I have to laugh too. When I’m able to speak properly, I say, “Actually it’s more like snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.”
She gives me a quizzical look. “How so?”
“What I didn’t tell you is that my brother left me a request in his will.”
“Yes, you did, he asked you to move here and fix up the cottage.”
“That’s just the beginning. He also asked me to…” I pull the folded letter from my pocket to show her.
No, that doesn’t feel right, a lot of it is private.
Instead, I unfold the paper and read her a summary of the list.
“One - Take over his cottage, make it mine and live here for at least a year.
Two – Try a different job.
Three - Do something to help someone in trouble. Not giving money to charity. But giving of my time, a little part of my life.
Four – Take a vow of celibacy for at least one whole year.
Five - Help someone achieve something out of his/her reach.
Six…
I pause. This is the one about allowing myself to feel pain, and I can’t bring myself to read it out loud, so I skip over it.
“Change my diet, my eating habits.
Nine - Meet a young woman who does not want to sleep with me and become her best friend.
Ten – When all these are completed, make a new wish list for myself, for the life I want to have, and put something on it that I think is impossible.”
Lessa stays quiet until I finish. Then she answers slowly, as if considering her thoughts. “So, a minute earlier, when it seemed like things were moving in another direction, by sleeping with me you’d be breaking two of your promises?”
God, this woman is whip smart. “Yes. I’m not suggesting I’ll manage to be a good friend to you; we met two month ago.”
She lifts the mug to her mouth, takes a sip and finding it cold gets up to tip it into the sink.
Neither of us speak while she makes a fresh pot of tea, brings me another bottle of cider, and finally settles back on her cushion.
“You know, I don’t really have many friends. Working in politics doesn’t facilitate friendships or trust. Almost everyone you know might stab you in the back, elbow you out of the way, or kick you when you’re down.”
“Sounds like a very energetic group of people.”
She shrugs.
“But surely you have other friends, ones you know from outside work.” I can’t imagine she would find it difficult to make friends. She’s great company and easy to like.
“The problem is that working in politics takes up so much of your time and mental space that it leaves no room for anyone else. It’s hard to keep your friends because even when you have time to see them, anything you might like to talk about is either an official secret or so far removed from their lives that it means nothing to them. Gradually you find yourself drifting apart.”
“I don’t have many friends either. I have a lot of – I had – a lot of colleagues, fellow musicians, but they’re transient at best and sometimes even competitors.”
Liam used to nag me about that.‘Who could you ring at three in the morning if you need something?’
At the time, I’d pointed out there were many friends I could call in the small hours, and when I did, they were always there for me.
“Girls who want to sleep with you don’t count, and when I say, ‘need something,’ I don’t mean sex.”
