Three Men On Tour: 4

“Did you take the washing out?“

I looked up from the article I was working on while sat sprawled on the bed.

“Was I supposed to?“

“I told you an hour ago. I put the washing on when I got in and it needed to come out at ten to eight.“

I looked at my watch. It was eight thirty. “I’ll do it in a minute,“ I called. “I just want to finish this off.“

On my screen, the three sentences I had written stared at me accusingly. I had, however, managed to clear Spider solitaire twice during my ‘thinking’ time. Sighing, I hit suspend and headed out to do something domestic.

Alicia was in the kitchen, looking elegant but tired, peeling vegetables and trying not to get potato skin on her shirt. We had moved in together less than a year after meeting, at which point we had realised how little we knew each other. For instance, it had come as somewhat of a surprise to realise that, underneath all that fluorescent hair dye, Alicia’s hair remained, in an understated way, red. It was even more of shock to find that she considered it her least attractive feature. I had seen her in every shade and style, from electric pink to a startling platinum blonde (and boy did that look interesting when she was growing out), but I secretly enjoyed seeing her au naturel: gentle auburn curls that rolled around my fingers when she kept it long and tickled my neck when she cut it short. Alicia, on the other hand, thought that unstyled hair and no make up was showing the world your weakness. She had gone from in-your face outlandish styles to make sure the world took her seriously, all the way through to expensive highlights and power make-up to show everyone how seriously she took the world. She was still dressed for work now; serious matching skirt and jacket, serious plain white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and her serious hair fastened at the back with a serious looking cameo clip. Still, sometimes, when I caught her chewing at her hair and looking nervous, it reminded me of the old Alicia – the one I fell in love with.

“I thought I was going to cook tonight?“

“If I left it to you,“ pointed out Alicia, “we wouldn’t be eating till midnight. Besides, I was sick of reading through contracts.“

“How was your day?“ I asked, having been in a relationship long enough to know my cues.

“Great. Three accounts called me up to ask me why our visitor stats didn’t agree with Google’s and when I asked Danielle about it she said ‘oh yes, that’ as if it was the most unimportant thing in the world.“

I don’t really understand what Alicia does, so I just nodded.

“It turned out we’d been under-counting for months. Danielle reckons it’s Google that’s wrong. I can’t tell that to the customer. They’d eat me alive.“

I let the sentences flow over me. At a certain point I realised there was a gap in the conversation I was supposed to fill.

“So did anything good happen at work?“

“Well, Phoebe got engaged, so we all had cake.“

“That’s nice,“ I said. From the look in Alicia’s eye I’d said the wrong thing again.

“Nice? She’s only been going out with him for six months. Who gets engaged after six months?“

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “How long are you supposed to wait?”

“Longer than six months. More like… oh I don’t know. How long have we been going out?”

“t could have been worse,” I pointed out. “Some girls are kept waiting for years before they get a proposal. Would you rather be called Speedy Phoebe or Waity Katie?“

Alicia paused for rather a long time before replying. Then, she sighed, shook her hair out and kicked off her shoes.

“Come on,“ she said. “Let’s get some dinner. The washing can wait. I’m sure you’ll get to it eventually.“