‘When we deny the story, it defines us. When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending’
Brené Brown
Poppy’s Daydream Blog
Hi, it’s JoJo here, Poppy’s housemate. She’s really busy with preparations for her wedding so she’s asked me to post a puppy update today! She said some of you wanted to know how things were going with the latest addition to our pack. So, here goes …
Things Flump has chewed so far:
My Kindle cover
His dog bed
My toothbrush
The electricity bill
A paperback copy of Eat, Pray, Love – I’d like to think he has an advanced sense of irony but really it was just the top book in the pile. He has ‘eat’ and ‘love’ covered already. He might want to learn to pray, if he’s going to keep up this current stream of chewy robberies!
He steals pretty much anything he can get his paws on frankly. I’d forgotten what hard work puppies can be. I absolutely adore him but trying to stop him from killing himself by eating something poisonous, chewing electrical wires, leaping off of the sofa back to see if he can reach the desk or making a break for it to run towards the road is heart and panic attack inducing! I love him so much I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to him.
He’s definitely a cross breed as he’s growing to be at least three times the size of Peanut and Treacle. The closest match I’ve found for him online is a Labrahuahua or a Golden Chihuatriever. Yes, they really are a thing. Who knew?
One of his ears sticks up all the time while the other dangles down. Like Barney’s ears in fact. Barney is very gentle with Flump. They wrestle together and sit cuddled up with Flump using Barney as a sofa. I think they’ve formed a Sticky Up Ears club in solidarity. Dogs with uniformly positioned ears need not apply :-)
From annabelgrant@thestickybun.co.uk
To joannagrant@thestickybun.co.uk
Subject: Hi
Hi JoJo, how’s it going?
I’m really glad to hear you say you’re happy again and it all sounds really wonderful but … Well this is difficult, but I need to ask – are you one hundred per cent sure he’s not using you? I’m sure you must’ve considered the fact that a high profile romance with you isn’t exactly going to hurt his media profile?
Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I don’t believe he could genuinely care about you – I think you’re amazing – but anyone who doesn’t love you to bits, just for you, doesn’t deserve you at all IMHO.
Please don’t hate me for asking the question. You’re so far away and I can’t help worrying. I’m afraid you’re too close to the situation to be able to view his motives objectively. Remember you wouldn’t listen to anyone who tried to warn you about Aiden, you were so sure.
I’m only asking you to think about this, properly think about this, because I love you and can’t bear to see you get hurt again.
Love and xxxx
Poppy and I drive to Toulouse to go wedding dress shopping. I practically had to kidnap her to get her here, so strong is her dislike of clothes shopping. Typically, she has left it really late, convinced she will find something off-the-peg that won’t need any alterations.
We park beneath the Place du Capitole and exit the car park in the corner adjacent to the incredibly impressive Capitole building. The long, neo-classical facade dominates the vast square but the other three sides are lined with restaurants and shops.
‘Maybe I could just get a nice dress that isn’t a wedding dress?’ Poppy suggests, eying the shops up with as much enthusiasm as any hermit forced into a city centre to shop. ‘I still don’t know why you wouldn’t let me buy a dress off of the internet.’
‘Seriously?’ I loop my arm through hers, just in case she was thinking of making a break for it. ‘Because you can’t see it or touch it, never mind know if it is going to fit. For such an important occasion you just can’t leave it to chance.’
‘Mum wants me to wear her veil,’ Poppy says glumly as we head to a bridal shop I’ve marked on the map on my phone.
‘Have you ever thought of saying no?’
‘To Mum?’ Poppy looks horrified. ‘I’ve tried a few times but somehow it always comes out as yes. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.’
‘But this is your wedding, Poppy.’
‘Ha. I wish we could just elope, but we can’t do that to Leo’s parents. They are so looking forward to showing us off to the whole village. Oh, and apparently all the villagers expect to be invited in for an aperitif after the ceremony and would be incredibly offended not to be included.’
‘I’m glad we haven’t got to worry about that part of the proceedings. I know Madame Dubois will have it well in hand. I suppose it’s hard because you’ve got French and English wedding traditions and the different expectations of your parents and his to consider.’
Poppy exhales loudly. ‘Haven’t I just?’
‘Is it getting to you?’
I spot the shop we’re looking for and head towards it.
‘A bit.’
‘Have you told Leo?’
She sighs. That’s a no then.
‘Why not?’
‘He’s got a lot going on at the moment and with his dad being so ill recently he’s just focused on making it perfect for his parents. I don’t think he’s really thought about the culture clash. He doesn’t understand why planning the wedding is stressful. I get the impression all the planning is a bit more low-key here. Or he’s just being a bloke about it … I’m not sure which.’ She chews her lip.
