‘I think so,’ I reply, making a note to find someone else to fill her slot. ‘He was busy this morning, so we didn’t get a chance to chat.’ If Joe didn’t tell his dad I came along for the ride, I’m keeping quiet too.
‘I’m happy to have made him happy,’ he says, ‘which coincidentally ticks off a target I’ve had all my life but failed to make much progress on. Did you talk to him about …?’
‘I’ll remind him tomorrow that he owes you.’
Chapter 26
I take a plan of the hall and plot out the Happiness Fair. While I’ve sourced a new speaker to replace the one who dropped out, the stalls are not filling up like I’d hoped. At this rate I won’t make enough money to cover my costs let alone give a big donation to the charity. I spend yet another an hour on it and then put it to one side, frustrated by my slow progress. I’ve promised the caretaker’s wife I’ll raise a few hundred pounds for an important and underfunded local service, and I really don’t want egg on my face.
Killing time before my coffee van visit so I can have Joe to myself, I grab a piece of paper and write up my own POP chart. Using the same colours as Vince I scrawl down every activity I’ve done lately, finding it harder than I thought. Unlike his, mine is light on pleasure and also not as heavy on progress as I’d like. I need to make it up with Eva so I can drag her out for more board games.
On cue, she gets up and starts to potter in the living room. I hear the creak of the sofa bed being pushed back in and wonder if she’s still cross about our argument. I’ll have to win her around. She loves to help people and I want to try out a new exercise I’ve plotted for my next session with Vince.
‘Could you spare me a minute or two?’
She looks at me, then looks at her phone. Then she shrugs. ‘Have twenty-six. Will give you sixteen.’
I smile, knowing I’m already on the way to being forgiven. ‘I probably won’t need sixteen but that’s nice of you. I’m planning a session with Vince about the physical emotion of happiness. Not something he’s been very familiar with lately. I want to remind him what it is to be joyful, how to generate it, trigger it, recognise it in himself and hopefully others. Get him back into the zone so to speak. Can I try an exercise on you?’
‘After breakfast.’
‘I thought I had sixteen minutes?’
‘Breakfast first.’ She grabs some bread and the salty cheese she sources from the market, before cutting a tomato into four.
When she’s done eating, exactly ten minutes later, I press on. ‘OK, I want you to close your eyes and reach into yourself. We’re going to examine the physical sensation of happiness. Like most emotions, it isn’t just one feeling. It’s a whole basket of stuff. Sometimes we don’t even notice we are experiencing it. I want you to go back to a time when you were so delighted with life you thought your heart might burst and think of it now. Ready?’
‘No. Yes. No.’
I gather my thoughts so I can say the right things in the right order. Eventually, she stops biting her lip and closes her eyes.
‘OK, let’s consider your stomach first. Think about what’s going on at the pit of it? Can you identify the churn, the buzz, or whatever sensations the feeling manifests for you?’ As I talk I focus on my own moment– the day Joe made me a pizza, filling a hunger in me, not just for dough but for being looked after.
‘Can you identify something physical down there?’ When she slowly shakes her head I change tack. ‘Maybe the feeling isn’t in your stomach, but in those vital organs that keep your blood pumping around. Or even deep in your womb, the place where all life begins?’ I recall the reawakening of my sexual appetite as Joe lifted the pizza out of the oven and I focused on his gym-honed arm. Eva isn’t finding it quite so easy but she’s still thinking hard. ‘Not in stomach,’ she says eventually. ‘And no joy in ovary.’
‘Then let’s consider the space between your ribcage and your neck.’ I cast my mind back to how my saliva built as he separated a piece out and blew on it to cool it down. My throat tightens now as I recall how he swallowed, how his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Eva opens her eyes and I throw her a disapproving look. ‘Keep focused, and if there’s nothing going on there, talk me through what’s happening in your head. Consider your tongue and teeth. Your lips too; they’re very sensitive to what’s happening in your brain.’ I’m flooded with endorphins when I think about his mouth pulling at the hot mozzarella.
She shakes her head again, opening one eye.
‘Eyes closed, please.’ I shut my own to encourage her. ‘Can you recall a tingle in your lips or a sensation on your skin?’ When I hear nothing from her I turn to extremities. ‘Think about your fingers, your toes, and the nerve system connecting them. The blood pumping around your body as you become triggered with emotion. The flush of your skin. The rush of adrenaline in your veins.’
When I open my eyes I find her looking at me. Did I just act all of that out?
I grab her breakfast plate and wash it up for her. This was supposed to be about Eva, but I’ve made it about me. Turning to her, I apologise for my harsh words about Kai and say there was no excuse for it. She nods. ‘You feel a lot,’ she says, in her characteristically unemotional voice. ‘Anger at Kai? Triggers to unhappy childhood.’ Blimey, it’s taken me a quarter of a century to work that out. How did she get there so soon? ‘Go to coffee van now,’ she continues firmly. ‘Tell Joe how you feel, what happiness is for you. Or he will find someone else to share life with.’
I give her a hug and share my worries about the Happiness Fair.
‘Do not need big profit this time,’ Eva advises. ‘This year is publicity and trial run for bigger, better fair next year. OnDragon’s Den, business project big loss for year one but dragon throw money at contestant– no one give shit about first year.’
‘That would only work if thereisa second year. It’s not just the speakers pulling out and lack of interest from stalls. I ran a Facebook campaign and it sucked up my cash but got hardly any leads. I’m pinning hopes on a mention at the end of my column in theGazettebut it isn’t enough publicity on its own. I’m not sure the fair is sexy enough to grab the people of Shepherd’s Bush, let alone the attention of Londoners further afield.’
Eva frowns. ‘Bendy actor very popular? Ask if he will tweet. Or speak on panel?’
‘I can’t ask a West End actor to talk to ten people at a local hall.’
‘Why not? Better than talking to one man in mirror all day.’ Credit to her for nailing his whole reason for living.
‘Shall we have a night in tonight? Wine’s on me? Or a Monopoly challenge at All Aboard?’
