Rescuing Rose. Isabel Wolff
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‘Six months ago.’
‘That’s quite a while.’
‘I know. But I just…can’t get over it.’
‘And how long were you with him?’
‘Almost two years. He left me for our optician,’ she added plaintively. ‘I never saw it coming.’ Minty was struggling not to laugh. ‘I feel so depressed,’ she sniffed. ‘Every evening I sit at home feeling bitter: I just can’t…forget.’
‘Fran,’ I said, ‘this is easy to say, and hard to do, but you’ve got to try and move on.’
‘But I can’t because it’s made me feel…worthless. I blame myself.’
‘Fran, why do you blame yourself?’ There was a stunned silence.
‘I don’t know really – I just do.’
‘Fran,’ I said firmly, ‘please don’t. If you must blame anyone, then in these situations it’s much more healthy to blame others. First of all blame your ex – that’s a given – then blame the other woman of course. You may also wish to blame the government, Fate, bad karma or dodgy feng shui. If all else fails, blame global warming – but please don’t blame yourself, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she said with a reluctant giggle.
‘Can I come in here?’ said Minty. ‘Fran, I had a terrible break-up three years ago. I was actually jilted – on my wedding day.’
‘No!’ said Fran, appalled.
‘Yes. But do you know, it was the best thing that ever happened to me, because I met someone so much nicer, and I just know that you will too.’
‘Well, I hope so,’ she sniffed. ‘I’ve been so unhappy.’
‘Fran,’ I said, ‘that won’t last. Heartbreak is a curable condition. And remember that your ex is only your ex because he’s wrong for you otherwise you’d still be together, right? But it’s not easy getting over someone,’ I went on, thinking of Ed with a vicious stab. ‘So you need a strategy to help you recover. Now were there things about him you didn’t like?’
‘Oh yeah!’ she exclaimed. ‘Loads!’
‘Good. Then make a list of them, and when you’ve done it, ring your friends and read it to them, then ask them if you’ve left anything out. Get them to add their own negative comments, and ask your family as well. Then ask your next-door neighbours – on both sides – plus the people in the corner shop, then post the list up in a prominent place. Secondly, get off your bum! Get down to the gym, like I did, and take up kick-boxing or Tae-Bo. Kick the shit out of your instructor, Fran – believe me it’ll lift your mood. Because it’s only when you’re feeling happy and confident again, that the right man will come along.’
‘Okay,’ she sighed. ‘Yes. You’re right. Do you think I should contact some of my exes?’ she added. ‘One or two of them were quite keen.’
‘Should you contact your exes?’ I repeated slowly. ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘Do not.’
‘Oh. Why?’
‘Because one of the Ten Commandments of the Dumped Woman is, “Thou Shalt Not Phone Up Thy Old Boyfriends”.
‘Why not?’
‘Well, because they might have had a sex change, or they might be in jail, or bald, or dead. Worst of all, you might find they’re now happily married with two adorable kids! So no, don’t have anything to do with your old boyfriends, Fran – put all your energy into finding someone new!’
‘And on that positive note I’m afraid we must leave it there,’ said Minty as the hand on the studio clock juddered towards the twelve. ‘Thanks to everyone who’s called in, and do please join Rose and me again on Tuesday night for our regular phone-in – Sound Advice.’
As I pushed wearily on the heavy studio door I saw Wesley waving at me.
‘I’ve got a call for you, Rose.’
‘As long as it’s not that mad woman,’ I whispered, making frantic circling gestures by my head. Wesley clapped his hand over the mouthpiece.
‘No it’s not her. It’s a bloke.’
‘Hello?’ I said tentatively, nervously wondering if it was Ed.
‘Is that Rose?’
It wasn’t Ed.
‘It’s Henry here.’ Henry? Oh, Henry! My ex but three! ‘Heard your dulcet tones on the radio…brought back some very pleasant times…just come back from the Gulf…yes still in H.M.’s Armed Forces…got a desk job at the M.o.D…absolutely love to see you…how about dinner next week?’
Well why not? I thought, as I put the phone down with a grin. True, Henry had never really lit my fire. He was the human equivalent of a lava lamp – very attractive but not that bright. But on the other hand he’s harmless, generous, extremely good-natured and after what I’ve been through I fancy a date. I mean, where’s the harm in having dinner tête-à-tête with an old flame? And yes, I know what I said to that caller, but the point is that I’m sure Henry’s been to some very interesting places in the last three years, plus I’m keen to find out what he has to say about the role of women in the armed forces, not to mention the proposed European Rapid Reaction Defence Force and its likely effect on Britain’s relationship with NATO. So I fixed to see him the following Friday, November the tenth, which was also the night Theo was due to move in.
Theo had told me he’d be arriving at around half past six. And I was just trying to tame my hair at ten to when the doorbell rang. I opened my bedroom window, to check it wasn’t the Jehovah’s Witnesses again and as I did so a late firework suddenly exploded with a mighty BOOOOOMMMMM!!! spangling the night with stars. ‘Ooooohhh,’ I heard myself breathe, like a child, then I looked below. Standing there, looking up, was Theo with so much baggage my tiny garden resembled an airport carousel.
‘You’re early,’ I said accusingly as I opened the door.
‘Yes, er, sorry,’ he said.
‘And you’ve got a lot of stuff.’
‘I…know. But don’t worry, it’ll all go in my room. Most of it’s books,’ he explained. As I watched him trundling up and down the stairs with it all I noticed one very odd-looking, long black case. What on earth was in it I wondered – a musical instrument? God forbid. And now I wished I’d asked if he was going to be tooting away on a clarinet half the night or blasting me out with a trombone; and I shivered with apprehension at the thought that I was letting this total stranger into my house. But I needed the cash I reminded myself firmly, and his references had been fine. His boss at Compu-Force had assured me that far from being a convicted axe-murderer, Theo was a ‘nice, reliable chap. He’s had a hard time recently,’ he’d added enigmatically: I’d wondered, but hadn’t enquired. All I needed to know was that he wouldn’t kill me, bore me, evangelise me, steal