‘Don’t let yourself get so stressed out trying to keep everyone happy, Poppy,’ I implore her. ‘Come on, you love Leo and you’re going to have a beautiful wedding reception at the Château. At least the groom came with the Château so you don’t have to worry about venues.’
She manages a small smile.
I head for the shop entrance, but Poppy goes to look at the window display first, instead of going to the front door.
‘That one. I want that dress.’ She points at an elegant dress on the mannequin making up the main display. It’s quite modern in style; it could almost be an evening dress. There is a little lace at the neckline and on the sleeves but apart from that it’s a plain pearly silk. It gathers loosely at the waist with a silky tie instead of having a fitted bodice and it then flows down, pooling in a silky swirl at floor length.
‘It’s beautiful but it is literally the first dress you’ve seen. You haven’t even set foot in the shop, never mind tried it on, and we still have appointments at two more places. Don’t you think we should have a look around a bit first?’
‘I want that one.’ Poppy’s tone is resolute.
‘It does look lovely and I can see you in it actually.’ I steer her to the doorway. ‘But let’s try a few others, just in case.’
Because Poppy has trouble saying no to everyone, including me and the shop owner, she does obediently try on six other dresses but we leave with the first dress that Poppy saw and cancel the other appointments. As luck would have it they had one in her size and it’s a good fit. The hem is a little long and I have to talk Poppy out of doing the alterations herself, reminding her she has a book deadline before her wedding. Luckily, I persuade her that Madame Dubois would most likely be delighted to alter the hem for her. As she makes all her own clothes it’s an easy favour to ask.
‘So, are you happy?’ I ask Poppy.
We are sipping ice-cold drinks, sitting at an outside table of one of the cafés overlooking the main square. Well, I’m sipping. She’s mostly biting her lip and staring into the distance.
‘Poppy?’ I prompt her.
‘Sorry, what?’ She turns and looks at me, expression blank.
‘Are you happy with your dress?’
‘Oh, the dress, yes, it’s perfect,’ she replies absently.
‘What’s wrong then?’
‘Mum’s veil is really old-fashioned. It just won’t go with the dress. I don’t know what to do.’ She stares at a bead of condensation running down the outside of her glass and traces its path with her finger.
I ponder for a moment before speaking.
‘Okay, so don’t do it over the phone or by Skype, do it by email where you can think about your words more carefully,’ I suggest and take another sip of my fresh orange juice. It’s a hot day and the cold drink is very welcome. ‘How about saying that “the style of dress just won’t work with the veil – sorry, Mum. Though I do like the thought of incorporating something of yours into the ceremony.” How about that? Would that work, do you think?’
‘Maybe.’ Poppy’s expression is a little more hopeful and she drinks her drink instead of playing with the glass. ‘She can be very …’
‘Persuasive?’
‘Stubborn, manipulative and unable to see anyone else’s point of view … was what I was going to say.’ Poppy pulls a face.
‘Okay, well, failing all diplomatic measures we could get Flump to run off with it on the day,’ I suggest. ‘All I need to do is put it within his reach, tell him not to touch it and he’ll think running off with it is a great game and a way to get me to chase him.’
‘That’s true.’ Poppy actually smiles this time. ‘Great idea. Thanks, JoJo.’
‘So, are we taking the mature and sensible solution or the cowardly one?’
‘Fuck mature and sensible,’ Poppy says, her grin reminding me why I like her so much.
‘It seems having a puppy with a taste for larceny might actually come in handy. Who knew?’
‘Ah, Flump is adorable. Don’t worry about the stealing, I’m sure he’ll grow out of it. Anyway, tell me, how are things with you, JoJo?’ Poppy fixes her attention on me suddenly. ‘Sorry I’ve been so self-obsessed lately.’
She hasn’t. She is one of the most sensitive and least self-obsessed people I know but there’s no point telling her so. She just gets anxious about things and when that happens it’s like she gets lost in her own head. That’s how she described it to me one time. I think it has something to do with her creativity.
‘I am okay, thanks. You don’t need to worry about me, just focus on your wedding and your deadline.’
I honestly don’t want to add my worries to everything she already has on her mind.
‘You and Cal seem … friendly,’ she says, her mouth twitching.
‘If that is a euphemism for shagging like rabbits then yes, we are friendly.’ I laugh.
‘So everything is … okay?’
‘I suppose so.’ I shrug. ‘I mean the chemistry is off the scale.’
‘So why only “suppose so”?’
‘It’s because it is off the scale that I’m worried.’ I pause and decide how best to explain it. ‘It scares me that I’ll get swept away by it. Like I did with Aiden.’
‘Is it the same as it was with Aiden though?’
‘No, it’s far more intense. It’s more everything … That’s what worries me. I don’t feel in control and if it’s more everything, that means I could be even more badly hurt than I was before.’
