Page 33 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘He didn’t. I left of my own accord.’
‘Still. He should have gone with you, no?’
I don’t know how to reply to that. Do I wish he’d sacked off his dance party and accompanied me home? Yes. But I knew why Will had to stay. It was a work thing, a potential for promotion thing. We also don’t have the sort of relationship where we tell each other what to do. Of course, we scrap over chores and things around the house, like how he leaves his wet towels hanging off the wardrobe doors, but I am also me. I leave empty mugs everywhere, and little molehills of my clothes lie around the floor of the flat.
‘I’m fine. Your sofa is dead comfy.’ I look at the clock on her mantelpiece. ‘And that’s the longest I’ve slept in forever.’
She rubs my shoulder reassuringly and I’m relieved as it removes the judgement from her face. She hands Joe over to me and I realise that to feed him, I will have to hike up this shirt and sit here with my knickers and overhang. Emma’s a doctor so I suppose she’s seen worse but I try and hide everything with the fleece blanket she draped over me. She watches as I unhook my bra and remove my breast pad to see an eighth of marijuana drop on my thighs. Her eyes may as well fall out of their sockets. This is the wrong woman to see that. Meg would have been fine, Lucy still smokes on occasion, but Emma, who has dedicated house slippers for her visitors and Marie Kondos the shit out of her knicker drawer? No.
‘What on earth, Beth?’
I want to say,That’s oregano. I like to self-season in restaurants.But she’s not that stupid and I’m sure she knows what it looks like after Mum found some on Lucy once and reacted by chasing her down the street with a dustpan.
‘Are you smoking weed? Do you know how harmful that is to Joe?’
‘Of course I’m not smoking weed. I haven’t in years.’
She rifles around on the coffee table, trying to find some baby wipes.
‘Wipe your boobs down immediately before you put that anywhere near my nephew’s mouth! There could be traces of anything on that packet.’
Her panic is warranted, to be fair, but Joe looks upset that there are delays to his breakfast. She runs to get a bottle of bleach and sprays it at me.
‘Disinfect?’ I look at her strangely but do as I’m told. ‘For my life, are you dealing?’
‘Out of my bosom? No! One of the group had drugs and they were searching bags and pockets so I hid it there. It’s all sealed, there’s no risk to Joe, right?’
I finish wiping and she runs to the kitchen to dispose of the offending wipe. Joe smiles at me before latching on. Emma returns, cradling her coffee. The plastic packet still sits on her sofa and she eyes it curiously before picking it up with two fingers and flinging it in my nearby handbag. ‘You’re not even curious to keep it and have a puff?’ I ask.
‘No. In medical school, I saw a man fling himself off a roof once completely razzled on acid. So, I just say no.’
‘Goody two shoes.’
She pretends to polish an imaginary halo. ‘And how was it? Did you have a nice time at least?’
‘Do you know what rillettes is?’
‘It’s another word for pâté.’
‘Oh. Anyway, I just wasn’t in the mood.’
She scans my face.
‘Did you two have a fight?’
‘No. Not even that. He’s got some flamboyant new boss and I think he was trying to keep up with her and his colleagues to prove a point. It was painful to see and I was just seriously lagging by the end. Not being able to get drunk didn’t help.’
‘So Will was drunk?’
And possibly off his bollocks on an unknown substance.But I stay quiet. Given her reaction to the weed in my bra that may be too much for her to digest at this time.
‘He’s not breastfeeding. He was allowed.’
‘But did he at least check you got home safely or ask about Joe?’
I grab at my phone and show her my last text to him which he replied to with a row of lemon emojis. She doesn’t quite get it. Emma’s not usually so judgy but her recent divorce has made her hold people to different standards these days. She’s more guarded, more closed off.
‘This is great coffee,’ I say, trying to change the subject, reaching for my toast. ‘Thank you for letting me stay.’
