State We're In Read Online Free PDF Page A

Right now, all I can think of is the fact that I’ve attended seventeen weddings and currently have invites to three more. All I can say is, ‘Martin was kind and solvent, and tall.’
    â€˜And dull. You were always going on about how you had nothing in common.’
    â€˜I could have learnt to enjoy his hobbies,’ I insist.
    â€˜I bet you can’t even remember what his hobbies were. Before you received the invite to his wedding, you hadn’t given him a thought in ages.’
    â€˜I send him a Christmas card every year.’
    â€˜You send all your exes Christmas cards every year. Honestly, I don’t know how you do, let alone
why
. You must have to start writing your cards in October.’
    â€˜Ha ha. Funny.’ Her point is, I’ve clocked up an above-average share of exes in the past few years. Different people have different views on that; some of my friends who have been married for a dozen years or more think it’s exciting, others think I’m slutty. My mother thinks it’s disappointing. I think it’s heartbreaking.
    â€˜I can’t imagine why he’s invited you,’ adds Lisa.
    â€˜To gloat?’ I offer miserably. ‘Or maybe his fiancée has a string of exes that she’s inviting and he wants to prove he had a life before her.’ Depressed, we both stare at the highly polished table between us; neither reason is particularly heroic or appealing. Suddenly I’m struck by a more cheering thought. ‘Maybe it’s an SOS.’
    â€˜A what?’
    â€˜A cry for help.’
    â€˜You think he wants
you
to help him?’
    I try to ignore her astonishment. ‘Why not?’
    â€˜Because—’
    I don’t allow her to finish. I won’t want to hear it. Lisa and I don’t think alike on matters of the heart. At least not
my
heart. I beam, warming to my idea. ‘Maybe he wants me to go to the wedding so I can stand up in the church and object to the thing going ahead.’
    â€˜Stop it, Jo. You’re scaring me.’
    â€˜It’s possible.’
    â€˜But not
probable
. Look, I might have found that theory hilarious under other circumstances, but as it’s my sister talking, this situation is fast becoming tragic rather than comic. Get real. Just accept it. Martin has moved on.’
    I glare at her. I think her words are sharp and nasty; she probably thinks they are sensible and necessary. She pulls her gaze away from mine, embarrassed for both of us, then reaches for my arm again and gives it another little squeeze. I move away, not allowing her the satisfaction of comforting me. She takes a deep breath and then slowly, carefully adds, ‘Jo, I hate it that I have to dole out the yuckiest medicine, but the fact is, nothing has changed. Just because Martin is about to marry someone else does not mean that he’s any more suitable for you than he was before. That just doesn’t make sense. Obviously, if anything, he is
less
suitable. He’s in love with someone else. Can’t you be happy for him?’
    Can I? Am I still capable of truly revelling in other people’s happiness?
    As hideous as I sound, no, I don’t think I can. If I admit as much to Lisa, she’ll be disgusted with me, probably make me pay for my own dinner, so I bite my tongue and pretend to be a better person, more like the person I was until endless, fruitless dates took their toll. I notice Lisa’s own wedding ring glinting seductively in the dark restaurant. Lisa has been married for fourteen years – happily married; some might say smugly – so I know she just can’t understand what I’m going through. She already had two children and was pregnant with her third by the time she was my age, and she never even expressed any particular interest in getting married when we were growing up; for her it was all about her school work and then her career. She has no idea about loneliness or