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Authors: Sam Holden
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suspicions that she is going to be a
mathematician.)
'So then,' began Emily eventually, 'why are you
looking so down?'
'I didn't realise I was.'
'C'mon, you've got one of those very expressive
faces.'
'Have I?'
'YES! And now you're looking very quizzical!'
'I am?'
Emily snorted into her wine, and I could only join in
the laughter. As I did so, instant guilt, because it
occurred to me that Sally and I hadn't laughed like this
in ages. In fact, I'm finding it hard to remember when
we last had a good belly laugh, as good as the one I had
with Emily. I know it's unrealistic to think that one
should spend one's entire life cackling away, but even
so.
After the giggles, I soon admitted that the reason I
was down was because Sally was so against WonderHubby .
'But why?' asked Emily, sounding genuinely
mystified.
I told her.
'That's not very entrepreneurial of her,' said Emily.
I didn't know how to take this comment – it felt
uncomfortable having Emily (of all people) criticise
Sally, but it was nevertheless true.
'Well,' I said, 'she's just not a risk taker, and I am. She
doesn't get it at all. Thinks I should just be doing more
consultancy work, and she doesn't see that if this works,
then we're in clover.'
'Perhaps she doesn't want it to work.'
'Oh, she certainly doesn't.'
'How do you know?'
'She told me.'
Emily took a long draught of wine.
'Well,' she said, 'I think she's being terribly unfair.'
'So do I,' I replied, without thinking.
I felt even more guilty now. Not only was I having a
laugh with Emily, I was now also being disloyal to Sally.
I thought of her stuck in the office in London, the
problems of the world on her shoulders, her job a
matter of life and death, and here I was, slagging her off
in front of the village bicycle, who I still suspected was
saying all the right words to get into my pants.
Emily interrupted my guilt.
'Can't you just say that you're going to do it anyway,
and that if it all goes tits up, then you can go back to
consultancy?'
'Well, that's pretty much how I'm playing it. It just
doesn't make for an easy time, that's all.'
'I can see that,' said Emily.
'You can?'
'That face again.'
I looked at her steadily, trying to seem impassive.
'Now that,' she said coquettishly, 'is a different sort of
face.'
'What sort of face is it?'
'I'm not sure,' she smirked. 'But I don't mind it at
all.'
Holy cow. I was quickly feeling out of my depth again,
very reminiscent of THAT dinner. I tried moving the
subject back to WonderHubby .
'Do you really think it's a good idea?' I asked.
Emily held my gaze.
'I think it's an excellent idea.'
She moved a little closer.
'Not too risky?'
'Life's no fun without risk.'
I nodded, telling myself that I could handle the
situation.
'But what if doesn't work out?' I asked.
'I'm sure it will, and besides, if it doesn't, then I know
you'll have had a lot of fun.'
Emily was really standing very close, and she looked
up at me.
'So,' she said, 'why don't you just go for it?'
'You know,' I said, 'I think I will.'
Emily then reached up her left hand and started
stroking the back of my head. Nearly every chemical
that my brain was capable of producing surged through
my system, chemicals that contradicted and fought
against each other, some willing me to give in, some
urging me to get the hell out of there as soon as
possible, and some simply insisting that I was extremely
dim-witted for not realising that she wasn't talking
about WonderHubby . As the hormones waged their war, I
stood paralysed, my body waiting for my decision.
Meanwhile, Emily was pulling my head towards her, and
standing on tiptoe as she strained to connect our
mouths.
'Um.'
At first, that was pretty much all I managed to say. My
head strained against Emily's grip, but still she pulled
me towards her.
'Emily!'
'Come on Sam,' she whispered. 'Let's just go for it.'
'It's very nice that you want . . .'
'Sshhh!'
By now I could feel her breath on my lips.
'Emily! Stop
mathematician.)
'So then,' began Emily eventually, 'why are you
looking so down?'
'I didn't realise I was.'
'C'mon, you've got one of those very expressive
faces.'
'Have I?'
'YES! And now you're looking very quizzical!'
'I am?'
Emily snorted into her wine, and I could only join in
the laughter. As I did so, instant guilt, because it
occurred to me that Sally and I hadn't laughed like this
in ages. In fact, I'm finding it hard to remember when
we last had a good belly laugh, as good as the one I had
with Emily. I know it's unrealistic to think that one
should spend one's entire life cackling away, but even
so.
After the giggles, I soon admitted that the reason I
was down was because Sally was so against WonderHubby .
'But why?' asked Emily, sounding genuinely
mystified.
I told her.
'That's not very entrepreneurial of her,' said Emily.
I didn't know how to take this comment – it felt
uncomfortable having Emily (of all people) criticise
Sally, but it was nevertheless true.
'Well,' I said, 'she's just not a risk taker, and I am. She
doesn't get it at all. Thinks I should just be doing more
consultancy work, and she doesn't see that if this works,
then we're in clover.'
'Perhaps she doesn't want it to work.'
'Oh, she certainly doesn't.'
'How do you know?'
'She told me.'
Emily took a long draught of wine.
'Well,' she said, 'I think she's being terribly unfair.'
'So do I,' I replied, without thinking.
I felt even more guilty now. Not only was I having a
laugh with Emily, I was now also being disloyal to Sally.
I thought of her stuck in the office in London, the
problems of the world on her shoulders, her job a
matter of life and death, and here I was, slagging her off
in front of the village bicycle, who I still suspected was
saying all the right words to get into my pants.
Emily interrupted my guilt.
'Can't you just say that you're going to do it anyway,
and that if it all goes tits up, then you can go back to
consultancy?'
'Well, that's pretty much how I'm playing it. It just
doesn't make for an easy time, that's all.'
'I can see that,' said Emily.
'You can?'
'That face again.'
I looked at her steadily, trying to seem impassive.
'Now that,' she said coquettishly, 'is a different sort of
face.'
'What sort of face is it?'
'I'm not sure,' she smirked. 'But I don't mind it at
all.'
Holy cow. I was quickly feeling out of my depth again,
very reminiscent of THAT dinner. I tried moving the
subject back to WonderHubby .
'Do you really think it's a good idea?' I asked.
Emily held my gaze.
'I think it's an excellent idea.'
She moved a little closer.
'Not too risky?'
'Life's no fun without risk.'
I nodded, telling myself that I could handle the
situation.
'But what if doesn't work out?' I asked.
'I'm sure it will, and besides, if it doesn't, then I know
you'll have had a lot of fun.'
Emily was really standing very close, and she looked
up at me.
'So,' she said, 'why don't you just go for it?'
'You know,' I said, 'I think I will.'
Emily then reached up her left hand and started
stroking the back of my head. Nearly every chemical
that my brain was capable of producing surged through
my system, chemicals that contradicted and fought
against each other, some willing me to give in, some
urging me to get the hell out of there as soon as
possible, and some simply insisting that I was extremely
dim-witted for not realising that she wasn't talking
about WonderHubby . As the hormones waged their war, I
stood paralysed, my body waiting for my decision.
Meanwhile, Emily was pulling my head towards her, and
standing on tiptoe as she strained to connect our
mouths.
'Um.'
At first, that was pretty much all I managed to say. My
head strained against Emily's grip, but still she pulled
me towards her.
'Emily!'
'Come on Sam,' she whispered. 'Let's just go for it.'
'It's very nice that you want . . .'
'Sshhh!'
By now I could feel her breath on my lips.
'Emily! Stop
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