!Then I had to go pee.
Why had I told Joe about Sam? I was on the toilet thinking about it and outside I heard a car going past, and then a couple of people, obviously drunk, talking loudly and jarring against the peace of the night. I’d just wanted him to know. I was being honest, open, and yet, if that was the case, why was I disappointed in his reaction, or lack of a reaction? Did I want to make him jealous? I didn’t think so, but when I looked at the facts, scoured the evidence, it definitely appeared to be the case. But, if that was true, why? What good could come from making Joe jealous? What would it achieve? Was I trying to get back at him because he had lied about seeing a therapist? Was I that petty? I didn’t want to believe I was, but we all had the darker corners of our minds where we didn’t like to go, but which we knew were there. The crap drawer where we kept all the things we were embarrassed to leave out, and so we shoved them away, hidden in cupboards away from the prying eyes of any visitors.
I washed my hands, and then stood in the en suite for a moment, the light on, looking at myself in the mirror. I looked tired, in an old T-shirt, a small round stain just about level with my belly button, no bra, hair a mess, and obviously with no make-up. We’d had a little bit of sun recently and so that meant my freckles were out in full force. I had always hated them, and especially so when I was a teenager. Joe had always loved them though. He had told me on so many occasions that he preferred it when I didn’t wear make-up, and it made me think about the future and about being with someone new. At least Joe knew everything about me: the good, the bad and the downright ugly. He had seen me naked, and knew about the stretch marks that hadn’t gone away despite me applying cream to them constantly during my pregnancy. He didn’t mind that I only had the occasional trim ‘down there’, and after watchingNaked Attractiontogether, and realising that pretty much every single female on the show was completely shaved or had the ‘landing strip’, it made me appreciate how much Joe didn’t care. What if I started dating Sam, or anyone else for that matter, and they were used to only well-shaved vaginas? What if the cellulite on my bum and legs was on the wrong side of off-putting? Then there was the impending fear of what the menopause might do to me in the near future, and what sort of cliff I might fall off after that.
So many questions flew through my head, and this was the trouble with being awake in the middle of the night. My brain was in full-on spiral mode, and now I was hungry, too. It was now just past midnight, I was wide awake, and now I had to eat. Fuck!
I padded down the stairs in the dark, avoiding the step that made the awful squeak. There was always something quite strange about being in your own house in the middle of the night, like you were trespassing. Everything felt different, a little scarier, a touch more psychological thriller when during the day it was more romantic comedy. I turned the kitchen light on, went across to the cupboard and took down the box of Crunchy Nut. Not the healthiest midnight snack, but not the worst. I got a bowl and filled it up, before pouring over some milk. I made a mental note to buy more milk as we were low. Perhaps after Cold Water Club in the morning, if I made it.
I sat at the kitchen island and ate, scrolling through Instagram on my phone. Photos of the celebrities I followed, all living their best lives, and then friends posting photos from holidays, children’s birthday parties and family gatherings. I hadn’t posted anything on Instagram for several months. My last post was a picture of Dolly on the beach near the pier. She looked absolutely beautiful, her windswept hair across her face, looking at my phone over her shoulder with the biggest smile. That was taken in February, right before Joe and I had decided to separate. Was it that long ago? It felt like a different lifetime now. Was I even the same person? It was the beginning of July now, Dolly was done with her exams, and headed into her last summer before university, and time felt like it was moving too fast. I wasn’t ready for any of the changes that were coming, and yet I couldn’t do anything about them. I wanted to stop life for a moment and get off. I could use a break. Perhaps a holiday.
I walked back up the stairs, making sure to avoid the squeaky step, and then I walked past Joe’s room. I stopped for a moment, hearing the low rumble of him snoring. It was funny, over the years I had hated that snore, tried a variety of things to help him stop snoring, with little success, but now my room was so quiet, I missed it. Just having that noise had helped me sleep, and when I’d woken up in the middle of the night, turned over and listened to him, I’d known I wasn’t alone and I would slowly drift off again to the melodious sounds of Joe.
I clambered back into bed and looked at my phone for the last time. It was just after twelve thirty, and I needed to sleep. I should have brushed my teeth again after the Crunchy Nut, but I couldn’t be bothered. I was tired. I just needed to close my eyes and eventually I would fall asleep. It was our nineteen-year wedding anniversary soon. I didn’t know why that little fact popped into my head but it did. It would feel strange to acknowledge it, given the current state of our union, but it would also feel odd to ignore it, too. We were still married, and this would be the last year when we would be living together and able to perhaps celebrate – was that the right word? – our mostly happy relationship. I didn’t know. It was late and my mind was moving quickly from one thought to the next. Where would I live after this house? What might it be like dating Sam? Should I get my vagina waxed now in preparation because what if it looked awful and needed time to grow back? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about my marriage to Joe? Did I still want it to work? Did he? Was I spending enough time with Dolly, considering she would soon be leaving? My mind slowly began to stop, and I drifted off, my eyes closed, and I felt myself floating, dreaming, and then finally, I was asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Joe
