by Tracy Bloom
If Suzie tried using her head a bit more often rather than listening to her misguided heart she might be better off. He hoped she’d picked up his threatening text message regarding any contact she might be considering with Alex during her post break-up break down. He wouldn’t put it past her to call him and beg for a second chance, such was the level of common sense she applied to her love life. He checked his phone to see if she had replied just as it came alive, heralding the arrival of a very welcome incoming call.
“Not like you to call me at work,” he said picking up.
“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” a woman with a cool, low voice asked.
“Not at all,” he replied. “I could do with a dose of sanity.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m ringing you regarding this insurance policy you wanted me to check over.”
“Great,” he said, relieved to be having a conversation with a woman which didn’t involve high drama.
“Well I’ve looked at it from a lawyer’s perspective and it’s certainly all legal,” she said. “And from a personal point of view I think you’re right. It’s an entirely sensible idea for us to insure our wedding.”
“I knew you’d agree Emily,” said Drew leaning back in his chair and congratulating himself once again on his choice of fiancé. This was why Emily was the perfect woman for him. Someone who in the midst of wedding planning frenzy could discuss wedding insurance in a sensible manner rather than ringing up tearfully with tales of calamities with carnations or bust ups with bridesmaids.
“Well I think it’s incredibly nice of you to worry about Dad wasting his money if by any chance a disaster happens,” she said.
“Well given that he refuses to let us pay for anything then I think it’s the least we can do don’t you?”
“Absolutely. And it’s good to know that we are covered if any of the suppliers really screws up.”
“Exactly.”
“Or,” she said as Drew heard her rustling papers at the other end of the phone. “Or if you get an unexpected posting overseas as a serving member of the UK armed forces.”
He also liked her sarcastic sense of humour.
“You’re right Emily,” he laughed. “That would be a disaster.”
“And very unexpected,” replied Emily. “I will sleep better though knowing that we could still pay for a wedding should either of us sustain an accidental bodily injury that causes death or permanent disablement.”
Drew took a moment to consider this statement.
“So you would still marry me then?” he asked.
“Obviously not if you were dead,” replied Emily. “As for disability it depends on the level.” There was a pause as Emily’s considerable brain could almost be heard ticking over. “Brain damage I think would leave me with no choice but to cancel, however loss of limbs might be acceptable as long as it’s not all of them.”
“I see,” he said. “So exactly which limbs should I avoid losing if I want to stay in with a chance?”
“Well,” she said after a couple of moments’ thinking time. “Arms. I think I’d still want you to have arms.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“I don’t want to spend my married life wiping your backside do I?”
“Good point.” replied Drew. Occasionally Emily’s rising career as a divorce lawyer gave her an obscenely practical view of marriage.
“So is there anything else I should be avoiding other than the loss of arms?” Drew asked.
“Well you’d better check with Toby where he’s taking you for your stag-do because there is no cover for death, disablement or injury as a result of participation in any dangerous activity including hang-gliding, scuba-diving, parachuting, motor-racing, rock climbing, mountaineering or horse-riding.”
“Well I think it is safe to say that Toby is extremely unlikely to have organized horse-riding for my stag-do. We can rule that one out.”
“Pity we can’t insure against Toby,” sighed Emily. “I know he’s your best friend but he is the person most likely to cause some kind of disaster at our wedding.”
“No, he’s taking it all very seriously,” defended Drew. “I’ve given him a pep talk and said he has to play it straight. No surprises.”
“Well I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said rustling papers again. “One last thing then I must go as I have a client meeting starting in five minutes.”
“Fire away.”
“Well the policy does state that in the event of either party getting cold feet prior to the day, they do provide cover for professional counselling but no cover for any costs incurred.”
Drew let the silence that followed Emily’s comment drag on just a moment too long. He compensated with forced hearty laughter.
“How reassuring,” he said after his outburst. “We’ll have bankrupted your father but be unlikely to slit our wrists.”
“Yes, that’s right,” replied Emily laughing as well. “It’s a good job there’s absolutely no chance of that after all this time. Goodness, if we can’t be sure now when would we be?”
“No,” he said. “It would be absolutely ridiculous if one of us got cold feet after sixteen years.”
“You’re right,” agreed Emily.
“What idiots we’d look for wasting all that time,” he said.
“Yes,” said Emily.
“What an earth would everyone say?” he said
“Mmm,” she responded.
“We’d be a laughing stock,” added Drew.
Another silence appeared before Emily ushered it away.
“So I’m happy to organise this insurance then,” she said cheerfully.
“Are you sure?” he replied. “You must be so busy organizing all the other stuff.”
“It’s no trouble really. Everything else is under control.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Right must go. See you tonight.”
