My messy place

I’d been in a relationship with Paul for two years and as it was going well, we really did like each other and we wanted to be in the same place most of the time.

Living between two great cities has been exciting at first. It was that element of having the best bits of both worlds: enjoying our own space during the week but then the excitement of all the fun you would have together at the weekends in either city.

But getting on a train from Oxford to London or vice versa late on a Sunday night only to have the train cancelled and a bus replacement put on or having to set off early on the Monday morning to get to the office on time had lost its appeal.

We had loved the magic of being between two great cities and referring to each other’s homes as our ‘second homes’. The romanticism of Oxford. Living close to the river Cherwell with a view of the rowers emerging from the morning mist. There was nothing quite like it. A short skip and a jump and we were in Christ Church meadows. Lazy Sunday mornings in bed and then heading out for a stroll, popping to one of the ancient pubs and then home for an afternoon’s enjoyment of each other. Life in London usually involved plenty of culture. Friday night plays in the West End or popping to RADA to watch the next hot young thing be ‘found’ by an eager agent and then the excitement when we saw them in a Hollywood film. ‘We saw them before they were anyone’ we’d let friends know.

And then there was always the big social event of the weekend in London: rugby. Paul had hesitantly agreed to be captain for the third team at Hampstead rugby club. He would frantically try to finalise the team on Friday evening for the next day’s play. Always calling the same people to confirm ‘pickup, Dave! Dave, it’s Paul. Are you about tomorrow afternoon? No? you’re at a christening. What about your housemate? Has he played rugby? Not since school. Ok. But what, he’s there with you and will give it a shot. Great, tell him to dust off his boots and meet us at 1 on the Hampstead training ground.’

On Saturday mornings, cappuccino in hand, I would stroll up to the heath, having a gander at some of the beautiful shops on the way. Always startled by the starting prices for a studio apartment. As I got closer to the pitches, I’d hope that I wasn’t the only girlfriend to turn up. The games were always entertaining. I’d spend a lot of time trying to refrain from shouting ‘come on honey bunny’ but on the occasion that I did utter such embarrassing words, Paul would be ribbed by his teammates and chums in The White Pony later. It was amazing to watch such a strange group come together: builders;carpenters; investment bankers; lawyers; filmmakers, all with the high possibility of limping away with a black eye or cauliflower ear. One of Paul’s pals Tom used to run in the opposite direction if there was any chance, he’d be seriously hurt ‘come on old boys, some of us have got chambers on Monday.’ It was all incredibly hilarious.

After two years of back and forth, parting became more than ‘sweet sorrow’ it became a royal pain in the arse, so we came up with it’s a plan. Both of us look for jobs in the others cities and we would weigh up the options. Paul applied for jobs in Oxford and despite three rounds of interview for one research company, the ‘verbal offer’ didn’t materialise in paper and our dream of living together in Oxford didn’t happen at that time. I had a lot of experience in marketing and publishing and so at that point knew I could probably relatively easily get a job in London. My friends and I had joked about ‘contracting the rage’ at the thought of moving to the big smoke but actually after a few rounds of interviews with a large publisher, I was offered a good role in the marketing department and Paul, and I started to plan living together in London. 

And now the years have passed and after five moves together we are now settled close to the beach in north Cornwall with our 8-year-old son and 9-month-old pup. 

Aah the joys of domesticity. One of the conversations we’ve always had/ debated/ discussed/ argued about over the years has been the subject of ‘tidyness’. I had always said that my ‘messiness’ was a sign of creativity to which Paul would say ‘well fine, put that creativity into a bestselling novel’ but over the years I had appreciated that Paul was neat, and I was never clearing up after him. In college I had a boyfriend, and we had lived together for a short time. I would spend hours tidying up our space and he would continue to just throw all of his dirty laundry on the floor of our bedroom assuming I would tidy up after him. Thoughtless.

Nowadays, I allow myself one cupboard which is my messy place I throw shoes, bags, books, all sorts of paperwork, tax return , pension information into this space and I know it’s there when I feel like tidying up a bit. My granny Lulu used to do the same when I called her.

‘What are you up to nana?’

‘Well you know I need to clear out those drawers upstairs.’

I’d often pop to see her for tea and a chat and I’d find her upstairs pulling things out just to reorder them. I suspect having to keep herself busy. Then as her sight started to deteriorate, she’d continue to pull things out, feeling her way around edges and then sometimes ask me ‘are these the hankies in the box I had for Christmas?’ I would sometimes fib when I knew they were in fact a packet of socks because I knew how frustrating she found the independence she was losing was getting to her. If she found one of grandad’s ties, she’d hold it for a long time gazing into space and then bring it to her nose to smell.

