Page 76 of What It's Like in Words
Summer sun flooded the skylight, and a candle made everything smell like mimosa. I felt tired, but it was nice, like I had taken a sleeping tablet and my muscles were relaxing. The shower clicked on, and I had an idea. I stripped and opened the bathroom door. He turned like a startled animal. What are you doing? I climbed into the bath. He said that he wasn’t big on shower sex. That the function of a shower was to get clean. I told him that there could be another function, and he played along, but mostly he looked uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if this was something I actually wanted or something I would have done in my last relationship to prove that I wasthatgirl. I went to climb out, but he held my waist. I didn’t say I wanted you to leave, Enola. Then he washed my hair for me.
Later we curled on the couch, and I dozed to the sound of himlaughing at a show about scientists. He nudged me awake when it was bedtime—which, as always, was at ten thirty—and we went to bed. He slept, and my brain activated with thoughts of my book. When it moved to other things, I took two painkillers and waited for the harder edges to soften.
CHAPTER 26
September was colder than it was last year. I pulled at my lilac jumper. When I’d dressed this morning, I thought about what Amy might wear, but the fabric scratched my skin and the color washed me out. Diana tapped her pen on the desk every time she articulated a thought.
Enola, I really think you need to introduce this character sooner.
Her perfume was light, but the whole room smelled like it. I couldn’t tell what the scent was. Citrus and jasmine? It was probably from one of those independent Covent Garden shops.
Enola?
Yes, I’m listening. Sorry!
Diana smiled and said that it had been a long summer. But we’re nearly there, I promise! She stood and went to the door. Let’s get you a coffee. She came back in and said that her intern would bring them. I was an intern once.
You started here as an intern?
She looked proud as she told me that she did. Then her left hand met her right, and she played with her diamond in a way that told me it was still a novelty for her to wear it. I fingered a red bookmark on her desk. She explained that her friend had bought it for her after she did a quiz that told her she was a Gryffindor. I remembered howhesaid that those quizzes were data collection. I had called him a Slytherin and he had called me a Huffletrout.
I told Diana that I got Ravenclaw, and she smiled and said that made sense.
A scruffy-haired twentysomething who looked like he went to private school put two coffees on the desk. Thanks, Toby. He glanced at the hardbacks on her shelf before he left.
Did I belong in this world? Everyone knew what they wanted and what steps they needed to take to get there. There was a photo on Diana’s desk of her parents looking happy and proud at her graduation. Last Wednesday, I had tried talking to Mum about my book, but all she wanted to talk about was how happy she was that I was dating a lawyer.
Diana sipped her coffee and shook her head in acknowledgment of a need for caffeine; then she asked if I had questions. There was really only one question: Would I be able to do this? For so long, all I’d wanted to do was to finish a book, and then it became about getting an agent, and now the goal posts had shifted. Now I wanted to get it published, but it seemed like that was something that happened to other people, like the ring on Diana’s finger.
Diana looked puzzled at my question. Youaredoing this, Enola.
I exhaled. Okay. When do you want the final draft?
Diana clicked her tongue and said that she’d ideally like it in two weeks, ready for the book fair in October. I told her that I would do my best, and, like a Gryffindor, she told me that she believed in me.
WHENIOPENED THEdoor with the key he gave me, Virinder was putting two preprepared training meals in the oven. I told him that I might skip dinner because I needed to write. He said that it was fine but proceeded to cite an article about working hours and animal types, concluding that I might find it easier to work in the morning. I told him that I had a shift at the café. He said that he was just trying to help, and then turned back to the oven. I put my hand on his back, but he stared at the hob. He mumbled that I had been writing for months, and he never saw me. You’re at work most of the day, I said gently.
Yes, but that’swork.
And writing ismywork. I don’t come to your office and tell you to spend more time with me.
But this is my flat, Enola, not your workplace!
I started to remind him that I had told him I didn’t have to work at his, but he pulled me to him and pressed my head against his chest. His jacket smelled like a new car. I’m sorry. Look, there’s something I—
I pulled back. What is it?
It’s nothing, but…
He inhaled like he was about to announce an award winner and then said: It’s just this new medication for my anxiety.
You’re on anxiety medication?
He nodded that he was. I asked why he hadn’t told me. He said that people treated him differently when they didn’t think he was perfect. I asked him why he had told me then, and he laughed.
Because you already know that I’m not perfect, Enola!
Other people would never acknowledge their limitations, let alone seek help, but if Virinder strained a muscle he would go to the physiotherapist; if he needed vitamin D, he would go on a sunbed; if he made a mistake, he would apologize. I kissed him and said that he was perfect. He asked what was perfect about him. I told him not to fish.
