Domestic Blisslessness

James opened the dishwasher and set about his daily rearrangement of the crockery, cutlery, glasses and saucepans randomly dumped there by Natalie.  On the top shelf he repositioned toppled mugs against the side before neatly slotting in his wine glass.  He watched as red dregs trickled down and dropped onto the plate underneath.  His attention turned to the bottom layer.  The four plates that had been set down diagonally were taking up all the space.  Once he had placed them parallel there was room for the other three that Natalie had put in what surely she must know was the cereal bowl area. That felt good.  Finally he addressed the chaos in the bright orange cutlery container.  If a spoon is put in face down it won’t get clean, as simple as that.  And it makes sense to lay all the spoons in one section, the knives in another and so on.  That way, once clean it’s easy to lift them up together and drop them into the appropriate part of the cutlery drawer.  Surely Natalie hadn’t deliberately placed one spoon in each of the eight spaces.  He picked them up and spun them round before neatly relocating them.  His right hand was coated in sticky porridge remains as a result of the exercise. 

As he washed his hands the Eastenders signature tune belted out from the lounge.  Did he hate the tune because he hated the programme or did it merit contempt in its own right? 

Natalie was in there ironing.  She had banned James from tackling her clothes because he was a lazy ironer.  Enthusiastic, but ultimately lazy.  Ironing boards are designed the way they are so that tee shirts, blouses and jumpers can be opened up to allow each side to be pressed separately.  Despite constant reminders and more recently admonishment, James continued to iron the whole item in one go resulting in unattractive lines created by the fabric joins on the other side.  Of all the unlikely couples on Albert Square, Jack Branning and Chelsea are not two who you would dream of putting together, but it looks like they’re about to give it a go.  Worth watching Eastenders for that alone, Natalie thought as she smoothed out a pair of socks before running the iron over them.  James thought she was bonkers doing them, but unironed cotton was uncomfortable to the point of abrasiveness whereas her socks were smooth and soft.

James poured himself another glass of Merlot.  He liked taking out a fresh glass for each drink, somehow the remaining micro dregs in a used glass interfered with the taste.  Probably all in the mind, he conceded, but he’d been doing it for years and saw no reason to change even though Natalie couldn’t understand it.  There was a lot Natalie didn’t understand.  Like why it was unhygienic, let alone looked awful, when a hardened ball of toothpaste built up on the dispenser. He’d developed a simple tactic to prevent this problem. It was all to do with the method used to get the toothpaste out in the first place.  The predicament was easily avoided by running the little plastic end of the container over the toothbrush.  Just a light touch needed, nothing dramatic.

“Look Natalie, I want to show you something,” he’d said.  And she was instructed how to do it.

“You’re pathetic,” she’d responded.  The toothpaste blobs had persisted and he was inclined to think that it was a deliberate act of defiance.

Eastenders was over and Natalie hadn’t got very far with her pile of clothes.  Never mind, she’d have to stop because she had loads of marking to do.  James hated her bringing work home.  If it was me I’d organise it so that I could get marking done during lessons, he’d said.  That’s what my teachers used to do.  Well they must have been bloody lazy, she’d replied.  With what she would admit to as spite she’d added that independent schools were only after money and didn’t much care about their students or the quality of teaching.  All those teachers had to do was the pretty easy task of getting predominantly bright and motivated kids through exams.  A simple job compared to hers what with the discipline problems, some parents regularly in to complain and others who you wanted to see never turning up, administration driving you up the wall.  James was always on the defensive when she went on about the unfair privilege of independent schools.  She’d gone to an ordinary comprehensive and had done fine.  If completely honest he’d have to admit that he wouldn’t have got into Oxford if he hadn’t been force-fed exam answers and been given countless interview practice sessions.  It’s not as if he did well when he got to university.  But good enough for his dad to wangle a job for him at the bank.

James switched on the computer and grimaced in the face of the untidy array of icons that filled the screen.  He accessed internet and clicked into Favourites.  He moved the cursor past the endless random list that Natalie had created until he reached the ‘James’ folder.  Inside this his favourites were neatly subdivided into sub-folders with the exception of YouTube which was a stand-alone.   He switched on the speakers and began to watch the most frequent hits of the day.

He started laughing.  “This can’t be real.  Natalie, come and look at this, there’s a group of scientists dipping a cheeseburger into hydrochloric acid.  Quick, they’re analysing the results.  Natalie!”

“I’m working, James.  I’ve got tons of marking.”

”Not again.  It’d be nice if you spent some time with me in the evenings.”

“Watching YouTube.  What a lovely offer.”

“Sod off,” he mumbled under his breath as he turned up the speaker volume.  He typed in ‘heavy metal music’, selected Savage Circus playing something called Between the Devil and the Seas just based on the title and the look of the Neanderthal-like men in the picture, and let it blast.  It was a good choice, a piercing shriek preceded heavy guitar chords and a pounding drum beat.

“James!  Turn it down.”  He did, he’d made his point.  It was crap anyway so he typed in ‘latest films’ and watched some trailers.

Natalie had cooked vegetarian lasagne.  She knew James didn’t much like it, he always wanted meat and had never been keen on cooked cheese either.   She’d made avocado and mozzarella as a starter.  The perfect meal to piss him off.  And he deserved it because she was still very bitter about The Birthday Present.  He’d bought her a Wii Fit.

“This’ll help you get rid of some of that flabby stomach, Natalie,” he’d said as he patted her belly.  Now that could be taken as a joke, but the way things were going between them she wasn’t convinced.  The fact that sex had pretty well dried up was a fair old indication that things were going wrong.  When they first lived together, coming up to four years ago, they’d done it every couple of days, now it had dropped to less than once a fortnight.  No actually much less, once a month more like it.  The last time had been the previous Monday when he’d come back drunk from some office do, and afterwards he’d called out ‘Sophie’ in his sleep. 

