Cathedral, the London Eye, the Houses of Parliament all overlooked it.
Emily always went for the sausage. They weren’t like the puny ones you got in fast food restaurant. The ones on sale at the market were large and meaty. It was an obvious joke, but one too good to resist. We played it out with different variations each time.
“No, you have the whole sausage, Em.”
“I don’t think I can manage the whole thing.” The tomato ketchup was dibbling down her chin as she spoke.
“I think you’ve bitten down on it so hard, you’ve made it bleed,” I said.
This cracked Emily up so much, she nearly choked on her sausage. As she’d started laughing, her head had jerked forward, plunging the sausage further into her mouth. I leapt forward and pulled it out before it went any further. She was laughing so much that tears were falling from her eyes.
“Thank you.” She choked and laughed at the same time.
“Sorry, Em. I didn’t think you’d start choking.”
“It was worth it. I must remember that one.”
Emily had trouble finishing off the sausage. Every time she brought it up to her mouth she began convulsing with laughter. I wasn’t helping, humming the music to the movie Jaws , whenever the sausage approached.
We carried on walking along the South Bank, past the National Film Theatre and the National Theatre.
Emily was divorced. She’d married when she was very young, eighteen years old. They’d seemed to be the perfect couple, like a couple of decorative figures on a wedding cake. I’ll always remember the wedding photographs. I’d never seen two happier people. At weddings, brides usually look pretty and grooms look handsome. The splendour of the event gives the main protagonists a serene glow. But these two had looked even happier than most. Emily looked like she had been born in a wedding dress. And Jim was so devoted to her, so attentive and dutiful.
But the marriage wasn’t a happy experience. I remember doing my best to help her through the divorce. But she didn’t need any help. Despite the fact that he had constantly cheated on her, she never took it to heart. That’s the great thing about Emily, she is so strong. Nothing fazes her. She was determined to enjoy the rest of her twenties.
But what Emily forgets is that not everybody is as strong as she is. Not everybody wants to get up from the canvas straight after being knocked down. Some of us like to lie there a while and take stock of our injuries.
“Did you know this was on?”
We were standing outside the Tate Modern, a huge art gallery devoted to modern art that used to be a power station. It’s large chimney and famous Turbine Hall have become iconic images of London.
Outside the gallery there were posters advertising an exhibition that was about to open. It featured the work of internationally renowned artist Carl Rask.
“I had no idea, Fay. I’m really sorry,” she said in a little girl’s voice.
I looked her in the eye. “You knew.”
She skewed her face one way then another, as if she were Mr Bean. I couldn’t stay mad at her for long.
“Stop it,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“You should call him.”
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“If you don’t call him, the love gods will be angry and they might bring down great fires on the earth.”
“No, they won’t.”
“The love gods can be particularly nasty when you offend them. They once delivered me a gorgeous man, a true beast of power, with the most heinous bad breath.”
Emily stopped messing around with her face. “Didn’t you even google him?” she asked.
“No. I made a particular point of not googling him. After our ‘date’, for want of a better word, I thought it best not to know anything about him. I’m just going to get on with my life. I don’t think he was interested in me. He just left me there on the jetty, remember.”
“But only because of Russell.” Emily sighed.
She had a good heart, was always trying to do good. But
Emily always went for the sausage. They weren’t like the puny ones you got in fast food restaurant. The ones on sale at the market were large and meaty. It was an obvious joke, but one too good to resist. We played it out with different variations each time.
“No, you have the whole sausage, Em.”
“I don’t think I can manage the whole thing.” The tomato ketchup was dibbling down her chin as she spoke.
“I think you’ve bitten down on it so hard, you’ve made it bleed,” I said.
This cracked Emily up so much, she nearly choked on her sausage. As she’d started laughing, her head had jerked forward, plunging the sausage further into her mouth. I leapt forward and pulled it out before it went any further. She was laughing so much that tears were falling from her eyes.
“Thank you.” She choked and laughed at the same time.
“Sorry, Em. I didn’t think you’d start choking.”
“It was worth it. I must remember that one.”
Emily had trouble finishing off the sausage. Every time she brought it up to her mouth she began convulsing with laughter. I wasn’t helping, humming the music to the movie Jaws , whenever the sausage approached.
We carried on walking along the South Bank, past the National Film Theatre and the National Theatre.
Emily was divorced. She’d married when she was very young, eighteen years old. They’d seemed to be the perfect couple, like a couple of decorative figures on a wedding cake. I’ll always remember the wedding photographs. I’d never seen two happier people. At weddings, brides usually look pretty and grooms look handsome. The splendour of the event gives the main protagonists a serene glow. But these two had looked even happier than most. Emily looked like she had been born in a wedding dress. And Jim was so devoted to her, so attentive and dutiful.
But the marriage wasn’t a happy experience. I remember doing my best to help her through the divorce. But she didn’t need any help. Despite the fact that he had constantly cheated on her, she never took it to heart. That’s the great thing about Emily, she is so strong. Nothing fazes her. She was determined to enjoy the rest of her twenties.
But what Emily forgets is that not everybody is as strong as she is. Not everybody wants to get up from the canvas straight after being knocked down. Some of us like to lie there a while and take stock of our injuries.
“Did you know this was on?”
We were standing outside the Tate Modern, a huge art gallery devoted to modern art that used to be a power station. It’s large chimney and famous Turbine Hall have become iconic images of London.
Outside the gallery there were posters advertising an exhibition that was about to open. It featured the work of internationally renowned artist Carl Rask.
“I had no idea, Fay. I’m really sorry,” she said in a little girl’s voice.
I looked her in the eye. “You knew.”
She skewed her face one way then another, as if she were Mr Bean. I couldn’t stay mad at her for long.
“Stop it,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“You should call him.”
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“If you don’t call him, the love gods will be angry and they might bring down great fires on the earth.”
“No, they won’t.”
“The love gods can be particularly nasty when you offend them. They once delivered me a gorgeous man, a true beast of power, with the most heinous bad breath.”
Emily stopped messing around with her face. “Didn’t you even google him?” she asked.
“No. I made a particular point of not googling him. After our ‘date’, for want of a better word, I thought it best not to know anything about him. I’m just going to get on with my life. I don’t think he was interested in me. He just left me there on the jetty, remember.”
“But only because of Russell.” Emily sighed.
She had a good heart, was always trying to do good. But
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