“Yep, see you later then.”
Drew put his phone down and stared at the professionally-taken engagement photograph on his desk and wondering for the umpteenth time if that was really him smiling back as though straight out of a catalogue. After a few minutes he shook himself and decided to check out how his fantasy football team was doing. The truly crucial issue of the day.
Chapter 4
Dear Suzie,
I have been going out with someone from work for over six months now and it’s been going really well so I decided to invite him to spend Christmas with me and my family. As you can imagine I was absolutely over the moon when he said he’d love to. The following day he sent me a text saying it was all over and he was about to book a Christmas holiday with his mates. He said he didn’t tell me the night before because he wanted to have sex. I still really love him and want him back. What should I do?
Yours
A Hopeless Romantic
She had their undivided attention now. The three men sat motionless, staring at her across the meeting room table, a whole myriad of reactions swarming over their faces as she finished reading out the letter displayed in all its glory on the projector screen behind her.
One look at Gareth, however, sent a wave of panic through her body. He looked confused, on the borderline of angry. Was she making a massive mistake? It had all seemed like such a good idea at 3am that morning when she was bouncing off the walls post four pints of coffee, three rolls of wine gums and two bars of Galaxy as a result of a late night garage run. Standing here now on the brink of professional suicide it seemed like the definition of insanity.
“I’ve realised that no-one gives the type of advice that would really be useful,” she’d said to her bored-looking editor at the beginning of her presentation. “No-one really tells women how to deal with the men who screw up their lives.”
“Suzie,” Gareth had said holding up his hand signalling her to stop. “When I said sort out the column what I meant was give me something to read that doesn’t make my skin crawl, and something that at
tracts more advertising. What I don’t want is some feminist bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” she replied trying hard to control her anger at his harsh words. “What I was writing before was bullshit. Pathetic, run-of-the-mill, send-for-a-leaflet, go-and-waste-your-money-on-counselling bullshit that every other agony aunt churns out. What good does that do? Have you ever heard of anyone who has saved their relationship by filling in awkward silences in a room with a middle-aged woman who asks about your irrelevant childhood?”
Gareth took a slug from his cardboard coffee mug without taking his eyes off her.
“Continue,” he said putting the coffee back down.
She glanced at Drew for some encouragement but his eyebrows were so far up his forehead they had practically disappeared under his side parting. She’d wanted to run it all past him that morning, but he’d been late in and had come straight to the meeting.
At that point Alex, the third man in the room, was fully absorbed in his Blackberry and barely listening to anything she was saying. She felt a shot of pure anger which gave her the boost she needed. She was still bristling from where he had touched her earlier after he strode into the room, running late.
“Good morning people,” he’d declared as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Sorry I’m late Gareth, but it’s been bedlam. I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to pull in a mega-advertiser.”
“Don’t tell me,” Gareth said through gritted teeth, “until it’s in writing. I’m sick of your half-baked promises. Now sit down and wait your turn.”
She felt Alex walk behind her, clearly unaffected by Gareth’s jibe. She hadn’t dared look at him, not entirely sure if her emotions were fully in check yet. But before he came into her eye-line she felt his hand on her right shoulder. She leapt up in her chair with surprise before he gave her a sympathetic squeeze and then sat down right next to her.
How dare he touch her? Sympathy and touching was for yesterday when he broke up with her. She looked at him in shock. He stared back and mouthed a silent “Are you okay?” before reaching out and giving her hand a squeeze and painting a fake concerned look on his face.
He didn’t have that look on his face now. He was all white and wide-eyed and slack-jawed. She’d had to cough to get his attention before she read out the letter displayed on screen, explaining that it was a mock letter used to illustrate her new style of column. Seeing his stunned face hardened her resolve. He deserved this. She deserved this. At some point in the dead of night she’d come to the conclusion she had nothing to lose. Her love life was a disaster and as for her career, well, writing an agony column wasn’t exactly fulfilling her dreams of being the next Kate Adie. So screw it. If it all went belly up she’d go and do an Eat, Pray, Love. Although knowing her luck it would turn out to be more Eat, Pray you don’t get fat, Love being obese and a spinster.
There was no going back now. She just had to take a deep breath and go through with it and hope that she came out the other side intact.
“And now I will show you how Dear Suzie will be responding in the future,” she said leaning over to click onto the next screen without taking her eyes off Alex. She read out the reply letter slowly, allowing every word to sink in.
Dear Hopeless Romantic,
You are an idiot.
He doesn’t give a toss about you.
Please read the above sentence repeatedly until you believe it, because it is true.
