Page 64 of Not Moving Out
‘What? As in sexual intercourse?’ replied an incredulous Barney.
‘Yes, Barney, as in sexual intercourse. I take it you already know?’ I said to Stuart.
‘Actually not, mate,’ said Stuart. ‘The girls kept that one quiet.’
‘So what happened with the SI?’ said Barney, and Stuart and I both looked at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about, forcing him to explain. ‘Sexual intercourse.’
‘Oh, right,’ I said. ‘It happened the night of our wedding anniversary. We’d had a few drinks, one thing led to another, and you know the rest. Anyway, afterwards, I genuinely thought that maybe we had a chance of getting back together, but she wasn’t interested.’
‘Sorry, mate,’ said Stuart.
‘Anyway, rightly or wrongly, I ended up putting that in the show, too, or a scene like it, and I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I went too far.’
‘You mean, is it a sitcom or more reality TV?’ said Barney.
‘Something like that. My agent Carl had a meeting at the BBC yesterday, and I’m waiting for news, but I’m worried that if it’s good, and I have to confess everything to Freya, it will all blow up in my face. Plus, there’s Dolly, too. There’s a daughter in the show, and there are obviously crossovers with her and Dolly. I don’t know, it’s all such a fucking mess.’
‘If you want my advice,’ said Barney.
‘Depends. Does it involve the use of the term SI?’ I said, and Stuart laughed.
‘No,’ said Barney. ‘Although feel free to use that in the show if you like. My advice to you, Joseph, is to come clean about the whole thing. From my experience, the pain of keeping a secret is often worse than the secret itself.’
‘Surprisingly sage advice,’ said Stuart.
‘Yes, Barney, very wise,’ I added.
‘I saw it on an Instagram post, but, you know, I think it works,’ said Barney, before we got back to our breakfast sandwiches and coffee.
It was clear that wherever he’d got the quote from, it was solid advice. I had been holding on to this secret for such a long time that it had become bigger than the secret itself. The fear of what might happen when Freya found out had become so monumental in my head, so intrinsically linked to any sort of future happiness, it had paralysed me. Doing nothing had become easier than doing something, but the trouble with doing nothing was that nothing changed.
‘How’s your dating life, Barney?’ I said after a minute.
‘I’ve actually been seeing a woman from Bristol,’ said Barney tentatively.
‘From Bristol or does she actually live in Bristol?’ asked Stuart.
‘Lives in Bristol,’ said Barney.
‘That’s a bit of a commute for a date,’ I said, not imagining such a long-distance relationship would be easy.
‘We’ve been on five dates already, and it’s looking really, you know, promising.’
‘Where do you go on these dates? Does she come here? Do you go there?’ I asked.
‘Actually,’ said Barney. ‘Our last date was at Chieveley service station. It’s a bit nearer to her, but sort of in the middle. They have a lovely outdoor seating area, and we got a Costa coffee, shared a Cornish pasty and a packet of Percy Pigs.’
‘That sounds sort of romantic,’ I said.
‘Do you think it has legs despite the sizeable distance between you?’ asked Stuart.
‘I do,’ said Barney with a grin. We asked him about her, and his whole face lit up. ‘Her name’s Phoebe. She’s forty, a novelist, so perfect for me, has never been married, has a dog called Wilf, used to live in London but now calls Bristol home, and she’s just really lovely.’
‘Oh, mate, you sound like you’re in love,’ I said.
‘Stop it,’ said Barney, blushing wildly.
‘I think he might be right,’ said Stuart with a broad smile.
