They Do the Same Things Different There Read Free Page A

What could it be worth if it could vanish so easily and without cause? So Juliet said that maybe he’d feel the same about her one day, and he denied that, he said this was a different kind of love, this one was solid. They had sex again after that. And then he got a bit tired, and asked whether she had anything to eat. He was bloody starving! And she wished she’d made the potato salad after all.
    “I’ve told Sheila all about us,” he said one Saturday. “We’re getting a divorce.” Juliet wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted him leaving his wife for her sake—she’d only just got used to the idea of feeling grief and feeling pleasure without now having to feel guilt as well. Dave assured her it was all right. Sheila was pretty angry, and his mother was absolutely furious for some reason, Juliet might want to avoid answering the phone for a bit. But this was good, they’d no longer be living a lie, and better still, he could now spend all weekend with her. Friday evening to Sunday! He’d stay all week, of course, but his office was in Leatherhead, he could drop his marriage but not his job, that’d be silly. And it worked fine for a while. He wouldn’t want sex the minute he got through the front door any longer, there was no need, they had all the time in the world now. He’d help her with the shopping on Saturdays, in the evening they might watch a movie. Then they’d make love, and it was fairly good, but Juliet couldn’t help but notice it was getting that bit more perfunctory, the hands weren’t quite so keen to explore, they stayed pretty much north of the equator. Colin hadn’t been a passionate man, but he’d had his moments, it had taken two years of marriage before the sex had got stale. With Dave it had taken a little under three months. Juliet supposed it was her fault, she must just suck the spirit out of people. And she didn’t
want
Dave to be like Colin, she didn’t want to think of Colin at all. But it was like prodding a sore tooth, she couldn’t help it, she knew Dave was so close to being his brother—she watched for the grey hairs, she put extra mayonnaise in the potato salad to fatten him up. And already as she lay beside him in bed, as they shopped, watched DVDs, she thought, he may not be Colin, but Colin Mark II could be seen peeping through. “I love you,” he’d tell her, so bloody often, and she’d believe him, but she’d choose half the time not to hear. “Let’s have a baby,” he said to her, “a baby of our very own.” “But you’ve got Tim,” she said. “Fuck Tim,” he said. “I want a son with you.” And he worked hard at that, Colin had never wanted a child, that made Dave different, didn’t it? Didn’t it? After they’d put the work in, he’d fall asleep and she’d lie in his arms. How long would he stay with her? How long could he love her? She’d started dreaming of turning on the news one weekday morning, and finding that Leatherhead was in the headlines, that Leatherhead had vanished from the face of the earth. And that’s what she wanted, too; she wanted Leatherhead to fade away, and take Dave with it, just so she’d know, just so she’d finally
know
it was over and done with. She was practising already in front of the bathroom mirror,—she was practising her grief, this time she knew just how she was going to do all those reactions. And although he hadn’t vanished yet, he hadn’t done a Luxembourg on her, as she cuddled next to his sleeping body she began to mourn. “I love you,” she said. “Oh God, I love you.” And she began to cry. This is grief, she thought, I’m getting
so
good at this! It hurt so much. If only he’d disappear.
    But Leatherhead didn’t disappear. And Luxembourg came back.
    Mrs. Wilson said she’d seen something on the news about it last night, hadn’t Juliet heard? She was surprised, she’d always thought Juliet considered herself quite the Luxembourg expert. Juliet didn’t believe her, but one of