One Day

by David Nicholls

At twenty-seven, Emma wonders if she’s getting old. She used to pride herself on her refusal to see two sides of an argument, but increasingly she accepts that issues are more ambiguous and complicated than she once thought. Certainly she doesn’t understand the next two news items, which concern the Maastricht Treaty and the war in Yugoslavia. Shouldn’t she have an opinion, take a side, boycott something?

She wondered if she was doomed to be one of those people who spend their lives trying things. She had tried being in a band, writing plays and children’s books, she had tried acting and getting a job in publishing.

He sighed, a glass of wine in his hand, then spoke flatly. ‘Those who can, do, those who can’t, teach …’ She spat the words. ‘And those who teach say go fuck yourself.’ And now his glass of wine was in his lap as Emma shoved the table away and jumped to her feet, grabbing her bag, knocking over bottles, clattering plates as she clambered out of the booth, storming through that hateful, hateful place.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘I just don’t think you’re the person I used to know. You’re not my friend anymore. That’s all.’

‘Well off you go,’ she said. ‘Go to your party. You’re rid of me now. You’re free.’ With failing bravado, Dexter tried to laugh. ‘You sound like you’re dumping me!’ She smiled sadly. ‘I suppose I am in a way. You’re not who you used to be, Dex. I really, really liked the old one. I’d like him back, but in the meantime, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you should phone me anymore.’

‘Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will.’ Her lips touched his cheek. ‘I just don’t like you anymore. I’m sorry.’

‘Sometimes you are aware when your great moments are happening, and sometimes they rise from the past. Perhaps it’s the same with people.’

The speeches. As tradition demanded, the Father of the Bride was drunk and boorish, the Best Man was drunk and unfunny and also forgot to mention the Bride.

While she waited she played with her hair, willing it to grow longer.

Self-pitying, self-righteous, self-important, all the selfs except self-confident, the quality that she had always needed the most.

These days grief seems like walking on a frozen river; most of the time he feels safe enough, but there is always that danger that he will plunge through.