Read Online Comfort and Joy by India Knight - Free Book Online Page B

yogurt to that extent, Sophie.’
    She smiles again. ‘No, not that. He says that if we let our sex life fall by the wayside now, it’ll be the thin edge of the
     wedge. And that we must get back in the saddle properly. Gosh, I’m speaking like your mother-in-law. And I am willing, it’s
     not that. The body is willing, but the spirit is weak. The spirit is just
so tired
.’
    I don’t think this is the time to share my theory about putting out with Sophie. And besides, it’s all becoming clear now.
     Sophie has turned herself into some kind of domestic goddess to compensate for the fact that she needs to be asleep by 9 p.m.;
     Tim is drooling all over Hope because he’s sexually frustrated and pleased to have someone flirt with him: it means he’s perceived
     as more than Dad Man. Hope is letting Tim drool on her because she thinks it means she’s more attractive than his wife, and
     that’s the kind of reassurance she needs, because she’s Needy McNeedpants. Hope would kill for Sophie’s marriage and three
     children: it’s all she wants. Sophie would kill for a bit of me-time and to have her job back and for Hope’s wardrobe and
     enviably flat stomach. Everybody wants what they can’t have: it’s the dance of early middle age, and we’re all doing it. What
     freaks me out is that I don’t see any way out: everybody’s going to keep on doing it until they either drop dead or admit
     defeat. And even then – admitting defeat only
means trying again later, with somebody else and no guarantees that anything is ever going to pan out differently.
    Jake, who has smoked most of the joint, seems the least stoned. He now turns his attention to Hope, staring rather off-puttingly
     at her giggling with Tim, until she senses his gaze and is forced to look him in the eye.
    ‘Hope, darling,’ Jake says, conversationally. ‘Why are you flirting with this poor woman’s husband?’
    It’s one of those moments when every conversation taking place around the table coincidentally ends at the same time, and
     Jake’s words ring out as loudly and clearly as a bell, except it’s more gloomy tolling than jaunty peals.
    ‘Not flirting,’ says Hope. ‘Being friendly. I’m just being myself, Jake.’
    ‘Why don’t we swap places,’ I say. ‘Hope, come and sit next to Tamsin.’
    ‘Don’t want to change places,’ says Tim. ‘Want to stay here with the sexy lady …’
    He is interrupted by the ringing of Sophie’s phone. ‘Damn,’ she says, looking at the screen. ‘Babysitter.’ A quick conversation
     establishes that our neighbours need to get home to attend to their youngest child, who has woken up and is refusing to go
     back to sleep.
    ‘Why don’t you go, Tim?’ Sophie says, with a glint in her eye that wasn’t there before. ‘I’ll be along in a while.’
    ‘What?’ says Tim.
    ‘Why don’t you go? Pay her – here, I’ve got cash – and sort Bee out and I’ll come home in half an hour or so.’
    ‘Me?’ says Tim.
    ‘Yes,’ says Sophie. ‘You.’
    ‘But … why?’ says Tim.
    ‘Because your daughter’s awake, and one of us needs to get home.’ She says this very calmly.
    ‘You,’ says Tim.
    ‘Not tonight, Tim. Not me. You.’
    ‘I don’t want to,’ says Tim. ‘Drunk.’
    ‘You’ll be fine. She’s not ill. I’ll be home soon. All you have to do is lie down with Bee for a while. Take her into our
     bed.’
    ‘Might squash her. Squashed baby!’
    ‘Go and look after your daughter,’ says Tamsin. ‘We’ll miss you, obviously. But …’
    ‘Are you a feminist?’ says Tim. ‘Yes, you are. A big scary feminist lady. Brr! Hoo!’ He takes a gulp of the fresh cup of coffee
     Sam has placed in front of him, and winces. ‘Sophie,’ he wails. ‘Soph.’
    ‘Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been out to dinner with new people?’ Sophie asks her husband in the same calm voice,
     rhetorically as it turns out. ‘Five months. Five months, Tim. And those new