‘In control isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know,’ Poppy says. ‘If I’d stayed in control I wouldn’t have got together with Leo and be getting married soon.’
‘And you wouldn’t be worrying about veils either.’
‘True but even with all the wedding stress you know I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t do anything differently.’
‘I know,’ I say, and I know the conversation is purely academic because I wouldn’t do anything differently either. Maybe I just needed to vent my anxiety, to get it out of my system. But as we drive home, I’m still plagued by a niggle, the niggle that says I’ve opened myself up to a whole world of hurt.
‘I think Flump has lost one of his puppy teeth.’ I get up off of my bedroom floor and hold it up to show Cal, who is still in my bed. Flump looks up with curiosity.
‘What are you going to do? Put it under his dog-bed cushion for the puppy tooth fairy to find?’ Cal jokes.
‘What a sweet idea.’ I laugh. ‘He can wake up to find a duck strip dog treat in its place in the morning.’
‘You’re really going to do it, aren’t you? You’re nuts about that puppy.’
I shrug. ‘Maybe. You’ve got to admit you’re pretty fond of him too.’
‘He’s a little thief.’
‘But such a cute one.’
Flump takes a flying leap onto the bed and sits on Cal’s chest, staring solemnly down at him.
‘Okay, he’s cute, I’ll give you that,’ Cal says and as though he’s understood every word Flump turns in a couple of circles and settles down on Cal to sleep. ‘It looks like I’m stuck here. My services as a dog bed are required.’
Would it be so bad to be stuck here? I want to ask him but don’t know how. Don’t dare to is probably closer to the truth.
I climb into bed next to Cal and cuddle up, taking some comfort from the warmth of his body next to mine. It’s been a couple of days since I talked to Poppy, but my niggles haven’t gone away. In fact, they seem to be doing overtime at the moment, but I’ve looked at my calendar and suspect they’re getting a fair bit of help from my not so friendly monthly hormones. I know from experience that this is not a great time of the month to pick a fight or start a serious discussion, no matter how much I might be itching to get Cal to declare exactly what his intentions towards me are.
There’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. Nothing wrong with the fact Cal hasn’t told me he loves me. I mean I haven’t told him either and it’s his actions, not his words, that matter, surely?
After five minutes of cuddling, Flump settling in between us, I crack and opt for the one thing I know will make things better.
‘I really need some chocolate.’
‘By chocolate I’m assuming you mean some of that highly processed sugar masquerading as chocolate I’ve seen you eating. Why don’t I make you a nice chocolate dessert like a mousse or a chocolate cheesecake for later? That way I know you’re getting good-quality ingredients.’
‘No, I need chocolate. But thank you,’ I say and mentally tell my hormones to cool it, he is only looking out for me and wants me to eat well. The hormones gnash their teeth a bit but agree to hold off savaging him for a while.
‘Why do you need chocolate?’ Cal looks bemused and my hormones do a little more teeth gnashing while I try to rein in my more irritable than usual temper. He doesn’t deserve it. I probably ought to warn him about the savage hormones – it’s only fair.
‘Let’s just say savage hormones are soothed when you feed them chocolate. It distracts them and stops them attacking,’ I reply as patiently as I can. ‘Science proves it’s true.’
Cal pulls me into a hug and Flump manages to stick his head beneath Cal’s armpit so he can be a part of it.
‘Are you sure about that?’ His lips quirk.
Damn, I’d hoped mentioning science would get him onside and appeal to his inner geek, but I might’ve known he’d expect me to reference the actual research.
‘You don’t believe me?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He merely raises an eyebrow back at me. I pretend to huff but don’t pull away from the hug.
‘Okay, so science actually says the darker and purer the chocolate the better, but my hormones happen to be very partial to Maltesers.’ I eye him with mock seriousness. ‘My hormones are so savage they have been known to mug an old lady for a Malteser. They also bite the heads off innocent males who get too close. The guilty ones too obviously.’
‘Is that so?’ The corners of Cal’s mouth twitch as though he really wants to smile but is trying to suppress it, unsure just how hormonal I am. ‘You know it is possible you are just a little low in magnesium. Have you tried—’
‘Don’t tell me to eat a sodding banana. I’ve had two bananas and a magnesium tablet already today. I really need chocolate.’
‘Would you like me to go out and get you some?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘You know, if you wanted chocolate you should’ve just said so at the start of the conversation …’ He grins wickedly and slips quickly out of bed before I can get to him.
Not that I was really going to swat him. He’s going out for chocolate for me, and that makes him a modern knight on horseback as far as I’m concerned.
Words are easy. Small, everyday actions speak louder.
I’d rather focus on the trees right in front of me than worry about the bigger picture of the wood I can’t see. I have Cal here and now and I want to enjoy him without worrying about what might come next.