Anyway, it’s Saturday afternoon and in true family style, we’ve just come back from a lovely long walk around the woods and a trip to the pub for lunch and now we all run into our own spaces for some quiet time. As it’s the New Year, I do want to start pulling things out of my cupboard to see what I can reorganize. I’ve got three old box files stuffed to the brim with photos from all over the place. Why don’t I sit down and put these in albums? I quite like pulling out these memories in such a haphazard manner. What do we have here? Photos from a summer ball. Goodness what was I wearing? No bra. Why did I think that was a good look? Oh, what’s this? Oh yes Matt on the bucking bronco? What’s this? My college diaries….I’ll just take a quick look.

September 20, 1996

I’m walking into the college hall for breakfast all on my own and never have I felt so self-conscious. At least at school we’d all go in together and I’d chat in the line to friends. It’s ok I can do this. Oh here’s the queue.

‘Would you like a tray?’ A pretty Indian girl turns to me with a huge smile on her face.

‘Oh, thank you’

‘I’m Mel.’

‘Hi Mel. I’m Alice.’

‘Scary, isn’t it?’

‘Just a bit’

‘You’ll be fine. I’m going to have a full English.’

‘Yum, yes I think I’ll grab some fruit and yoghurt.’

‘Come and join me if you like? I’ll grab some tea. Would you like one?’

‘Oh yes lovely thanks.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘A little town in Cornwall. Bude. Have you heard of it?’

‘No I only know Padstow. We went there once on a family holiday. We scoffed pasties and cream teas.’

‘Ha. Well, that’s what we’re known for. Where are you from?

‘Leytonstone, east London. Can’t you tell by my accent?’

‘I’m not very good with placing accents.’

‘What are you reading?’

‘English literature.’

‘Oh yes me too. How exciting.’

‘Yes, I hope so.’

‘Can I tell you a secret?’

‘Of course. What?’

‘I think I’ve already met the one.’

‘The one?’

‘Yes. There was a chapel service last night and in walked a group of American exchange students. One of them looks exactly like Jared Leto He is so dreamy.’

‘I loved that show…was it called my so called life? Brilliant.’

‘Oh goodness look he’s coming over….’

Said beautiful boy approaches their table.

‘Hey, Good morning. Would it be ok if I sit here?.’

Mel looks down at her breakfast and tries to cover up the fried food with her tissue.

‘Of course. I’m Alice and this is Mel.’

‘Hey, I’m Pete.

‘Where are you from Pete?’

‘Florida.’

‘Nice. Disney.’ Instantly regretting that.

‘Yep Disney.’

‘How long are you here?’

‘Just the semester.’

‘Cool’

******

7pm, JCR bar

Alice and Mel walk in together. Mel becomes quite agitated.

‘I probably shouldn’t stay out for too long.’

‘It’ll be ok Mel’

‘My parents are calling me at 8’

‘Oh, come on they’ll understand. First night as a fresher.’

‘No, they won’t. My parents are incredibly strict. Look I better get going, just in case they call early.’

‘Mel, you can’t abandon me.’

Mel walks off.

‘Great. Well I better get a pint in then.’

‘Oh hey, it’s Alice isn’t it?

‘Oh hi Pete.’

‘Is your friend ok?’

‘I don’t know.’

’Come and join us if you want?’

‘Oh thanks, I may do’

I ordered my pint, perused the bar and saw someone looking over with a disturbing grin so decided to find Pete.

‘Hey, do you mind if I come and join you?’

‘Of course’

‘Guys this is Alice. Alice, this is Laura, Molly, Dan and Matt.’

‘Hi. Cheers!’

I had a great time chatting to everyone. I noticed Molly kept leaning into Pete and touching him on the knee. Well, they clearly most be together. They’re both so beautiful.

Shakespeare lecture, 9am

‘I love Tim. I love the way he says hegemony.’

‘Oh, Claire you are funny.’

‘How were your parents, Mel?’

‘Oh you know the same. They told me what they had for dinner and told me all about my nephews and nieces and how brilliant they are. They’re coming up at the weekend to take me for lunch.’

‘Really? But it’s the fresher’s ball on Saturday. I was hoping we could find some accessories together if you fancied?’

‘I would have loved to.’

‘Why don’t you say you’re off to a lecture on Saturday night with me and you need to prepare to ask some superb questions.’

‘That’s a good idea. My sister’s husband was at college here and he frequently went to debates on a Saturday. Perfect!’

‘Great’

On heading back to my room, I bumped into Laura, one of Pete’s friends.

‘Hey Laura, how are you doing?’

‘I’m good thanks. How are you? Are you coming to the ball on Saturday?’

‘I am. Exciting. Not sure what to wear but have a few options.’