My mailbag is full of women like you. Women writing to me seeking hope. Hope that there is something they can do to turn their nightmare into a fairytale so they can live happily ever after. Well listen to this.
Forget Hope.
Hope is not your friend.
Hope is the devil who will lead you to pointless desperate measures.
So move on. BUT not before you show this man that he cannot tread all over your soaring heart. Not before you teach him there are consequences to his actions. Not before you make him suffer in the same way as he has made you suffer. And if you can’t do it for yourself then do it for every other woman out there, to teach him that he has to treat the next one better.
So, Hopeless Romantic, your cowardly colleague has to learn not one, not two but three valuable lessons.
Lesson One: Never, ever ruin a woman’s Christmas
Suzie glanced up, her heart beating so loudly she was surprised they couldn’t hear it. Drew was still totally wide-eyed; Gareth thankfully was looking vaguely interested whilst Alex was staring at her as if she was a complete lunatic.
She felt like she was having an out of body experience. As though she was watching someone else make a complete fool of herself – or maybe that was wishful thinking. She tried very hard to look in control and confident as she leant forward to pull the speaker phone from the middle of the table towards her.
“Now for a practical demonstration,” she said pressing the redial button and sensing the three men in the room looking at each other in confusion. The phone rang out filling the silence until someone could be heard picking it up.
“Hello, Pauline speaking,’ said a woman’s voice.
“Hello Mrs. Collingwood,” Suzie jumped in before Alex could express his astonishment that she was calling his mother in the middle of a team meeting. “It’s Suzie here again and I’ve got Alex with me.”
“Right dear. How is he?”
“Oh he’s being very brave Mrs. Collingwood.”
“Is he? That’s good. I’m so glad you called me Suzie. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I know it’s very hard when you end a relationship but it’s so kind of you to worry about how Alex is going to cope.”
“With parents like you to help, Mrs. Collingwood I’m sure he’ll pull through.”
“Well we are always here for him, he knows that. Do you want to put him on and I’ll ask him shall I?”
“Of course. Here he is.” Suzie elbowed Alex in the ribs.
“What are you doing,” he mouthed to her.
“Just say hello,” she mouthed back.
“Er, hi mum,” he said holding his hands up in utter confusion.
“Oh, Alex I’m so sorry it’s not worked out with Suzie. When she called to tell me she’d ended it I could have cried for you, really I could. And she said you were taking it badly and that what you were most worried about was spending Christmas alone. Well young man you don’t have to worry yourself about that anymore. Of course we’d love to have you here with us. It’s been so long. And all your little nieces and nephews will love having their favourite Uncle Alex around for a change to play with them. I’ve already called your sisters and it’s all set. A Collingwood family Christmas is just what you need to get yourself out of the doldrums.”
Alex sat opening and closing his mouth.
“But Mum …” he finally managed to sputter out as he stared red-faced at Suzie. “I was going to …”
“No buts young man, you are spending Christmas in the bosom of your family and that’s that. We’ll sort you out son. Soon have you back to your chipper self. Now I’ve got to go as your Dad’s taking me down to Sainsbury’s to get the pick of the crackers. I’ll call you later to see if you’ve had a good day. Chin up son. Bye.”
The phone went dead and for a moment there was silence in the room. Suzie hadn’t really thought forward to this point in the meeting. Her heart was still beating exceptionally fast but she could feel something else, sparked by the look of shock and dismay on Alex’s face. Something that felt distinctly like triumph, joy even. What she really wanted to do was stand in Alex’s face and let out a highly juvenile “Waaaaaaaaaah.” She glanced at Drew. His eyebrows were still AWOL but he was nodding and smiling approvingly whilst casting the odd nervous glance at Gareth.
“Continue,” barked Gareth suddenly breaking the silence as Alex continued to reel.
“What?” shrieked Alex. “But she’s …” he started.
“Stop,” said Gareth holding his hand up to Alex. “I said you could talk
when it was your turn. Now I want to see the rest of what she’s got. Carry on Suzie.”
“Okay,” she said. Not sacked yet, that had to be good. She pressed the button to move onto the next slide.
Lesson Two: Never ever use a text to break bad news
She reached down and picked up her mobile phone, pressed a few buttons then put it back on the table, folded her arms and smiled straight at Alex. A few seconds later his phone bleeped causing him to leap up in his chair like it was a time bomb.
“Aren’t you going to pick up your text then?” she asked.
“What, now?” he said.
“Now,” she found herself bellowing.
She’d never seen him so wary of the device that was normally either glued to his ear or his fingers. He picked it up cautiously and clicked the buttons necessary to open the text she’d sent him. He looked at her nervously before glancing down to read it. Less than a second later he’d dropped the phone on the floor as though it had burned him.
