Read Online My Last Confession by Helen Fitzgerald - Free Book Online
Authors: Helen Fitzgerald
Ads: Link
crammed in an inordinate number of battery-induced orgasms and we’d started to consider ways to one day integrate Chas into the procedure.
But when I got home that night, our happy loving routine flew out the window.
‘Jesus!’ I said instead of hello. ‘Why is the hall wall covered in cake mix?’
‘It’s not cake mix,’ Chas said. ‘We were making a potion!’
‘The washing basket is overflowing, there’s no food in the fridge. And why haven’t you asked me to marry you?’
‘Do you want to get married?’ Chas asked. ‘If you want to, then we can,’ he said, which put me on the defensive.
Confusing myself as much as Chas, I told him of course I didn’t want to get married. Who needs a bit of paper? Marriage was old fashioned and a sure way to stuff up a good thing and anyway, what sort of girl hangs around waiting for a guy to ask her, like that’s the only way it canhappen? ‘It’s pathetic!’ I said, with a tone that made Chas wish he’d been gay.
I did synchronised huffing, tidying and apologising, and in the end Chas did the sensible thing and went for a walk while I put Robbie to bed and filled my stomach with the (cleverly hidden) dinner he’d made. And even though pizza didn’t warrant meal-status like the leg of lamb I’d been dreaming about all day, the one I’d asked him to take out of the freezer and cook with rosemary, it filled a void. So by the time Chas got home I was ready to give him a huff-free apology.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ I said. ‘I’m crazy, aren’t I?’
‘A bit.’
‘I met this woman today and she started talking about her wedding, and I felt all gooey about it. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not me.’
‘I like it when you’re all gooey,’ he said, kissing my neck.
‘But it’s not me, is it, Chas? I think my job’s upsetting me. God, the stories I hear are unbelievable,’ I said, filling him in on my cases so far. ‘And being full-time sucks. We’ve no time to have fun, have we? I don’t blame you if you go off me.’
He sat me down.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘The whole idea of a love story being “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back” is bollocks. It’s not a line that starts then ends. It’s a circle. You meet, you lose, you meet, you lose, you meet and it goes on and on, round and round. We’re meeting each other again just now. Learning new stuff. I’m trying to put an exhibition together. You’ve just started a really difficult job and you miss Robbie, and I’m pleased tomeet you, Krissie! I’m going to learn something new about you, and I’m going to fall in love with you all over again.’
I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about with all his circles and lines. God, sometimes living with an artist was exhausting.
‘I don’t think my bad mood is really about us, Chas. I’m just worried about the pre-trial report case, Jeremy. He’s being beaten, maybe even raped, and I don’t know who to tell.’
‘Don’t get emotionally involved,’ he told me. ‘Ask any doctor or psychiatrist … it’s the rule.’ He knew what he was talking about, after his stint in Sandhill.
‘The prison oozes tragedy. The trick is to not let it seep into you. You have to keep a distance. When I was there, I sometimes imagined a protective shield surrounded me … like Get Smart’s cone of silence or Violet Incredible’s spherical force field. Sounds daft, but it worked. Look after number one,’ he said, ‘and two and three. That’s us, this family. Okay?’
‘Okay. I promised I’d go see his wife again tomorrow … But I’ll take my protective cone.’
‘Who’d you promise?’
‘Her.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s upset.’
‘No social worker visited my girlfriend twice when I was due in court.’
‘Did you have a girlfriend?’ Chas had always been very vague about his exes. I knew he used to shag around a lot, but he told me he never got too involved with anyone ’cause he was ‘waiting
But when I got home that night, our happy loving routine flew out the window.
‘Jesus!’ I said instead of hello. ‘Why is the hall wall covered in cake mix?’
‘It’s not cake mix,’ Chas said. ‘We were making a potion!’
‘The washing basket is overflowing, there’s no food in the fridge. And why haven’t you asked me to marry you?’
‘Do you want to get married?’ Chas asked. ‘If you want to, then we can,’ he said, which put me on the defensive.
Confusing myself as much as Chas, I told him of course I didn’t want to get married. Who needs a bit of paper? Marriage was old fashioned and a sure way to stuff up a good thing and anyway, what sort of girl hangs around waiting for a guy to ask her, like that’s the only way it canhappen? ‘It’s pathetic!’ I said, with a tone that made Chas wish he’d been gay.
I did synchronised huffing, tidying and apologising, and in the end Chas did the sensible thing and went for a walk while I put Robbie to bed and filled my stomach with the (cleverly hidden) dinner he’d made. And even though pizza didn’t warrant meal-status like the leg of lamb I’d been dreaming about all day, the one I’d asked him to take out of the freezer and cook with rosemary, it filled a void. So by the time Chas got home I was ready to give him a huff-free apology.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ I said. ‘I’m crazy, aren’t I?’
‘A bit.’
‘I met this woman today and she started talking about her wedding, and I felt all gooey about it. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not me.’
‘I like it when you’re all gooey,’ he said, kissing my neck.
‘But it’s not me, is it, Chas? I think my job’s upsetting me. God, the stories I hear are unbelievable,’ I said, filling him in on my cases so far. ‘And being full-time sucks. We’ve no time to have fun, have we? I don’t blame you if you go off me.’
He sat me down.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘The whole idea of a love story being “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back” is bollocks. It’s not a line that starts then ends. It’s a circle. You meet, you lose, you meet, you lose, you meet and it goes on and on, round and round. We’re meeting each other again just now. Learning new stuff. I’m trying to put an exhibition together. You’ve just started a really difficult job and you miss Robbie, and I’m pleased tomeet you, Krissie! I’m going to learn something new about you, and I’m going to fall in love with you all over again.’
I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about with all his circles and lines. God, sometimes living with an artist was exhausting.
‘I don’t think my bad mood is really about us, Chas. I’m just worried about the pre-trial report case, Jeremy. He’s being beaten, maybe even raped, and I don’t know who to tell.’
‘Don’t get emotionally involved,’ he told me. ‘Ask any doctor or psychiatrist … it’s the rule.’ He knew what he was talking about, after his stint in Sandhill.
‘The prison oozes tragedy. The trick is to not let it seep into you. You have to keep a distance. When I was there, I sometimes imagined a protective shield surrounded me … like Get Smart’s cone of silence or Violet Incredible’s spherical force field. Sounds daft, but it worked. Look after number one,’ he said, ‘and two and three. That’s us, this family. Okay?’
‘Okay. I promised I’d go see his wife again tomorrow … But I’ll take my protective cone.’
‘Who’d you promise?’
‘Her.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s upset.’
‘No social worker visited my girlfriend twice when I was due in court.’
‘Did you have a girlfriend?’ Chas had always been very vague about his exes. I knew he used to shag around a lot, but he told me he never got too involved with anyone ’cause he was ‘waiting
Similar Books
