I don’t, of course. We’re splashing around in the jacuzzi, enjoying a packet of ham-flavoured crisps and a glass of wine before getting ready to go out for dinner, when Sam suddenly looks at me.
‘What?’
‘I need to ask you about Jake.’
‘Okay…’ I say cautiously. Hopefully this isn’t the start of one of Sam’s brotherly lectures. ‘Cos if it is, I might just have to get a bit mardy. And that’s hardly a suitable precursor to telling someone you can’t stop thinking about them, is it?
‘Do you love him?’
Wine comes out of my nose.’ God, no,’ I snort. ‘I don’t even think I’ll bother seeing him again when I get back. He’s history, basically. I think I only shagged him to make myself feel better.’
‘What about the others? Anything long-term going on there?’
I laugh. ‘I got rid of Max,’ I say. ‘He made me feel sick. And Nick’s eighteen, for beggar’s sake,’ I remind him. ‘When he saw Muriel’s Wedding on DVD he thought ABBA were an up-and-coming Australian band who were about to hit the big time. I don’t think that exactly lends us much common ground, do you? So there’s no need to rush that morning suit to Sketch-ley’s just yet.’
‘Well, there is, isn’t there?
‘Huh?’
‘You are getting married, aren’t you?’
‘What? Oh, shit. Yes. I suppose I am.’
I’ve sort of conveniently forgotten about my forthcoming nuptials. And I’d be lying if I said I’m not having doubts. Because I am. Big, fat, beefy doubts. But I’m not telling Sam that.
He’ll only say, ‘I told you so’.
‘I might be getting married,’ I swallow hard, ‘but I’m not in a relationship. Not with David, not with Max, not with Nick, Jake or anyone else for that matter. Relationships suck. I’ve tried a few and I’ve never found one that matches up to a chunky Kit Kat.’
Even as I say it, I know it’s true. I even hate the beginning part of relationships. The honeymoon period. OK, so it’s the part everyone else loves because it’s new and exciting but it’s also extremely stressful. Perhaps things could be different with Sam.
Or perhaps not.
I think Janice would agree with me about the stress of early relationships. The waiting for phone calls. The agony over what to wear on a date. The expense of having to purchase new items all the time. And Janice couldn’t even bear to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night for a pee when she first stayed at Jasper’s. She couldn’t stand the thought that he might not fancy her any more if he heard her emptying her bladder at full gush into his toilet bowl. So she used to creep downstairs and find some receptacle—more often than not the teapot—to piss into. Then she’d give it a quick rinse round and put it back. And he was none the wiser. I chuckle now at the idea that he must have thought she never needed to wee.
And pooing? Forget it.
‘But if you were in a relationship with the right person it would be like a chunky Kit Kat and more,’ Sam insists.
‘Yeah, right,’ I say sarcastically. ‘Like life might suddenly become one giant Godiva chocolate just because I had a nice boyfriend. Get real, Sam.’
You see, I’m not like Janice was when she was looking for Filthy Rich. I don’t want a bloke who’ll swathe me in Gucci and take me to the Met Bar every night.
I don’t even really want one who’ll wine me and dine me in restaurants where it’s so quiet you’re afraid to eat because everyone can hear you crunching your food.
I just want to be able to relax and enjoy life.
Oh, and I think I want Sam.
But what if I don’t want him? What if he doesn’t want me? What if I go for it and he rejects me? Or what if I pour my heart out to him and he says he feels the same. And then I find that, with Pussy out of the way, I suddenly don’t want him after all? What happens then?
‘What about you, anyway?’ I think it’s only fair he takes a turn in the Mastermind chair. ‘Pussy wasn’t your chunky Kit Kat I take it?’
‘God, no.’ He laughs. ‘She wasn’t even my Milky Bar. And I hate Milky Bars. I couldn’t even take her out to dinner and enjoy it. It’s no fun, Katie, I can assure you, always feeling like you’re eating alone because all the girls you go out with spend their lives on some kind of diet.’
‘If you didn’t expect to go out with girls who look like Bic biros the whole time, you might find a girlfriend you can have fun with.’ I take the stern approach. ‘One who does food and getting her clothes dirty.’