artist decided to help him out. I watched him from the kitchen as he hooked his fingers under the frames at the back and lifted them up like they were nothing, then carried them down the stairs with a weird sideways walk, like a crab.
I looked out of the window and watched him place them in his van. It looked like he was attaching something to the frames so they wouldn’t fall over while he drove along, though I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. As he drove off, I silently wished both paintings good luck.
When I meet Alexis in the pub, the first thing I notice is that she’s dyed her hair blonde. It suits her. The second thing I notice is that she’s about four months pregnant. I’m not the most observant person in the world.
We order drinks. I have a G&T; she has a Badoit with ice and lime. Despite myself, I’m mildly annoyed at this. When I go for a drink in a pub, I expect whoever I’m with to be drinking alcohol as well, even if they’re pregnant or on medication or have a serious allergy to alcohol.
We find a table near the window and look at each other. I smile at her.
‘So! You’re blonde now, then!’
She rubs her belly and takes a sip of her alcohol-free water. ‘Martin likes me to have blonde hair. He says it looks good on me.’
‘And Martin is…?’
‘Oh, of course. You wouldn’t know about him, would you. We must have met about six or seven months ago. It was all a bit sudden, but I knew that I wanted to get pregnant by him straight away. It was what he wanted, as well. He likes the way my body has been changing, too, so lots of bonking at the moment!’
Did she just say ‘I knew that I wanted to get pregnant by him straight away’? Can you imagine inflicting that on a man during your first date? ‘I know we’ve only just met, but I’d like to have your baby, if that’s OK with you.’ They’d run a mile.
‘So what does he do, this Martin?’
Apart from say ‘I like the way your body is changing.’ I don’t know why I’m asking about Martin’s job. I know it’s going to be something tedious. Alexis crosses and uncrosses her legs. She looks like she’s a little uncomfortable on the pub stool.
‘He’s a physiotherapist. He works for a couple of different health centres. He specialises in sport injuries.’
‘How did you…?’
‘I had a really bad sprain on my shoulder that didn’t want to go away.’
‘So you were one of his patients! How romantic!’
She laughs that tinkly laugh. ‘It’s lovely to be pregnant, Chloe. We’re so happy about it. I was getting that old biological clock anxiety. You know what it’s like at our age.’
She’s smiling all the time and it’s slightly unsettling. It’s as if she’s joined some religious cult and is extolling the virtues of abstaining from peanut butter and oral sex.
‘So when’s it due?’
‘The end of June, if everything goes to plan.’
A couple of guys stroll past us, giving sly glances at Alexis. I think it was the blonde hair that got their attention. When they see she’s pregnant they keep on strolling. How unadventurous of them!
‘So, er, you’re not getting married or anything like that?’
‘No. We haven’t discussed it at all. You know me. It doesn’t have much of an appeal.’
‘I guess not.’
‘What about you and Mark? Any plans for kids yet? You’ve been living together for god knows how long.’
‘Two years. No. No plans like that.’
She stares at me for a couple of seconds. ‘You don’t have to love someone to build a good life with them, you know.’
‘What?’
‘I mean, you know, it’s enough that you get on with someone. You like them, you sleep with them, you have similar interests, you run your lives together, you have kids and so on. I don’t think there has to be this mystical ‘love’ thing on top of it all, do you?’
‘Um – yes. Yes I do.’
‘But you don’t love Mark, do you. You never have. The only time I’ve ever seen you in love was when you were seeing that guy – what was his name? – the one who designed credit cards. It was some bizarre job like that wasn’t it?’
God almighty – I’d forgotten how blunt she could be.
‘You mean Hamish?’
‘Yes. That’s him. There was a magic in the air when you were with him, for want