‘So what exactly are we’re going to do when we’ve saved up all the money, at the end of the five year plan?’
‘You know,’ he said grabbing a fork and starting on another dish. ‘We’ll buy a place, live together.’ He paused and looked at me. ‘Live the dream.’
‘What’s your dream?’ I asked.
‘Being with you,’ he said. ‘You know. Marriage, kids and stuff, all of that. We can do what we want.’
‘How romantic. Is that a proposal?’ I said.
‘If you like,’ he laughed.
‘When?’
‘When we have the savings. When the five years are up. Going to grab a shower, yeah?’ he said.
I headed off to bed feeling exhausted and was dozing off when Connor returned from the bathroom, got under the covers and went to sleep.
‘Happy bloody anniversary,’ I said to him.
*
Connor was taking up the whole of the bed in the morning and I knew he wouldn’t surface until noon so I sloped off to the living room and began the day lying on the sofa watching Country Tracks, wishing I hadn’t had that last glass of wine last night.
After Connor had gnawed the corners off all my food last night, I would have another day’s cooking ahead of me, rustling up some new creations for the week. Maybe Connor would let me use his precious car to go to Waitrose for some posh ingredients. I was still cross with him for missing our anniversary dinner and not calling, but after I’d slept on it I felt happy that at least he’d said he wanted to marry me, even if it was the most half-hearted proposal ever. At least he was trying.
The landline phone ringing startled me, but at least I knew who it was. ‘Hello, Mum.’ Who else uses the landline?
‘Have you forgotten you’re to come to dinner?’
‘No, of course I haven’t.’ I had.
‘I bet you’re not even dressed, are you? Is Connor with you? Will he be bringing you in that lovely car of his?’ I could hear the exasperation in her voice.
‘Yes, he’s here, and we’re leaving now, in fact.’ I lied again as I struggled out of my pyjamas.
‘Oh, how lovely,’ she said. ‘I’ll be delighted to see him. You’ve got a real winner there. A real winner!’ I actually thought at one point she might even applaud.
‘Yep. Really lovely, Mum. Have to go, I’ll see you in a bit.’ I hung up and ran up the stairs to Connor.
‘Wake up,’ I shouted on the way up the stairs. ‘We have to go to Mum and Dad’s.’
He stirred under the duvet, his brand new haircut had messed up during the night.
‘Come back to bed,’ he said.
‘I can’t, we have to go, come on get up.’
‘I’ve got a meeting,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to go as soon as my washing is dry. Will you stick it in the dryer for me?’
‘As soon as your washing is dry?’ I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. Just when I had decided to be a little more sympathetic about his long working hours and putting his lack of contact down to forgetfulness, he came out with this.
‘Is that all you’ve come here for, to get your washing done and somewhere to kip for the night? You absolute utter knob head.’
I dashed back down the stairs, pulled all of his still wet washing out the machine into the basket and ran back up the stairs as fast as I could. Then I tipped the big pile of wet clothes all over the bed.
‘Here’s your bloody washing!’ I said.
‘Don’t be like that Fi,’ he said, struggling to get out from underneath. ‘I didn’t mean it that way.’
‘Well how did you mean it then?’ I said. ‘What could you possibly mean other than you’re treating the place like a hotel? I don’t see you for a week and then you turn up with your shiny car, your hundred pound haircut, and your crap proposal.’
‘Come on Fiona, please?’ he said, standing up. ‘I want you to help me out a bit.’
‘And I want you to make an effort,’ I said, thinking about how if I did have four cats, they wouldn’t expect me to do their washing for them.
‘I’ll make an effort, I promise, give me a chance. It’s almost September, things will quieten down soon,’ he pleaded with me.
‘I have to go,’ I said, turning and leaving the room.
‘At least let me give you a lift,’ he said.
Despite not wanting to be anywhere near him, I did want to get to Mum’s on time, so I reluctantly agreed. But I ignored him the whole way there.
‘Look, I’ll be back later,’ he said as I was getting out of the car ‘I promise.’
‘I don’t want you to come back later,’ I said and I slammed the door on the car.
Connor used to be such a big part of my plan. I knew people said relationships weren’t easy, but it felt like ours was hard work all the time. At times it was so awkward, like I didn’t know him at all, not like I’d spent five years with him. And I didn’t want it to be hard work, I wanted it to be easy and fun and to be with someone who made me laugh, and who looked after me. Someone I felt safe with. As it was, Connor had now become another one of the things that was not going right with my five year plan. That and the fact that my five year plan had so far taken six years…
*
Why do people insist on having a roast dinner whatever the weather, just because it’s Sunday? Blisteringly hot outside and my parent’s kitchen was like a sauna. All the windows were steamed up after excessive vegetable boiling in The Massive Saucepan.
I‘m not entirely sure where I developed a love of cooking from, but it probably had something to do with that saucepan.
‘Can we open the back door, at least?’ I asked.
‘No, we’ll have next door’s cat after the roast.’ Mum insisted.
‘Makes a change from rice pudding,’ said Dad, putting his Sunday paper down.
Mum didn’t get it. Me and Dad both laughed as Mum attempted to remove blackened Yorkshires from an oven tray.
‘Where’s that poser of a boyfriend, then?’
‘Working,’ I said, not wanting to think about him or get Mum started on how marvellous he was again. I was still seething with him.
‘Never done a decent day’s work in his life, I bet’ Dad muttered. Dad wasn’t in the Connor fan club like Mum was.
‘Oh what a thing to say!’ said Mum, ‘Fiona’s done herself proud managing to catch someone like Connor. I wonder when you will get married. Maybe you could do what Brendan and Katie next door did and get married abroad.’
She was spooning peas onto the plate now, rapidly.
‘Careful with those peas Maureen,’ Dad said.
She ignored him and carried on piling peas until they were reaching critical mass.
‘I don’t think he’s that keen anyway,’ I said, wondering if he was planning to ask me properly. A proper proposal.
‘Don’t be silly Fiona, I am sure he will be asking you any day now.’
‘Now they’re back from their honeymoon, Brendan and Katie are