What was so special about the bunny girl Robert ran off with? Sally pondered the question for the hundredth time, although this time it was Colin who was asking, not her own mind.
“I guess she just had bigger boobs,” she answered, “because she certainly didn’t have a couple of brain cells to rub together.”
Colin looked at her, taking his eyes off the road momentarily, stung by the caustic reply.
“That bad, eh?” He wondered whether to pursue this conversation further.
“It was a classic case of a boys night out gone awry,” she continued. “Robert was at a lap dancing club with some of his mates and a couple of clients, things between us were not brilliant, and next thing you know this dolly bird bounces over to him, all sequins and tassels and bouncing size G cleavage, gives him the eye and two weeks later he’s moved out and in to a brand new flat in Clerkenwell with his new woman. From Slovakia, as if that is supposed to make it acceptable. Idiot.”
Sally was struck by the acidity in her own voice as she recounted this summarised version of events that had finally buried her marriage no more than six months ago. It was her way of dealing with the pain. She could feel her eyes smarting and was grateful for the traffic so that Colin had to revert to focusing on the road rather than cast any more glances her way.
“And now?”
“And now life goes on.” Sally sighed. It was the type of conversation she was sick of. She wanted to move on, needed to, but everyone around her – her parents, her friends, her colleagues, even Colin now whom she didn’t know at all – was intent on raking over one way or another what had gone wrong, or what they perceived as having gone wrong. It wasn’t their fault really, how were they to know the intricacies of her marriage to Robert?
“We were married for seven years,” she continued, breaking the silence in the car.
“Isn’t that the trickiest year? Seven year itch and all that? Or is that just coincidental?”
“Well, considering we were together for four years before we got married, it’s probably just a convenient exit clause.”
Colin was intrigued. The dinner at his mother’s that evening had confirmed his judgement that Sally was a decent person, well mannered, educated, intelligent, and attractive, albeit in a slightly unconventional way in that she did not make an effort and did not seem to even know what her best attributes were (eyes, teeth and hands, in his book). Given his own past disastrous experiences with women, he was amazed she had even agreed to join him for dinner, at his mother’s no less, but this also gave her additional kudos in his eyes. He was under no illusion that he was a ‘great catch’ in any sense of the word. But he must have some value for her to have accepted and gone through with it. Or maybe she was just being kind and he had caught her at an opportune moment?
“Would you do it again?” he asked her.
“What? Get married?” She looked at him in horror.
“No, sorry, I mean would you go out with me again?”
Sally quickly pondered her choices. Evenings at home watching re-runs of Friends over takeaways. Waiting for Robert to call and say he made a mistake and beg her forgiveness. Anticipating Keira’s next phone call to recant the latest pregnancy news. Spending more hours at the volunteer centre doing mindless work...
“Sure, why not?” She smiled at Colin. “Just one condition.”
“Oh? Okay, what would that be?”
“No lap dancing clubs.” Sally burst in to a fit of laughter that was infectious.
As they stopped at the traffic lights, nearby cars were amused by the sight of Colin and Sally wiping tears from their eyes as they fought to control themselves.
“This will be a great friendship, I promise,” Colin finally managed to say as he squeezed Sally’s hand in her lap.
“Thanks,” she returned the squeeze, “I need that.”
“I guess she just had bigger boobs,” she answered, “because she certainly didn’t have a couple of brain cells to rub together.”
Colin looked at her, taking his eyes off the road momentarily, stung by the caustic reply.
“That bad, eh?” He wondered whether to pursue this conversation further.
“It was a classic case of a boys night out gone awry,” she continued. “Robert was at a lap dancing club with some of his mates and a couple of clients, things between us were not brilliant, and next thing you know this dolly bird bounces over to him, all sequins and tassels and bouncing size G cleavage, gives him the eye and two weeks later he’s moved out and in to a brand new flat in Clerkenwell with his new woman. From Slovakia, as if that is supposed to make it acceptable. Idiot.”
Sally was struck by the acidity in her own voice as she recounted this summarised version of events that had finally buried her marriage no more than six months ago. It was her way of dealing with the pain. She could feel her eyes smarting and was grateful for the traffic so that Colin had to revert to focusing on the road rather than cast any more glances her way.
“And now?”
“And now life goes on.” Sally sighed. It was the type of conversation she was sick of. She wanted to move on, needed to, but everyone around her – her parents, her friends, her colleagues, even Colin now whom she didn’t know at all – was intent on raking over one way or another what had gone wrong, or what they perceived as having gone wrong. It wasn’t their fault really, how were they to know the intricacies of her marriage to Robert?
“We were married for seven years,” she continued, breaking the silence in the car.
“Isn’t that the trickiest year? Seven year itch and all that? Or is that just coincidental?”
“Well, considering we were together for four years before we got married, it’s probably just a convenient exit clause.”
Colin was intrigued. The dinner at his mother’s that evening had confirmed his judgement that Sally was a decent person, well mannered, educated, intelligent, and attractive, albeit in a slightly unconventional way in that she did not make an effort and did not seem to even know what her best attributes were (eyes, teeth and hands, in his book). Given his own past disastrous experiences with women, he was amazed she had even agreed to join him for dinner, at his mother’s no less, but this also gave her additional kudos in his eyes. He was under no illusion that he was a ‘great catch’ in any sense of the word. But he must have some value for her to have accepted and gone through with it. Or maybe she was just being kind and he had caught her at an opportune moment?
“Would you do it again?” he asked her.
“What? Get married?” She looked at him in horror.
“No, sorry, I mean would you go out with me again?”
Sally quickly pondered her choices. Evenings at home watching re-runs of Friends over takeaways. Waiting for Robert to call and say he made a mistake and beg her forgiveness. Anticipating Keira’s next phone call to recant the latest pregnancy news. Spending more hours at the volunteer centre doing mindless work...
“Sure, why not?” She smiled at Colin. “Just one condition.”
“Oh? Okay, what would that be?”
“No lap dancing clubs.” Sally burst in to a fit of laughter that was infectious.
As they stopped at the traffic lights, nearby cars were amused by the sight of Colin and Sally wiping tears from their eyes as they fought to control themselves.
“This will be a great friendship, I promise,” Colin finally managed to say as he squeezed Sally’s hand in her lap.
“Thanks,” she returned the squeeze, “I need that.”