Last night Richard got a text from Nathan asking us over for dinner tomorrow night. Apparently Lucy is desperate to show me her honeymoon pics. That’s all well and good, except that at lunchtime, Jonathan walks past and plonks an invitation to Pier Frank’s photography exhibition on my desk.
‘I can’t go,’ he says. ‘I’m having dinner with the missus.’
‘Happy anniversary,’ I chip in.
‘Thanks. RSVP on behalf of yourself and a friend, if you like. Just tell them I passed the invite on.’
‘Oh wow, that would be so cool!’
‘Don’t get too excited. These things are often as dull as ditchwater, but you can have a free glass of wine and check out the exhibition if you’re interested in photography.’
‘I am, I definitely am.’
I’ve already asked Nicola – Mel is out with her horny banker so that was easy – and have emailed to RSVP when I suddenly remember Lucy and Nathan’s plans for dinner tonight.
‘Shit!’ I mutter under my breath, and nip out onto the landing to call Richard.
‘Honey,’ I start, when he answers his mobile.
‘What’s up?’ He can hear from the tone of my voice that something is.
‘I can’t go tonight.’
‘What? Why not?’
‘I’ve been invited to a photography exhibition.’
‘And? Do you have to go?’
‘I’ve already said I would.’
‘Lily . . .’ He sounds disappointed.
‘Sorry, but it’s really important to me.’ Silence. ‘Nathan and Lucy won’t mind, I can see them at the weekend.’
‘Well, they might find it a bit rude,’ he snaps. ‘You didn’t come to Sam and Molly’s on Sunday either.’
‘I see them all the time!’ I exclaim. Now he’s being unfair. Iknowthey’d all understand.
‘What is this exhibition, anyway? Who invited you?’
I haven’t told him about my temporary position yet. I wanted him to be excited for me and I knew I wouldn’t get that reaction with the mood he was in last night. I’m not going to get it now either, I realise with a heavy heart.
‘It’s Pier Frank’s launch. He’s an up-and-coming photographer,’ I explain before he can ask. ‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday, but the Editor-in-Chief ofMarblesmagazine asked me to cover for their editorial assistant who’s off sick this week. He gave me the invite.’
‘Are you going with him?’ Richard asks suspiciously.
‘No, of course not. I’m going with Nicola.’
‘It’s all arranged, then.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Pause. ‘Well, okay, then. See you later.’
‘I’ll text you when I’m on my way home,’ I say, but he’s already hung up.
I feel guilty for all of ten minutes, but soon my guilt subsides and is replaced by annoyance, shortly followed by anger. Richard is being so unsupportive of my interests. He may be happy being a builder, but I’m not happy being a receptionist. I have goals! Dreams! Okay, so I haven’t had these goals or dreams for very long, but I do now, and he should accept that. Not just accept it, butencourageit. That’s what a good boyfriend – I mean fiancé – should do.
