Turning Thirty Read Online Free Page B

was a terrible girlfriend. Not only did she do all of the things mentioned, she bought exotic items like star anise or kumquats, promising to ‘do something’ with them. Then she’d put them in a bowl in the kitchen and leave them to rot.
    We walked down to the subway platform and waited for the D train. As usual, the platform was crowded above and beyond the call of duty. I took a brief look around. There were people reading newspapers, people trying to read the newspaper of the person standing next to them, people eating Pop Tarts, and people just staring into space. I think we were the only people over-analysing a recently deceased relationship.
    â€˜I wasn’t perfect either,’ I said, taking up our conversation again.
    â€˜No, you weren’t,’ she said quietly. ‘But at least you tried. Anyway, now you’re free of all that. Free to look for Ms Perfect.’
    â€˜What’s she like, this Ms P?’
    â€˜Hmm, let’s see. What type of woman do you like?’ She thought for a moment. ‘She’ll be older than me – more your kind of age – so that she’ll get all the references to your jokes without you having to explain them. She’ll be British too, for exactly the same reason. She’ll dress well but not overly trendy and when you’re with her you’ll feel comfortable. And when you look into her eyes you’ll feel like you’ve come home.’ She paused, then added, ‘Oh, and she’ll have a pair of puppies so perky you positively won’t know what to do with yourself.’
    â€˜Interesting,’ I replied vaguely. ‘Very interesting.’
    â€˜And what about my next bloke?’ said Elaine, over-pronouncing the word ‘bloke’, on purpose as if to to say, ‘I’ll miss you and your curious English words.’ ‘What will my next hunk o’ love be like?’
    I sniffed, then scratched my chin and did all the other actions you’re supposed to do when mulling over a question. ‘All right,’ I said, once I’d annoyed her with my pantomime. ‘He’s about twenty-one, maybe even twenty. He’s still at college. He’s studying drama. He has loads of cool friends who are actors and writers and he DJs at a club downtown at the weekend. And on a Saturday night you’ll stay up until Sunday morning just talking. And when he’s with you, he’ll make you feel like the centre of the universe.’
    Elaine arched her left eyebrow. ‘Not bad, Mr Beckford, not bad at all. Have you been reading my diary?’
    â€˜No,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t that hard. I just tried to think of someone who wasn’t me.’
    The train arrived and we struggled through the doors before everyone else and got the last two seats next to each other. As we settled ourselves the carriage filled up until everyone seated had their own personal standing passenger leaning into them in rhythm with the train movements. Elaine got out a novel she was reading so I thought perhaps we’d finished talking, but after a few moments she stopped and laid it face down on her lap.
    â€˜Matt?’ The question in her voice indicated that I was the source of her inability to read her book. ‘If you knew things were wrong between us why didn’t you say anything?’
    â€˜Hmmm.’ I stalled. ‘Good question.’
    I was playing for time because the answer to her question was simple: I was turning thirty. Elaine was supposed to be the one I was going to turn thirty with. I’d had it all planned out. The fact that things hadn’t been going well between us wasn’t at the top of my agenda. All I knew was that I had to stick to the plan and not be alone. And because of that I’d seen hope where there wasn’t any. I’d wanted to try and save that which was well and truly beyond salvation.
    â€˜Bees,’ I said, eventually as I noted that