Tales of catastophe, sex and squalor from the Alpine Underbelly...

Belle de Neige

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Man.The Fuck. Up.

Song for the day: Missing - Everything but the Girl

The orphans have been screaming my dears. It's been a few weeks since I came back and a few days ago I realised I hadn't cried, not once, since I was in England. Belle has been struggling. Dappy is not the word. One half of my brain full of the lack of Shazzer in my life, the other half of my brain concentrating mainly on pleasure-seeking to fill the void and cancel out the pain. Skiing. SbH. Drinking. More drinking.

Consequently I have, in the last 3 weeks, crashed a minibus into a chalet, lost my work phone, arrived late to take someone to the airport, forgotten to do countless chores, broken about a thousand glasses and just generally been distracted, useless and dippy.

On top of that, L went home for a bit because her skin was basically peeling from her body thanks to all the chemicals in the cleaning products. H got to the end of her tether and nearly left too, because F-the-Chef went home with Septicemia. Well. It's been a depressing few weeks.

But the orphans stopped screaming today. A good cry over the cafetiere, some hugs from F-the-Chef (who is now back from home), a boil in the jacuzzi in Marks & Sparks' chalet and a ski in the sun set me to rights.

Loss is a funny thing. It bites you in the arse when you're least expecting it. There have been so many jokes and escapades we would have laughed about together in the last few weeks. That sense of emptiness when you snigger to yourself about something only she would appreciate and reach for the phone, only to recollect there's no one at the other end - that sense never goes away.

And the thing is I've lost the two most pivotal women in my life now.

One of our clients wears Safari perfume. That is what my mother used to wear. Yesterday I spritzed a little on my wrist and was transported back to a moment in time. It's a fragrant summer day and my Mum is drying her hair in front of her dressing table mirror, makeup spread out on the glass surface, the window open a little, the curtain floating in the breeze. The shape of her hands, the tilt of her head. Her eyes rise up to mine in the mirror as I enter the room in a towel and her voice chimes a greeting. I want to borrow some jewelery - that little brooch she has with the bird on it and the ruby eye. Safari perfume hangs faintly in the air in the room.

We have to content ourselves with these moments now. They are locked away in little boxes in our minds. And we only stumble across the keys to them at random. But when one is opened, it's a treat to bask in the sun of a little memory, until it fades again, and the loved one is gone, like sand through our fingers.

2 comments:

  1. I spent two and a bit years getting drunk when i was going through my dark days and, like you had my world upside down and back to front. Its an odd place where you are, everything is an extreme of emotions and events and I had some of my funnest times in the blackest nights. just as Dickens said; "it was the best of times,it was the worst of times" (or something like that).

    A few years on I had *that* someone tell me that walking through a crowd he smelt my perfume and ran back to try and find me. Funny - it's the most powerful of our senses and brings back a million memories in a few fleeting seconds. Funny how a person's soul can be wrapped up in a waft of perfume x

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  2. I once told a friend that my sense of smell ruled my world and he laughed at me long and hard. Dick head. And what a beautiful fragrance too - i just adore Safari.

    Em, why don't you buy yourself a bottle and wear it every day for the next few months, you might really feel an even greater inner strength. Or maybe you are just meant to smell it at pertinent moments in your life, so perhaps buying a bottle isn't part of the game, and we should leave it to Our Maker.

    You are an incredible girlie Em, can't wait to have you back here, under the same sky as me again.

    Big hug xxxx
    oh - and by the way your writing is freaking awesome. I could read your words for hours.

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