Page 102 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
Maya and Cleo seem to be in a deep slumber so Grace rests her head back on the sofa, resigned to her fate. ‘Excellent, when you’re ready Mum’s made a bed for you upstairs. Can you bring me down some pillows?’
‘Of course. Can I ask you a favour too?’
‘Sure.’
‘There was a letter that Will wrote to me. Dad said Lucy sent it to everyone. Did you have a copy?’
‘I do.’
‘Can I read it?’ I ask.
‘It’s a good letter,’ replies Grace. ‘Good penmanship. I’ll warn you though, he may have also spoken about the kiss.’
‘Oh.’
‘Everyone’s been quiet about it to your face but in a group chat, Mum said next time he was here she was going to piss in his tea.’
‘Like drop her pants in the kitchen and pee in a mug?’
‘I didn’t question the mechanics of how she was going to do it,’ she says, laughing. ‘I’ll forward the screen shot, or do you want me to add you to the group?’
‘There’s a family group chatting about my relationship?’
‘Yeah?’ she says calmly. We once had a group chat because Meg’s kids had nits and gave them all to us one Christmas. We shared scalp pictures and compared horrors.
‘Send me the screenshot. And anything from the group that’s tasty.’
She salutes me in return.
‘What do you think I should do, Gracie?’
She pauses for a moment. She is qualified now to comment about love, life and all its sharp turns and bends. She has lost, she has gained and her heart has experienced much more than mine. I await her words of wisdom.
‘Tea. Make me tea.’
‘Is that the answer to everything?’
‘Yes.’
BONUS TRACK
‘Love’s Theme’ – Barry White’s Love Unlimited Orchestra (1973)
Dear B,
You know me well enough now to know that I don’t write letters. I write postcards and texts and Post-it notes that I leave on the fridge telling you to buy more milk. So I must really need to tell you something or must really bloody love you to put pen to actual paper and tell you what’s been going on in my head.
Firstly, I need to say sorry. I’m so unbelievably sorry. I’ve been a complete arsehole. Pete tells me this every day, so does Kat but in more subtle ways like when she stands over me checking I’ve done the washing-up properly. I’ve run away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me. There’s no other way of saying it and that was an awful thing to do, both on your birthday and just because it was you. My best friend. The mother of our child. I kissed someone else and totally betrayed your trust. The lies, the cover-up that followed were unacceptable and I totally get that. Please believe me when I say I don’t want anyone else. Only you. After your party, I sat on the platform at Richmond and I cried. I cried so hard that they called staff on me because they thought I was going to jump onto the tracks. I wasn’t, but I got a free cup of tea out of it. I told a woman called Caroline in a hi-vis vest that I was just overwhelmed because I had a new baby and she told me this story about how her son had acid reflux and she couldn’t lay him down for the first four months of his life. She hugged me. She told me to hang on in there because babies can sometimes be dicks.
The problem is, I think everything is just hanging on in there by the thinnest of threads.
Joe is amazing. I can’t believe we made that. I could just look at him for days. But it’s more than just the three of us now, coasting through life, winging it. Taking this job with Sam’s studio was all for me. I didn’t want to be some architect in a local office designing identikit boxes on housing developments. I wanted to still feel young and relevant and bring home better money, but it was all a mistake. Sam is a car crash. She rattles with the amount of pills in her and she’s an awful human being. I need to figure out work. I need to think about being closer to where we are. Not getting the promotion floored me. I felt rubbish after that. Like I’d let you down for nothing.
And I’d got to the stage where all the pressures of everything got to me. It was work but it was also Jason, teasing me with how settled and how dull I’d got, it was knowing that every day I needed to come back to you and help and be part of our family. It was exhausting. And then thinking about the mortgage, money, flat. And just being a dad. God, Beth…I’m a dad. Dads are older and they know what to do in every situation. My dad did. He fixed bikes and knew how to fish and change filters. He was present. He was so on it. So I panicked. I took all that panic on myself as well because I didn’t want to burden you with it. I should have just told you. You’d have understood everything because you’re Beth.
And then last week. Last week was awful. I still couldn’t tell you what I wanted to and then we tried to have sex and it all went so wrong. Not because of you – never think that – but because my mind was going over everything. I worry you think I’m less of a man because I’ve done this. And so this was in my head, this was all I could think about. How I’d failed and fucked up and didn’t deserve you and those thoughts obviously travelled down to my balls. I do love you, I fucking adore you. I’d shag you any day of the week and you know that. Upside down and hanging off a wardrobe, hairy pits and everything.
I don’t know what to do now. I want to graft and work through this. Hand on heart, I know I’ve made mistakes and I just want to do better. What we have is a bit messy and all over the place but I want to make us work. I want a future with you, by my side. I’d marry you in a heartbeat. We both know that’s not a proposal, but it is something I have to say, something you need to know. Next time I ask you, I’ll do it properly. I promise.
