Page 1 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
Prologue
“ ‘Once upon a time therewas a beautiful maiden who was trapped in an enchanted castle. The castle was surrounded by a forest of thorns and guarded by a fearsome dragon—’ ”
A girl with long brown pigtails starts frantically waving both arms in the air, so I pause from my reading.
“Yes, Isla? Do you need the toilet?” the teacher, Mrs. Hollybush, asks the girl.
“What’s the dragon’s name?” Isla asks. More small hands shoot up.
“Are dragons nocturnal?” asks a boy wearing purple glasses.
“Is it home time?” comes the muffled cry of a girl who’s pulled her school jumper up over her face.
Mrs. Hollybush sighs. “We’ve talked about this, 1H, please just let Ethan’s mummy read the story. There’ll be time for questions at the end, okay?” She gives me an encouraging smile, then nods for me to continue.
Every Friday afternoon my son Ethan’s primary school invites a parent to come and read a book to their child’s class. Ethan has been asking me to sign up for months. It’s been a disruptiveyear, with Dan and I separating, so I’ve been trying to assuage my mum guilt in other small ways: pretending I enjoy board games, cooking waffles at weekends, and now ducking out of work early to read a fairy tale to thirty noisy six-year-olds. As I sit perched on a tiny chair, looking out at the children sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of me, my gaze falls on Ethan. He beams, thrilled to have me here. I return his smile, then turn back to the book.
“ ‘The dragon scared everyone away, but a few brave princes tried to rescue the fair maiden. They would need to fight their way through the thorns and defeat the beast to win her hand in marriage.’ ”
“Does she have Lego?” shouts out a little boy with wild blond curls.
“No, Kenny, she doesn’t have Lego. That’s not part of the story,” Mrs. Hollybush interjects with a tight smile. I notice she has a slight eye twitch.
“What does she play with?” Kenny asks. “Does she have a brother?”
“Does she have Pokémon cards?” asks a girl with a distractingly runny nose.
“Does she havereallylong hair?” asks a boy lying on the floor with his eyes closed.
Mrs. Hollybush claps her hands three times, which prompts the children to sit up straight, then zip their mouths closed. I pause for a moment, but they are quiet, so I continue.
“ ‘One day a handsome prince was riding by. He spied the fair maiden at the window of the tallest turret and immediately fell in love with her.’ ” I clear my throat. I did not choose this book, and I’m not sure I approve of the messaging. How could the prince possibly fall in love with her from that far away? Even if you believe in love at first sight, which I don’t, from the ground, with agiant, fire-breathing dragon in the way, how much of this maiden could this man possibly see? “ ‘The prince managed to fight his way through the thorns, reach the castle gates, defeat the dragon, leap the drawbridge, and—’ ”
“Did the dragon die?” cries a little girl with red felt-tip pen around her mouth, her eyes wide with concern.
“I don’t think so. It probably just got tired and ran out of fire,” I say, hiding the graphic illustration of the prince stabbing the dragon in the heart.
“Dragons don’t run out of fire,” Kenny scoffs. Then there’s a hurling sound as a child sitting right by my feet throws up all over the carpet, spattering my black suede boots.
“Oh, Jason, oh no, not again,” Mrs. Hollybush says with a groan. She jumps up to deal with the situation, grabbing a pale Jason by the elbow, then pointing me in the direction of the hallway. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Humphries, the guest toilet is along the corridor.”
In the bathroom, I use a green paper towel to wipe off my shoes, feeling grateful that I chose a career in journalism rather than teaching. After washing my hands, I pull out my phone and take a moment to check my e-mail. At the top of my inbox, there is something from the government. Why is the government e-mailing me?
From: HMCTS Divorce Services
Subject: Your divorce is now complete
Dear Ms. Anna Humphries,
Your decree absolute has been granted and you are now divorced. You can find your certificate of decree absolute attached. This is the final document proving you are nowdivorced. You will need to show this certificate if you get married again, or should you wish to change your name.
Divorce Services, UK Government
A sudden wave of nausea hits me, and I hold on to the washbasin to steady myself. My legs feel as though they might buckle. Twelve years of marriage dissolved in an e-mail.An e-mail?What did I expect, a scroll delivered on horseback, a town crier? A reverse wedding ceremony where we solemnly retract our vows? I know we live in a digital age, but an e-mail just feels so callous, so cold, so…so woefully inadequate. Did Dan get this e-mail too? How did he feel when he opened it? Relieved? Upset? A confusing combination of the two?
My chin begins to tremble and my eyes start to water.Oh no, please, not now.I’ve held it together this far, I can’t fall apart now, at my son’s school. I knew this was coming, of course I did, but I didn’t expect it to happen like this.I’ll need to change my name, apply for a new passport, I’ll have to tick a different box on forms now…No, no, don’t let your mind spiral, Anna. Just go back to the classroom, finish reading the stupid book, then you can go home and digest this in private.
Below the e-mail from the government is a new message from Dan. Maybe he got the same communication and feels strange about it too. Clicking it open, I see it’s just one line:Can you show these to the kids so they can see what I’m up to? D.He’s currently on holiday in South America, climbing Machu Picchu, the “trip of a lifetime.” He’s attached photos of himself looking tanned and happy, standing beneath bright blue skies with the Incan citadel in the background. So no, he’s not feeling sick about the divorce e-mail, he’s having a lovely time enjoying his newfound freedom.I always wanted to see Machu Picchu. It’s number three on my bucket list, it wasn’t even in Dan’s top ten.
