and a few swear words muttered under my breath I produce a sorry looking elephant with disproportionate ears, a wonky trunk and eyes placed too close together. Blair’s is, of course, picture perfect, arguably better than the instructors even, earning her plenty of praise when she comes round to inspect our efforts. I am given a pitiful look and an unconvincing consolation, “Yes you do OK, very good first time” she says, patting my shoulder and moving on quickly.
Blair and I turn to survey our handiwork, seeing mine and hers side by side, hers standing tall triumphantly, next to mine leaning because two legs are shorter than the others and seemingly squinting back at us, we can’t help but laugh.
The rest of the class is much the same, although I do manage to create one passable turtle by the end, which I’m so proud of I’m allowed to take it away with me, much to Blair’s amusement.
We go to the bar to wait for John, who should be back in an hour and get stuck into a jug of cocktails in the meantime, gossiping about all things girly, in the way only Blair does so well.
When John finally arrives an hour and a half later, we are quite tipsy and have just ordered a huge amount of food, having suddenly become starving hungry at the bottom of the second jug. We eat together and polish off another jug of cocktails, leaving Blair and myself positively drunk.
John does a sterling job of herding us to some shaded loungers to sleep it off, while he sits nearby and reads yesterday’s paper from his home town.
It’s 5pm before I stir, looking over, Blair is still asleep on the lounger next to me and John has moved to reading a novel. I stretch out, yawning, the move making it apparent that I’m still a little worse for wear. I apologise to John for being a bad influence on his wife, getting her plastered in the middle of the day, to which he responds fondly that the peace and quiet has been wonderful. Then I make my way back to face the music with Carlos.
I push the front door open and call out, but there’s no response; I do a quick circuit of the house just in case, but it’s all just how I left it this morning. Deflated I sit on the sofa and turn on the TV, a mounting dread building in my chest. I had been re-assured by Blair, letting myself hope that I would return to find the usual happy Carlos, but this can’t be a good sign?
He eventually returns around six, but it’s clear that absence has not made his heart grow fonder, as he stalks past me to the kitchen, only offering a meek ‘hi’ in my direction.
Anger replaces the dread, I’ve had enough of this, he’s acting like a petulant child and it’s got to stop, “For God’s sake Carlos, what is the matter?” I vent harshly, “and don’t you dare say nothing, because clearly something is bothering you”.
“It’s not, I’m fine” he snaps back.
“How is this fine?” my voice is raised now.
“Just leave it” he growls.
“You know what, I wish you would just man up and say it. You don’t want me here, we both know it, so just stop with the attitude! In fact I’ll make it easy for you and just pack my things up and I’ll be gone. Happy now?” I’m shouting the words, I’m sick of rejection, I’m sick of men. They’re all the same, too cowardly to do the right thing and be honest with you, so they just act like assholes until you do the hard work for them. Well I’ve had enough, this isn’t going to be me anymore!
I’m storming furiously towards the stairs when he grabs my arm, “Get off me!” I yell, snatching my arm away.
“Kate, wait a minute.” He pleads, but I’m too seething to stop.
“Kate…..Kaitlin! Will you just stop!” he bursts out, grabbing my arm again and turning me towards him.
“What?” I glare at him.
“It’s not like that” his tone is soft, as if he’s been wounded by my words. “I don’t want you to go, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It’s just……” he breaks off, lowering his head.
“Talk to me” I whisper, slowly leading him to the sofa and pulling him down to sit next to me. I wait silently for him to continue, intrigued to hear what could possibly