Page 80 of Ex in the City
‘Tops optional,’ I reply, grabbing at his T-shirt to pull it over his head.
Well, we’re not technically in Paris yet. But I’ll behave when I get there, I swear.
39
12 DECEMBER 2024
‘Okay, so why did you get married?’ Dylan asks me, his voice dripping with disdain.
‘Love,’ I reply, emphatically.
‘Oh, well, if it was for love,’ he replies sarcastically.
I sigh with a mixture of sadness and frustration.
‘Right, fine, that’s it, forget it,’ I rant. ‘I’m done with you, I don’t want anything from you…’
We both stop in our tracks and turn to the two kids who are staring at us.
‘Your voice needs to sound like that,’ Dylan tells Joey, who is playing Scrooge. ‘You think your nephew is an idiot. And, Albi, when you’re playing Fred, you should play it like Nicole just did. You’re frustrated with your uncle – you think he’s a dull old fart.’
‘Dylan,’ Miss Pallett calls out, interrupting him. ‘Dylan, can we run something by you?’
‘Yeah, sure, I’ll be there in a minute,’ he calls back, then he turns to the boys who are standing in the centre of the stage, eager to get back to their rehearsal. ‘Run it through a few more times, I’ll be right back.’
I walk with Dylan, to the edge of the stage, and down the steps.
‘This is so non-stop,’ he tells me, exhaling deeply. ‘I love it.’
‘I love that you’ve got the kids interested in Dickens,’ I reply.
‘Who knew all it would take was a bit of fun modernisation and satire?’ he replies. ‘Right, keep an eye on those two for me, I’ll go see what Miss Pallett needs.’
‘Sure,’ I reply with a smile.
I never would have thought, in a million years, that I would see Dylan working in a school, managing their summer and winter productions, but here he is, and he’s committed – so committed, in fact, that he bought a house here in Little Harehill. I think in a strange way, Mr C’s house holds sentimental value for him, and I find it hilarious that he is the kind of guy who will buya housebecause it’s sentimental.
The place looks great, now that it has had some intensive modernisation, and even though Dylan said that his plan was to get him through the tour (which was an absolute smash, and sold so many tickets they had to add extra dates) and me through my separation from Rowan, and then sell the place in the new year, I don’t know, something tells me that we might be sticking around in Little Harehill longer than we thought.
Living across the road from Rowan, Archie and Ned really has been helpful in helping with the transition. Sure, it was weird at first, but the fact that I wasn’t ripped away from the kids – that Rowan never stopped me seeing them, and that I didn’t just take off – has helped them get used to the idea. To be honest, I think they’re both so jazzed to have Dylan living across the street that they don’t really mind that their dad and I are no longer together. Kids are smarter than we think. I’m sure that, even though I did my best to keep playing happy families, the boys must have picked up on the fact that Rowan and I weren’t happy.
Oh, speak of the devil.
I notice Rowan walk into the hall with Archie and Ned, who charge ahead of him, running towards me, each grabbing one of my arms to greet me. He smiles widely as he catches them up.
‘I am still loving this hair,’ I tell Archie as I ruffle his growing locks.
Now that he’s decided he wants to be a drummer in a band when he grows up, he is very much embracing his inner rock god.
‘I want it even longer,’ he tells me. ‘And I want tattoos and piercings.’
‘Hmm, I would stick with the hair for now, make sure it’s what you want,’ I tell him with a laugh. ‘You can head through to the music room and start practising now, if you want. Dylan is nearly done.’
‘Cool,’ he says, charging off, drumsticks in hand.
‘What have you done to him?’ Rowan jokes. ‘He hasn’t touched a football in months.’
‘It’s nice to see him enjoying it,’ I reply. ‘And, for what it’s worth, his longer hair really does suit him. Anyway, look at you, all dressed up. Going somewhere nice?’