‘I have one formal dress. Not sure if it’ll fit with all that beer I’ve been throwing back but it’ll do.’

‘Ha! I know. What do they call it? The fresher 15?’

‘You don’t need to worry. I’ve seen you heading off for runs most evenings.’

‘Well you’re welcome to come with me. I could do with the company especially with the dark evenings.’ 

‘In a terrible runner but yes will take you up on that. Do you fancy a cuppa?’

‘Would love one. I can’t be too long. I’ve got an essay due in tomorrow but will come in for a bit. So how long have you been in England?’

‘We arrived about a week before school started. Pete and I travelled around Europe for a few weeks before. We went to italy, France and Germany.’

‘Wow so are you two an item.?’

‘No. Everyone thinks so. I think we have something.’

‘How do you know Pete?’

‘From College back home. We’re both at Brevard College. We had a few classes together and when we opted to study abroad, my girlfriends all said we’re going to hook up.’

‘Amazing.’

‘But I’m not sure now. He has a girlfriend back home who he called quite a bit while we we were travelling. We’d be at an amazing place in Paris or Rome and he’d be looking around for a pay phone. I met her before we left and she is very insecure. She clearly felt threatened by me. We’d be sat at his kitchen table planning our travels and she’s be draped all over him. Desperate. She’s also quite a big girl. Not fat but you know quite big bones.’

‘Oh blimey. Well you never know.’

‘What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?’

‘I was sort of seeing someone back at home. It’s complicated. He’s older. (Complete lie. I had a massive crash on a guy 5 years older than me that worked in this trashy dive we would visit in a Saturday night. The highlight of my week was ordered a Smirnoff ice from him and looking at his amazing surfer sculpted shoulders.)

‘Ooh the older man. The boys here will be sad to know you’re taken.’

‘I don’t know about that.’

‘Listen we’re meeting in Molly’s room to all head to the ball together. Do you fancy joining us?’

‘Oh yes that sounds great.’

Molly’s room, 7pm

‘Hey ladies….looking beautiful.’ Slurred Molly

Goodness has Molly been drinking? ‘Looking gorgeous Molly.’ said Laura confidently.

Noticing how busty Molly was I then asked ‘Where is your dress from?’

‘Moscow.’

‘Wow Moscow. Is it as romantic as I imagine? Romantic trysts between lovers below lampposts.’

‘Yes it is. I was there before school started. I developed quite a taste for the local spirit and the vodka…ha ha ha.’

‘Oh yes right. Ha ha ha’

‘Does anyone want a shot before the boys get here?’

Moments later, dan, Matt and Pete walked in.

Wolf whistling starts. ‘Look at you guys. I’m getting hot and flustered just looking at you.’

Dan leaned over and kissed Molly on the mouth and then said ‘oh if I only loved girls in that way.’

Pete was very quiet but we looked up at each other and smiled. He looked divine in a dinner jacket. With his Sandy coloured hair not tied back in a ponytail there was something of the Kurt Cobain about him. Hopefully less of the chemicals though. 

We all headed down to the JCR bar and the Americans were definitely the subject of a lot of interest. They were all so gorgeous and collectively very loud. They had all the confidence in the world which was so attractive to observe. We all grabbed our preferred drinks and Pete headed over to where Laura and I were standing and said 

‘Ladies.’ Raising his pint glass ‘compliments, you’re looking beautiful.’

Laura was quick to come back with ‘you too Pete. You scrub up well.’

The first band for the evening was kula shaker and as they started I squealed with delight ‘amazing this takes me back to a field in Crackington haven’

Pete couldn’t contain his laugher ‘crack what…’

Oh I know I apologize now. We have so many silly names here….brown Willy….brown Willy…

Why do you keep repeating that?

i think I need food.

with that, Pete took me by the hand and took me to one of the many food trucks outside. ‘Your wish is my command.’

‘Well aren’t you the Prince Charming. I shall have the chicken burger.’

we chatted more about music and home. Pete said he missed his little brother, Jake.

‘Ooh I can hear the next band starting. They’re a pulp cover band and they’re meant to be amazing. ‘I want to live like common people. I want to do whatever common people do. Just dance and drink and screw.’

’right well your second wish is my command. The dance bit.’ Pete blushed.

After a fantastic night of cheap beer, singing at the top of our lungs and dancing till we wanted to drop, Pete walked me back to my room. He took me to my door and gave me a kiss on my hand before waking to the top of the staircase.

’Dan said something to me earlier. He said you looked beautiful, and you did. You do.’

‘Thank you. So do you. Good night.’

and with that I watched him walk down the staircase and I couldn’t stop grinning.

I took out my journal and wrote down everything about the best night of my life so far.