The smile fell away. “It terrifies the life out of me, to be honest.”
“Grace’s idea, I presume?” Rosie said.
“Yes, I suppose so. But she does have a point, doesn’t she? I am stuck in a rut. Have been for years.”
“A cosy, fur-lined rut,” said Rosie. “You like your job.”
“I guess. But it’s time for a change. I’ve been there for years.”
I wanted to ask more questions, to try and find out what he really thought about the changes he was about to make. But he got in first, diverting the conversation to me.
“Anyway, how about you, Beth? How’s it going with renting your flat out?”
I pulled a face. “My tenants just moved out, actually, so I’ve got to find someone new.”
“That shouldn’t be hard, though, should it?”
“Hopefully not.”
Mark’s gaze travelled around the living room, taking in the chintz sofa, the floral curtains, and the bowl of potpourri on the coffee table. Jaimie still lived in his marital home—he’d remortgaged in order to buy Harriet out, and I suspected he’d kept the fluffy, floral things around for the girls’ sake. “I loved your old flat. It was so completely you. If you don’t mind me saying, it doesn’t look as if you’ve had the chance to leave your mark on this place yet.”
“Says the man who put all his things in storage when he got married,” scoffed Rosie.
“Not all my things.”
“Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot. You were allowed your gaming chair, just so long as it stayed in the spare bedroom.”
Mark shrugged. “Well, that is where I go to play computer games.”
“Still allowed to do that, then, are you?”
I saw a flicker of irritation cross Mark’s face.
“Put your claws back in, sis. Please. As you said, it’s nearly Christmas.”
Rosie shrugged. “I’m just saying . . .”
“Well, don’t.”
“Just looking out for my favourite brother.”
“Your only brother can look out for himself, thank you.”
It was sort of like Saturday afternoons in Mark’s flat, brother and sister sparring, me acting as the audience, only the subject matter was different. Back then, we’d all been single.
“Maybe, but I still think you’ve both changed yourselves to suit your partners. I mean, would you really have tried naturism if you hadn’t met Jaimie, Beth?”
“Probably not,” I had to admit. “But then maybe I’d have been missing out.”
Rosie laughed. “Oh, come on! The only thing naturism’s given you is a nasty head cold.”
Sometimes I wished I didn’t confide so comprehensively in Rosie. “I was probably coming down with one anyway. And anyway, naturism has given me more than that. A sense of freedom. Confidence about my body . . .”
Rosie ignored me, which was sensible. I didn’t really believe what I was saying, and Rosie, knowing me as she did, could no doubt detect that.
“Honestly, Mark, if you can believe it, Beth and Jaimie’s local naturist club organised a country walk without any clothes on. Totally starkers. In October. And she and Jaimie went on it.”
Mark was trying not to laugh. “Is that really true?”
“Well,” I said, “we did wear walking boots, so I suppose we weren’t totally naked.”
That tipped him over the edge. He began to howl, clutching his stomach.
“And it wasn’t a very long walk. Only a mile or so.”
I’d been terrified when we first set off along that track through the woods. Every rustle of autumn leaves sounded like a crowd of people approaching us. Jaimie and the others just chatted casually about the autumn colours or pointed out birds and squirrels while I kept on high alert, expecting total humiliation at any second. Agreeing to go on a naked walk had been a real test of my feelings for Jaimie.
“You’ll love it, Beth,” he’d said when he was trying to persuade me. “It’s wonderful to feel the breeze on your skin. It really puts you in touch with nature. I can’t explain it. You have to experience it for yourself.”
“Weren’t you cold?” Mark asked after he’d recovered himself enough to speak.
“A bit, I suppose, but not really. If you get naked regularly, your body becomes used to having fewer clothes on.”
“So you don’t normally have the wood burner going, then, you and Jaimie?” Rosie asked. “You just sit here in the buff?”
We had done that at first, when we were alone. I’d become used to being in the house without any clothes on. Then, when winter came round and Jaimie was working until late, I’d gone back to my jeans and jumpers.
“God only knows why you agreed to it in the first place,” Rosie said. “Just because naturism’s Jaimie’s hobby doesn’t mean you have to take it up.”
I couldn’t explain, not with Mark there, and Rosie probably wouldn’t have understood anyway. I’d just felt so grateful to Jaimie when I’d moved to Ely. So aware that if it wasn’t for him, I’d probably still be moping about my flat, longing hopelessly for something I could never have. Jaimie had brought me back to life. I’d wanted to please him.
“I didn’t start my naturism journey with the naked walk. I eased myself into it at first by taking my clothes off when we were in the garden.”
“The garden isn’t overlooked, then?” Mark asked.
“No. It’s very private. Anyway, I got used to that. Liked it, actually. It was freeing. And then the next step was going for a drink at the club bar.”
I hadn’t liked to refuse when Jaimie had suggested that either. Deep down, I hadn’t wanted to go at all. Well, not even deep down, I suppose. But just as he’d done later on with the naked walk, Jaimie had somehow managed to persuade me it would be a life-affirming experience.
“What was that like?” Mark asked.
I shrugged. “It turns out a glass of chardonnay tastes the same whether you’re wearing clothes or not. And pub bores are pretty much the same whether they’re naked or dressed. Except, if they’re naked, you have to make eye contact with them a bit more than you probably would do normally.”
Once again Mark laughed, then sat there, staring into the flames, shaking his head. Probably imagining me naked. God.
“To get back to my original point,” persisted Rosie, “in my opinion, both of you have sold out. You’ve changed yourselves to try and suit your partners, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. They ought to love you just as you are.”
I looked down at my dress, suddenly feeling a bit bleak, then noticed Mark sit up a little straighter in his seat.
“Relationships are all about compromise, though, aren’t they? Perhaps your inability to accept that is the reason you and Giorgio keep splitting up.”
There was silence for a moment. Because I knew why she and Giorgio had split up, I felt really bad for Rosie.
“You know nothing about it.”
“You don’t know anything about my and Beth’s relationships, but that doesn’t stop you voicing an opinion, does it?”