Husbands Read Free Page A

believed I was looking for ‘the one’, that my search and wanderlust were born from something as prosaic as that. But when I met him I thought I heard the pieces of my life drop into place.
    Oscar was twenty-eight, just two years older than me but he seemed the epitome of grown-up sophistication. He owned his own flat, a small one-bedroom thing, above a dry-cleaner’s in Fulham. He had a car. He threw dinner parties. It was only a few short months before he suggested that it was time for me to hang up my travellingboots and hinted that maybe he could swing a job for me as a receptionist at the media buying company he worked for. I never saw the Empire State Building or the Taj Mahal.
    Not that I had a problem with that at the time because I felt a seismic shift. Something like relief washed over me and I hastily agreed. I believed that meeting the love of my life had answered all my questions and needs. And he
had
to be the love of my life, didn’t he? He was clever enough, good looking enough and even though he hadn’t travelled (because you can’t class two-week package holidays to Crete or Ibiza as travel) he seemed happy enough to listen to my boisterous recounting of adventures
and
I fancied him so much I practically fizzed when he walked into the room. It seemed like love to me.
    Three years, a white wedding, a baby boy and a decree absolute later I realized I was still on life’s journey. Far from Oscar answering all my questions, his existence just forced me to ask new, harder ones.
    Bella hadn’t actually worn out her passport and crossed continents like I had but she was always seeking out new experiences too; she was a stone that gathered no moss. Bella looked Latin although born in Scotland and had moved to London in her early twenties. I’m not sure how she passed her time before that, she doesn’t yak about her family much. My guess is that she has a perfectly respectable middle-class background and a respectable 2:2 degree to boot. This hardly fits in with the bohemian lifestyle that she likes to pursue and portray so she is tight-lipped about her teen years.
    We bonded because we were broke and knew wellthe tedium of temping. We bonded because we soon discovered that we love a decent paperback, our Boots loyalty cards, window shopping and white wine. We bonded because we believe you have to laugh or else you’d cry and we believe that there’s something in horoscopes. We bonded because Bella said nice things about my son (even while he was in his buggy and asleep she noticed his above-average intelligence and creative temperament). We bonded because, in short, she is kind.
    Bella’s line rings. She picks up the handset quickly. Philip is probably asleep and she won’t want to wake him.
    ‘Hiya.’ I don’t need to introduce myself.

3. I Need Somebody to Lean On
    Monday 10th May 2004
    Bella
    Philip has already eaten half a grapefruit and two slices of wholemeal toast by the time I make it to the kitchen. He is standing at the sink rinsing his plates before he stacks them in the dishwasher. He does this because, he tells me, a build-up of crumbs, rice or even tomato sauce will eventually cause the dishwasher to break and, he points out, nobody likes putting their hand in the filter bit to scoop out soggy spaghetti or peas. He is undoubtedly right but still I am aware that I rarely rinse. He smiles and pats his hands on a tea towel before turning his attention to brewing me a cup of the strong, black, Colombian coffee that I need to kick-start my morning.
    ‘You didn’t need to get up,’ he says. ‘It’s not yet seven.’
    It’s true that I don’t need to get up, I’m officially resting, that much Philip and I agree on. What I am resting from and for is far more complex. I think I am resting from a lifetime of catapulting from unsuitable job to unsuitable job. I live in hope that a bit of ‘me-time’ will give me the necessary space to discover my vocation. Philip thinks I am resting to