Surprise Me(50)

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It seems like a risky thing. When did these Copenhagen guys approach you?’

‘Two months ago,’ said Dan. ‘We turned them down. But I’m reconsidering.’

And something furious immediately erupted inside me. Why is he reconsidering now? Because we went to my mother’s yesterday and she talked about holidays on yachts in Greece?

‘Dan.’ I fixed his eyes with mine. ‘We have a great life. We have a great work–leisure balance. Your business doesn’t need to be five times bigger. The girls like having you around. We don’t want you in Copenhagen. And I love this house! We’ve made it our home! We don’t need to move, we don’t need more money …’

I was on quite a roll. I could probably have talked for twenty minutes, except that Anna’s little voice piped up, saying, ‘Seven fifty-two.’ She was reading the clock on the oven, which is her new hobby. I broke off mid-stream and exclaimed, ‘What time? Sh-ugar!’ and it was a total scramble to get the girls ready for school.

I never finished testing the girls’ spellings either. Great. They’ll probably get three out of ten in the test. And when the teacher asks, ‘What happened this week?’ Tessa will say in that clear little voice of hers, ‘We couldn’t learn our words because Mummy and Daddy were arguing about money.’ And the teachers will bitch about us in the staff room.

Sigh.

Double sigh.

‘Sylvie!’ exclaims Tilda as she joins me at her gate. ‘What’s wrong? I’ve said hello three times. You’re miles away!’

‘Sorry.’ I greet her with a kiss and we start on our usual walk.

‘What’s up, honey?’ she says, studying her Fitbit. ‘Just the Monday morning blues?’

‘You know.’ I heave another sigh. ‘Marriage.’

‘Oh, marriage.’ She makes a snorting sound. ‘Did you not read the disclaimers? “May cause headache, anxiety, mood swings, sleep disturbance or general feelings of wanting to stab something?”’ Her expression is so comical, I can’t help laughing. ‘Or hives,’ Tilda adds. ‘Brought me out in hives.’

‘I don’t have hives,’ I allow. ‘That’s a plus.’

‘And another plus, I’m assuming, would be your lovely new cashmere cardigan …?’ Tilda prompts, her eyes twinkling. ‘Did everything go to plan?’

‘Oh God.’ I clap a hand to my forehead. ‘That feels ages ago now. To be honest, nothing went to plan. Dan found out I tried the cardigan on. And we double-booked lunch. And we’ve ended up with a snake.’

‘A snake?’ She stares at me. ‘Did not see that one coming.’

I regale Tilda with all the events of Saturday, and we both get fits of the giggles, and I feel really quite cheerful again. But then I remember Dan’s scratchiness, and my mood sinks once more.

‘So, why the blues this morning?’ enquires Tilda, who is one of those friends who likes to know for sure you’re OK and can’t be brushed off and never gets offended. The best kind of friend, in fact. ‘Is it the snake?’

‘No, it’s not the snake,’ I say fairly. ‘I might get used to the snake. It’s just …’ I spread my arms and let them fall.

‘Dan?’

I walk a few paces, marshalling my thoughts. Tilda is wise and loyal. We’ve both shared some sensitive stuff, along the way. She might see the situation a different way.

‘I’ve told you before about Dan and my father,’ I say at last. ‘And that whole …’

‘Financial prickliness?’ Tilda suggests tactfully.

‘Exactly. Financial prickliness. Well, I thought it would get better, but it’s getting worse.’ I lower my voice, even though the street is empty. ‘Dan’s come up with a plan to expand his company. I know it’s because he’s trying to compete with Daddy, but I don’t want him to!’ I look up, meeting Tilda’s shrewd eyes. ‘I don’t want him to work himself into the ground, just to be some version of my father. He’s not my father, he’s Dan! That’s why I love him. Because he’s Dan, not because …’ I trail off, not quite sure where I’m going.

We walk in silence, and I can see that Tilda is mulling.

‘I watched a documentary about lions a while ago,’ she says presently. ‘About the young lions taking over the pride from the older generation. They’re vicious to each other. They get horribly injured. But they have to fight it out. They have to establish who’s boss.’

‘So, what, Dan’s a lion?’

‘Maybe he’s a young lion with no one to fight,’ says Tilda, shooting me a cryptic look. ‘Think about it. Your father died in his prime. He won’t ever get old and frail. He won’t ever make way for Dan. Dan wants to be king of the jungle.’

‘But he is king of our jungle!’ I say in frustration. ‘Or at least … he’s joint king with me,’ I amend, because our marriage is definitely an equal partnership, which is something I really try to get across to the girls in a positive, feminist-role-model way. (When I’m not arguing with Dan and neglecting their spelling test, that is.) ‘We’re both the king,’ I clarify.