“Who’s Sophie?” she’d enquired at breakfast next morning.

“She’s my P.A.  Why d’you ask?”

“You called out her name in your sleep.”

“Probably dreaming about her getting some papers ready for a meeting,” he’d replied.

There were photos of key staff on the bank’s website.  Natalie located a Sophie who was Marketing Director.  She had a pretty face in a Hello magazine sort of way.  Long blond hair of course, though darker roots you could see.  Pouting lips with scarlet lipstick, tanned, a button nose, smiling eyes. 

After work that Friday Natalie had dashed off after school to wait across the road from the bank just to catch a glimpse of Sophie.  Silly really, why bother, just curiosity.  At 5.42pm out she came.   It was summer, the best season to show off a

 beautiful body and hers was beautiful, a tight stomach for starters.  Sophie stopped at the foot of the short flight of stairs leading up to the impressively grand glass doors of the office block.  She turned, faced the entrance then smiled.  Before looking beyond the smile Natalie knew what she would see.  James came bounding down the stairs, put his arms round her waist, then they kissed.  The sort of kiss she wasn’t getting any more.

He lifted his mobile and dialled.  Her own phone rang.

“Hi Natalie, everything OK with you?  Look an emergency’s cropped up at work so I’m going to be late.”

“That’s a pity love, what a cheek making you stay there on a Friday.  I’m cooking vegetable moussaka, shall I save you some?”

“No, no need for that.  Thanks for thinking of me though.”

“I always think of you, my sweet.  Hey James, just make sure you don’t work too hard.”

“I’ll try not to.  Love you, Natalie.”

“Love you too.”

He ended the call and Natalie watched James and Sophie walk off, holding hands just like they used to do.

She dialled.  “Hey Ryan, good news, James is out this evening.  Can you make it over?....Great, I’ll be home in about half an hour so get to me at 7.00….Love you too, Ryan.” 

Ryan arrived on the dot of 7.00 with a bunch of pink carnations and a bottle of sparkling rosé pinot grigio.  He opened the bottle and poured out two glasses as Natalie served up their chicken, sweet potato and coconut curry. 

Ryan was an art teacher at the school where Natalie worked.  He’d joined in September and with his sharp features, long jet black curly hair, that single earring, the tattoo on the back of his neck, his slim powerful physique, all this made him an instant hit with the younger female teachers and by all accounts the sixth form girls too.  She’d done well to be the one he most fancied, the one he’d asked out, particularly bearing in mind they weren’t going to be able to meet up regularly what with her having a partner.   But, and he kept telling her this, she was more than worth the wait.  Anyway he was involved in so many art projects he needed to spend hours alone in his studio.

Sex with Ryan was bliss. After dinner they went upstairs and he undressed her.

“Now let me see that flabby belly of yours,” he mocked as he knelt down to kiss it.  “I’m glad to see the Wii Fit seems to be working.  And it’s improving this bit,” he added as his tongue began to explore her body.  She laughed, Ryan always made her laugh and he did a lot more for her, too.

“You are so beautiful Natalie,” Ryan said as they lay side by side naked and fulfilled.

“Yeah, I know.  Ready?”

“Sure am.”

They dressed quickly.

“Bathroom first?”  Ryan suggested. 

In the bathroom Ryan scattered the various shower gels and shampoos in the rack, placing one of the bottles on its side.  He removed the lid to enable the thick green liquid to drip onto the bath surface. 

“Look at this,” Natalie called out, holding up the toothpaste dispenser with a thick blob of already hardening paste exposed near the nozzle.

In the kitchen Natalie set to work in the dishwasher while Ryan opened one of the food cupboards.  With considerable modern artistic merit he dismantled the tiered stacks to create chaos, hiding small spice jars behind the largest cans of vegetables.  Next he tackled the wine rack, shuffling the bottles to mix up the whites and reds.

“Computer next,” Natalie suggested.  She switched on, knocked off the Auto Arrange that James had set up the previous evening and moved the icons randomly across the screen.

Ryan joined her.  “You can add loads more icons, you know.  Just make a shortcut for any programme.”  Natalie did know but decided not to dampen his playful enthusiasm.  She let him fill up the screen and when he was satisfied she deleted YouTube from James’s Favourites list. 

“I think that’ll do, in fact maybe you should go now just in case,” Natalie said.  “But here’s some good news, James is definitely playing golf on Sunday so I can come over to yours.  About 2.00, is that OK?”

“Can’t wait.” 

As soon as Ryan left Natalie dashed upstairs to change the sheets and take a quick shower.  She was sitting downstairs in her nightwear marking English essays on Austen when James came home.

She looked up with a broad welcoming smile.  “Hello love.  That’s good, you’re back much earlier than you thought.”

“Yeah, the meeting didn’t drag on.”

“All go well?”

“As good as a Friday evening meeting can go.  What have you been doing?”

“Marking, I’ve got loads this weekend.”

“I’m getting a glass of wine.  Want one?”

“No thanks James, I’m not drinking tonight.  Too busy, I need a clear head.”

“Suit yourself.”

She heard the clink of glass as wine bottles were pulled out of the rack and re-ordered.  A louder clatter resonated as the cutlery and crockery in the dishwasher was realigned.

Then it was quiet for a short while before James came into the lounge carrying the empty bottle of sparkling rosé pinot grigio.  Ryan had forgotten to put it in their recycling bin on his way out. 

James held it up.  “I thought you weren’t drinking tonight, Natalie.”

“James, perhaps it’s time we talked.”