Mrs Mills answers your problems
Dear Mrs Mills,
I’ve been seeing a married, older man for nearly a year now. He claims he loves me, but during a recent separation he’s barely returned my calls. What should I do?
Yours,
Desperate of Frant
Dear Desperate,
If he loved you he’d call you back. Or even visit. Why are you being such a moron? Why are you letting this man take over your life? If he cheats on his wife he’ll cheat on you. Once a liar, always a liar …
As hard as she tried to shake them, the voices in Sasha’s head would not go away. Something was wrong. She’d dreaded the long summer holiday for ages, but not even in her worst nightmares had she pictured such a rapid unravel ling of whatever it was that she and Theo had together. They used to talk at Cambridge, about everything. Life. The universe. She could live without the lovemaking. But the lack of communication was killing her.
‘Are you sure you won’t try the blue one? It’s a perfect colour on you, Sash.’ Her mother had tried vainly to interest her in a shopping expedition in Tunbridge Wells that afternoon. They were in Hooper’s department store, looking for a dress for Sasha’s cousin’s wedding. A wedding. That’s all I bloody need.
‘Sure, I’ll try it. But you pick, OK, Mum? You know I’ve got no head for fashion.’
In the changing room, she jumped for joy when she got a new text from Theo. But as soon as she read it: ‘Cnt tlk now. 2mr, OK?’ she was plunged back into depths of despair she hadn’t known she was capable of. She’d tried everything to put him out of her mind, going riding, spending time with school friends who knew nothing about her Cambridge life, even sorting out her bedroom, alphabetizing her CD collection and colour coding her knicker drawer in an attempt to create some feeling of order and control over her own life. But I’m not in control. I’m out of control. I’m turning into a stalker!
Just before supper that night – her favourite Moroccan lamb and homemade strawberry ice cream; Mum was pulling all the stops out to try and cheer her up – Sasha called Georgia.
‘The summer’s so long. I’m missing St Michael’s more than I thought I would,’ she admitted. Not able to tell her friend about Theo, she hoped Georgia would read between the lines and offer some sympathy. ‘Do you find that?’
‘Not really.’ Sasha could hear the sound of laughter in the background. A student party. How long was it since she’d been to one of those? Let her hair down with people her own age? ‘A lot of the gang from college were in Turkey two weeks ago. You should have come.’
Maybe I should have.
‘Josie and Danny are here now. D’you want to say hi?’
Sasha said hi, but she hung up the phone feeling even more lonely than she had before. We’ve grown apart. Even me and Georgia. We used to be so close.
Seeing his daughter on the couch, lost in thought, Don Miller turned on the TV. He could see she was upset, but long experience had taught him that distraction was a safer bet than the dreaded ‘talking’ when it came to women’s problems.
‘Only Fools and Horses, Gardeners’ World or Law & Order?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘Hmmm? Oh, I don’t mind, Dad. Whatever.’
Don plumped for Law & Order. Sasha tried to focus on the twisting plot and the laboured tension of the detectives’ banter, but it was a losing battle. She didn’t even notice when Don switched over to the ten o’clock BBC news until her mother walked in and asked her a question about the Middle East. A few seconds later, however, and the TV had Sasha’s full attention.
‘Isn’t that your professor, love? The fellow from St Michael’s?’
Sasha felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Theo’s face on screen looked even more handsome than it did in her dreams, if that were possible. He was doing that half-frown, half-smile thing that he did when he concentrated. It was the same face he pulled when he made love, right before he came.
‘What’s he doing on the news?’
It was a good ten seconds before the pounding of Sasha’s heart quietened enough for her to hear what Theo was saying. He was talking about some sort of breakthrough. Something that would change the face of physics and astronomy. Odd words and phrases leapt out at her … Einstein’s field equation, but seen through a mirror … changing our perceptions of existence … space-time continuum re-imagined …
Sasha felt a momentary swelling of pride. Those are my words. I wrote that.
The report then cut to a ludicrously simplified CGI of the Big Bang and the formation of earth. Above the graphic of the spinning planet was an equation. And that’s when it hit Sasha: It’s my theory. He’s gone public with my theory. It’s on the news.
Her hands and feet began to tingle with excitement, as if someone were passing an electric current through her body. Wordlessly she grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned up the volume, waiting to hear Theo mention her name.
Is this why he’s been so distant? He wanted to surprise me.
Theo was talking. ‘Sometimes an idea is so profound, but so simple, you can’t quite believe it yourself …’
He knows how to handle these things better than I do. He didn’t want me to screw it up.
‘… culmination of years of work …’
Only six months actually.
‘… grateful to all those who have supported me. Especially my wonderful wife Theresa.’
Excuse me?
‘Science can be a lonely profession, but Theresa has been there for me through thick and thin. It’s easy to get caught up in competition with one’s peers. But clearly this is not about me personally. This isn’t Theo Dexter’s triumph. It’s a triumph for the whole physics community. For the human race, in a way.’
Cut to various eminent physicists from around the globe. Sasha watched their mouths move, but her ears were ringing. Slowly, hideously, the truth began to dawn.
Oh my God.
‘I’m just the lucky man who happened to be sitting in the right place when inspiration struck.’
Yeah you were in the right place! Naked in a field with ME. You stole my idea!
‘Bastard,’ Sasha muttered, getting unsteadily to her feet.
The report was finished. Huw Edwards was saying something about the Special Olympics. Sasha grabbed the arm of the sofa for support. The room was starting to spin.
‘Are you all right, darling? Sasha?’ Don gave her a worried glance.
‘I need some air.’
* * *
Outside in the garden, warm summer scents of jasmine and freshly mown grass assailed Sasha’s senses. The world looked and smelled and sounded familiar, but everything had changed. Her hand shook as she dialled Theo’s number.
He won’t answer. He’ll see it’s from me and he won’t answer. He …
‘Sasha. How are you, angel? Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back earlier. It’s been a manic day.’ He sounded so calm, so normal, for a moment Sasha wondered if she’d imagined the news report. There was no hint of guilt or apology in his voice.
‘I saw you. On the news. Five minutes ago.’
‘Oh.’ There was a long pause. Irrationally, Sasha’s spirits soared. This