saturday

The day I have been dreading for months has dawned. I feel it is fitting that the skies are unsettled, it’s quite humid and the weather forecasters predicted heavy rain in the south-east.

For today is the day I will find myself in the company of Holier-Than-Thou, the wife of Marathon Man. She hates me. No, that’s unfair, she doesn’t hate me. Rather she regards me as you would a gnat at a summer picnic: insignificant and to be swatted away, but still annoyingly spoiling the perfect day.

When she first met me she viewed me with suspicion, and to be fair to her, I can understand why. Not only was I her new boyfriend’s closest female friend, I was also his late wife’s BFF. But I was just so glad that Marathon Man had found someone who made him happy after so many years of heartbreak, loneliness and despair and welcomed her with open arms.

Holier-Than-Thou didn’t really make a terribly good impression on most of Marathon Man’s inner circle when we met her for the first time, but we knew that afternoon must have been nerve-wracking for her, which led to a couple too many beers, which led to awkward behaviour.

The next time I met her was in New Y0rk when I was there with a friend. Again, Holier-Than-Thou was over-bearing and rude but this time I put it down to me being tired and not at my best. The next time was only a few weeks later when she and Marathon Man were fleetingly in London. We met for dinner with another member of the inner circle and Holier-Than-Thou’s greeting was “wow, Illanare, seems like wherever we go, there you are”.

For the life of me, I couldn’t spin that into something nice.

And then Marathon Man and Holier-Than-Thou’s wedding. It took place in New York State where they live and the BFG and I flew all the way over there for the occasion. It cost a lot of money and precious annual leave but, hey – I was glad to do it to see Marathon Man happy. Holier-Than-Thou spoke to me twice over those four days. Once to tell me that there wasn’t a spare seat in the station wagon for me and so would I please climb in through the tailgate and sit in the boot (trunk). The other time was to ask me to not take photos at the wedding reception (everyone else could, that was a request just for me).

Again, could not spin that into something nice.

And finally, the last time I was in her company was almost exactly 3 years ago. They were over in England, staying with Marathon Man’s brother who had organised a surprise party with dozens of friends in attendance. When Marathon Man finally had a chance to come and greet me (several hours in to the evening), he and I had enough time to clink our wine glasses together and say “hey you” before Holier-Than-Thou came up, took him by the arm and dragged him out to another room.

Even the BFG, a man notorious for seeing the good in people, thought that was a bit odd. “I don’t think she likes you,” he observed.

And why the name Holier-Than-Thou? Because at that very first meeting all those years ago, she announced to the assembled company that “unless you were a parent, you just wouldn’t get it”.