Read Online Monday to Friday Man by Alice Peterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alice Peterson
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surname. He is simply Guy, my dog-walking friend.
During August dog walkers dwindle in numbers because schools have broken up and families are on their summer holidays. I’ve missed Sam and Brigitte, but Mari, Ariel and Walter are rarely away from their posts.
Guy, now a fully accepted member of our club, joins us in our discussions about politics, films, the funny man who always comes into Mari’s shop asking for platters, the dogs’ latest diets and grooming styles, and of course the weather.
Guy has discovered a lot about me. He knows my sister Megan died and that my mother lives in Australia with her second husband, Patrick. The last time I saw her was when she flew home last Christmas to help with the wedding preparations. Do I miss her? Guy asked. Yes. When Ed left me, I saw the mother I’d loved as a child when she held me in her arms. I didn’t want her to go home.
I told him Mum lives in Perth and has inherited a second family from Patrick, who has two grown-up sons. ‘Why don’t you visit her out there?’ Guy suggested.
‘I’m happy she’s built a new life for herself,’ I said, ‘but I rely on her coming here to Nick and me . . . and to Dad. I don’t want to meet another family,’ I’d confessed. ‘One is enough.’
I have learnt that Guy left advertising and now runs his own landscape design company, ‘which means I’m a glorified gardener,’ he claimed modestly.
‘My friends think it’s daft too,’ he said when he saw I was smiling, ‘me wielding my hedge cutter.’
He has a sister, Rachel, who lives in the country. She’s a teacher and is engaged to a man twelve years older than her. I’ve talked to him about his girlfriend, Flora, and now understand their relationship isn’t quite so straightforward, in that she isn’t exactly on holiday; she bought a ticket to see the world and isn’t coming home until November. Flora is an artist and professional photographer. She freelances for some of the mainstream newspapers, but her dream is to have her own art gallery.
Why is she travelling on her own? Isn’t she lonely?
‘I asked her to marry me,’ Guy explained, ‘she said yes but that she needed time out to travel before she did the whole “settling down” thing, that she had to get it out of her system. It wasn’t quite the reaction I’d hoped for when I was down on bended knee.’ There was hurt and wounded pride behind his smile.
‘Ed and I were engaged. He left me, two weeks before the wedding.’
Guy readjusted his hat. ‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry.’
‘It was some time ago now,’ I nodded, ‘but you’re right. It was awful.’ I found myself telling him about it.
‘I’m so sorry, Gilly,’ he repeated again.
‘Me too. I had to return all my presents. I’ve always wanted a waffle-maker.’
He looked at me curiously, then smiled saying he was surprised I’d put a waffle-maker onto my list in the first place.
It’s strange how easy it is to talk to someone I haven’t known for long. I’ve told Guy things about my family that I didn’t even tell Edward. ‘It’s like stripping in front of strangers at the gym,’ I told him, ‘the less well I know someone the easier it is to show them my cellulite.’
Both Mari and Ariel sense something is going on between Guy and me. ‘Gilly,’ Ariel says, ‘any fool can see the way your eyes light up when he’s around.’
In the shop Mari quizzes me about Flora. ‘There’s no way I’d want to come between them,’ I tell her. Anna also asks me if I’m sure that there isn’t any attraction because I mention Guy on a daily basis, but I deny it, saying it is possible for men and women to be friends. ‘He’s not my type,’ I assure her. However, what I do know is true is that I’ve come to be disappointed if he’s not in the park; my morning just doesn’t have that same kick-start if I don’t see him.
‘I used to lodge with a man called Carl,’ Guy says. ‘That worked really well because every
During August dog walkers dwindle in numbers because schools have broken up and families are on their summer holidays. I’ve missed Sam and Brigitte, but Mari, Ariel and Walter are rarely away from their posts.
Guy, now a fully accepted member of our club, joins us in our discussions about politics, films, the funny man who always comes into Mari’s shop asking for platters, the dogs’ latest diets and grooming styles, and of course the weather.
Guy has discovered a lot about me. He knows my sister Megan died and that my mother lives in Australia with her second husband, Patrick. The last time I saw her was when she flew home last Christmas to help with the wedding preparations. Do I miss her? Guy asked. Yes. When Ed left me, I saw the mother I’d loved as a child when she held me in her arms. I didn’t want her to go home.
I told him Mum lives in Perth and has inherited a second family from Patrick, who has two grown-up sons. ‘Why don’t you visit her out there?’ Guy suggested.
‘I’m happy she’s built a new life for herself,’ I said, ‘but I rely on her coming here to Nick and me . . . and to Dad. I don’t want to meet another family,’ I’d confessed. ‘One is enough.’
I have learnt that Guy left advertising and now runs his own landscape design company, ‘which means I’m a glorified gardener,’ he claimed modestly.
‘My friends think it’s daft too,’ he said when he saw I was smiling, ‘me wielding my hedge cutter.’
He has a sister, Rachel, who lives in the country. She’s a teacher and is engaged to a man twelve years older than her. I’ve talked to him about his girlfriend, Flora, and now understand their relationship isn’t quite so straightforward, in that she isn’t exactly on holiday; she bought a ticket to see the world and isn’t coming home until November. Flora is an artist and professional photographer. She freelances for some of the mainstream newspapers, but her dream is to have her own art gallery.
Why is she travelling on her own? Isn’t she lonely?
‘I asked her to marry me,’ Guy explained, ‘she said yes but that she needed time out to travel before she did the whole “settling down” thing, that she had to get it out of her system. It wasn’t quite the reaction I’d hoped for when I was down on bended knee.’ There was hurt and wounded pride behind his smile.
‘Ed and I were engaged. He left me, two weeks before the wedding.’
Guy readjusted his hat. ‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry.’
‘It was some time ago now,’ I nodded, ‘but you’re right. It was awful.’ I found myself telling him about it.
‘I’m so sorry, Gilly,’ he repeated again.
‘Me too. I had to return all my presents. I’ve always wanted a waffle-maker.’
He looked at me curiously, then smiled saying he was surprised I’d put a waffle-maker onto my list in the first place.
It’s strange how easy it is to talk to someone I haven’t known for long. I’ve told Guy things about my family that I didn’t even tell Edward. ‘It’s like stripping in front of strangers at the gym,’ I told him, ‘the less well I know someone the easier it is to show them my cellulite.’
Both Mari and Ariel sense something is going on between Guy and me. ‘Gilly,’ Ariel says, ‘any fool can see the way your eyes light up when he’s around.’
In the shop Mari quizzes me about Flora. ‘There’s no way I’d want to come between them,’ I tell her. Anna also asks me if I’m sure that there isn’t any attraction because I mention Guy on a daily basis, but I deny it, saying it is possible for men and women to be friends. ‘He’s not my type,’ I assure her. However, what I do know is true is that I’ve come to be disappointed if he’s not in the park; my morning just doesn’t have that same kick-start if I don’t see him.
‘I used to lodge with a man called Carl,’ Guy says. ‘That worked really well because every
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