‘I’m meeting someone and I really can’t be late. I’m having lunch with the Sunday Review features editor in Soho.’
He looked puzzled. ‘But you can go, I don’t mind. I can just stay here and have my tea. I mean, it is …’
‘Yes I know, half your house .’ How infuriating he was. ‘But only on paper, not in reality for years and years. And besides, I’ll be double-locking the door, which would mean you couldn’t get out. I want to set the burglar alarm too.’
‘I think you’ll find that on paper still counts for something in law, Bella my darling. I can lock up for you if you give me the alarm code. Why don’t you just tell me where the spare keys are? Better still, why don’t you let me have one, now I’m back?’
Bella could feel her blood pressure soaring. If she wasn’t in such a hurry she’d pick a full-sized argument about this. ‘Because you might be “back” in the area but you’re not “back” in my life or my house. You don’t live here, James. You haven’t since the day you packed your belongings, left me and the children and took off with Miss Dental Hygiene all those years ago. You can’t just invade my space like this. What would you call it in your corporate-speak? Try to think of this as negative territory .’ James seemed confused; she must have used the term wrongly, not that it really meant a lot whichever way you used it.
‘I tell you what: if you really want to talk to me about this,’ she conceded, ‘you can give me a lift down to the station and then maybe, just maybe , I’ll think about looking at your house-detail selection.’ Well, it was true – she would. But only because it was always fun to see who was selling what and to look at pictures of other people’s domestic interiors.
Like a small boy promised an ice cream, James looked visibly cheered, and Bella managed to whoosh him out of the house, lock up swiftly and get him into his shiny new company Lexus.
‘You’d find it much easier to manage, being in a smaller place,’ James began as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway. ‘Lower bills, less space to heat, minimal upkeep.’ He turned to face her at the traffic lights and actually wagged an admonishing finger, telling her with deep seriousness as if discussing imminent death, ‘Because we’re not getting any younger, are we? Forward planning is the thing. You need to be considering a downstairs shower, a staircase broad enough for a stairlift, that kind of arrangement. It all needs some 360-degree thinking. Get the right choice and you might never have to move again.’
Bella couldn’t help laughing. ‘James, stop it! I haven’t even got to my mid-forties yet. Give me a break, will you? Next thing you’ll be herding me off to a south-coast retirement bungalow.’ James looked so serious, sopleased with himself for having all the answers to questions she hadn’t even thought of asking. ‘And don’t you think all this forward planning – which incidentally is a mad term, because what other sort is there? – all this planning is like wishing time away? I don’t intend to think about stairlifts and walk-in baths for years and years yet, please God. When I leave this house I might want to live in a loft apartment in Soho till I hit my dotage – or even during it – or over a funky shop on the Portobello Road.’
James carefully made a right turn into the station forecourt, tucking the car in neatly behind a convertible Golf in which a young and pretty couple were kissing frantically. Bella looked away; what she had seen of the boy looked a bit like Alex, whose love life was so closely guarded a mystery that she only assumed he had one from the swift goodbyes as he left the house at night muttering something like ‘seeing Manda/Ellie/Caro’. A recent spate of Henri/Charlie/George had had her wondering if he’d gone gay till Molly had put her right about their full – female – names.
‘You’d find both those options
He looked puzzled. ‘But you can go, I don’t mind. I can just stay here and have my tea. I mean, it is …’
‘Yes I know, half your house .’ How infuriating he was. ‘But only on paper, not in reality for years and years. And besides, I’ll be double-locking the door, which would mean you couldn’t get out. I want to set the burglar alarm too.’
‘I think you’ll find that on paper still counts for something in law, Bella my darling. I can lock up for you if you give me the alarm code. Why don’t you just tell me where the spare keys are? Better still, why don’t you let me have one, now I’m back?’
Bella could feel her blood pressure soaring. If she wasn’t in such a hurry she’d pick a full-sized argument about this. ‘Because you might be “back” in the area but you’re not “back” in my life or my house. You don’t live here, James. You haven’t since the day you packed your belongings, left me and the children and took off with Miss Dental Hygiene all those years ago. You can’t just invade my space like this. What would you call it in your corporate-speak? Try to think of this as negative territory .’ James seemed confused; she must have used the term wrongly, not that it really meant a lot whichever way you used it.
‘I tell you what: if you really want to talk to me about this,’ she conceded, ‘you can give me a lift down to the station and then maybe, just maybe , I’ll think about looking at your house-detail selection.’ Well, it was true – she would. But only because it was always fun to see who was selling what and to look at pictures of other people’s domestic interiors.
Like a small boy promised an ice cream, James looked visibly cheered, and Bella managed to whoosh him out of the house, lock up swiftly and get him into his shiny new company Lexus.
‘You’d find it much easier to manage, being in a smaller place,’ James began as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway. ‘Lower bills, less space to heat, minimal upkeep.’ He turned to face her at the traffic lights and actually wagged an admonishing finger, telling her with deep seriousness as if discussing imminent death, ‘Because we’re not getting any younger, are we? Forward planning is the thing. You need to be considering a downstairs shower, a staircase broad enough for a stairlift, that kind of arrangement. It all needs some 360-degree thinking. Get the right choice and you might never have to move again.’
Bella couldn’t help laughing. ‘James, stop it! I haven’t even got to my mid-forties yet. Give me a break, will you? Next thing you’ll be herding me off to a south-coast retirement bungalow.’ James looked so serious, sopleased with himself for having all the answers to questions she hadn’t even thought of asking. ‘And don’t you think all this forward planning – which incidentally is a mad term, because what other sort is there? – all this planning is like wishing time away? I don’t intend to think about stairlifts and walk-in baths for years and years yet, please God. When I leave this house I might want to live in a loft apartment in Soho till I hit my dotage – or even during it – or over a funky shop on the Portobello Road.’
James carefully made a right turn into the station forecourt, tucking the car in neatly behind a convertible Golf in which a young and pretty couple were kissing frantically. Bella looked away; what she had seen of the boy looked a bit like Alex, whose love life was so closely guarded a mystery that she only assumed he had one from the swift goodbyes as he left the house at night muttering something like ‘seeing Manda/Ellie/Caro’. A recent spate of Henri/Charlie/George had had her wondering if he’d gone gay till Molly had put her right about their full – female – names.
‘You’d find both those options
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