he thought he could change you.’
Sarah—‘You can’t change people.’
Kim—‘Paul is so arrogant he thinks he can do anything.’
Sarah—‘People can mellow.’
Kim—‘No. Their traits usually get stronger as they grow older.’
Sarah—‘Think so?’
Kim—‘Yep. If they’re mean, they get meaner. Generous, they become more generous. Seen it in all my parents’ friends. They just go round in circles. Don’t learn.’
Sarah—‘Do you think I should start cooking for him?’
Kim—‘God, you’re that worried, Sarah? No, if I were you, I’d just stay the same. Play cool and focus on Ben. And get some food inside you, girl. Sounds as though he’s got someone, but wait until he’s drunk or some-thing. He may tell you then. They usually do.’
And, looking at my untouched tuna…
Kim—‘Are you going to eat that?’
With that, she swaps plates and scoffs the lot.
Duncan returns.
Duncan—‘Have you finished, ladies?’
Sarah—‘Yes, that was wonderful, Duncan.’
We start talking puff while Duncan clears the plates.
Kim—‘So, what are you doing this afternoon?’
Sarah—‘I’ve got to make a deadline, too. I’ve been asked to write a feature for a women’s magazine, and it’s the first break I’ve had with them so I don’t want to screw up. “Where to go for a romantic weekend break.” I’ve got to collect Ben from nursery, and then play with his new bike and stuff for a few hours.’
Duncan goes.
Sarah—‘Then welcome Paul home. If he comes home. I’m very worried, Kim. You know, I think you’re right. I think he may have met someone else.’
Realising I’m about to sob hard, and probably rather loudly, in the middle of a restaurant full of people-watchers, Kim lightens up.
Kim—‘I was joking, Sarah. Fuck Paul. Who the fuck would fuck him?’
Sarah—‘I know, I know. But you know what I’m like.’
Duncan returns with the dessert menu. Smiling at me, then turning to Kim.
Duncan—‘The apple pie dish has most volume, just in case you’re interested.’
Kim—‘Thank you. Apple pie, then. And Sarah will have the same.’
Duncan—‘We do ice cream on the side.’
Kim—‘Dollop on top will do nicely. Thank you.’
Duncan goes. Think he’s starting to warm to Kim. We start talking again.
Kim—‘Why have you stayed with this guy for so long, Sarah? Under these conditions? A girl like you? You don’t have to put up with this crap. He’s been bullying you so long now and you just take it. Do you enjoy that sort of thing?’
Sarah—‘I’ve got used to it. I’ve become conditioned to it. It’s easy.’
Kim—‘It doesn’t sound easy to me. It sounds bloody horrendous. You can’t respect this man, Sarah.’
Kim leans over and holds my hand.
Kim—‘Sarah, this is no life. You deserve better. You always have. You’re not a trophy wife. You’re more than that. And you’re cheating yourself by staying with this man. You know it and I think he knows it. He’s doing you a favour, Sarah.’
Sarah—‘I shouldn’t have married him, should I? I shouldn’t have married him.’
Kim sighs and looks up at Duncan, who’s just arrived with two double-sized portions of apple pie.
Duncan—‘There we are, ladies.’
I think he knows Kim’s going to eat both, because I don’t get a spoon.
Kim—‘Well, no, I don’t think you should have married him. And I definitely don’t think you should have told him on the third day of your honeymoon that you were having an affair while you were engaged to him, and had an abortion by this other guy. Think that was a bad move.’
Sarah—‘Er, yes. That probably was a bad move.’
Kim—‘No probably about it, Sarah. Bad move. No man can take that. Why the hell did you tell him then? Why not before you got married? Why ever?’
Sarah—‘I wanted to wipe the slate clean. I wanted him to know that if he ever tried to withhold sex from me again I would betray him. I also wanted to tell him just in case John turned up on our doorstep when we got back from honeymoon and said, “Oh, hello, you must be Paul. Well, I’m John, and I’ve been fucking your fiancée. Just thought you should know.” You know—that sort of thing.’
Kim—‘So you wanted to save his pride? And sacrificed yourself and your chance of happiness to do that?’
Sarah—‘Yes. I didn’t want John to have the satisfaction of humiliating Paul.’
Kim—‘So you did it instead?’
Sarah—‘Yes. But at least it was one on one.’
Kim—‘At Raffles? In Singapore?’
Sarah—‘Yes, over a candlelit dinner.’
Kim—‘On the third night of your honeymoon?’
Sarah—‘Yes.’
Kim—‘You told him about John?’
Sarah—‘Yes.’
Kim—‘And the abortion?’
Sarah—‘Yes. But I also gave him the opt-out clause. I told him if he wanted to annul the marriage then and there he could do so.’
Kim—‘You wanted out then, Sarah. That’s why you told him. You wanted out then. You just couldn’t do it yourself. Problem was, neither could he. Not then, anyway.’
Sarah—‘I realise I’ve betrayed him, Kim.’
Kim—‘Yes, but what’s more important is that by staying with him, Sarah, by marrying him, having his child, you’ve betrayed yourself.’
We sit in silence again. I think about what Kim’s just said. I love her clarity of thought. My thoughts are clouded by my feelings. When I’m with her I realise how much my anger, my fear, my pride have clouded my reason for such a long time. How I’ve become immune to the hurt, as though the emotional bruises are now an integral part of me. They have been there for such a long time. My feelings of self-contempt and wanting to do the right thing are so strong. I’ve always thought staying with Paul is the right thing to do—when I know, have always known, it’s not. But now there’s Ben. Little Ben. And it’s not his fault that this has happened. And I’ve got to protect him. And think of him. And think of myself.
Sarah—‘You’re right, Kim. Of course you’re right. But you’re not on the inside. I am. And I can’t see this the way you can. Without the emotion.’
Kim—‘Without what emotion? You can’t think straight because you’re angry and upset and perhaps a bit guilty, but also probably because you’re not eating enough and can’t think straight. You don’t love this man, Sarah.’
Sarah—‘I think I do.’
Kim—‘Well, I think you think you do, if you get me. But I don’t think you do. I think you’re proud and jealous and want to do the right thing, even if it’s not the right thing for you. And Paul has never