Friends

8, June 2013

THE SON:

For the last week we have had quite a few guests come and visit. The first one was Simon, my friend’s father, someone who has been incredibly supportive and generous to my family and me in regards to helping with my addiction, financially as well as emotionally— he paid for my rehab in Cape Town. He wanted to come visit, as we hadn’t seen each other since the beginning of the year, in London. It was quite surreal seeing him up here in the country but it was one of the most enjoyable weekends that I’ve had since coming back to live permanently in this village last September. He came for dinner, which I’d cooked: wasabi salmon and then pavlova (Simon had three helpings!) and everyone was so at ease and comfortable, and we had lots of laughs.

THE MOM:

I now see both Son and Mom have zeroed in on same subject: guests. We’ve indeed had a week of company and a fine time had by all (I sincerely hope, one thank you note already in, two to go) but you get out of synch with normal life, suddenly doing a succession of three course dinners for nine, finding cute pubs for lunch and arranging shopping expeditions and dog walks with picturesque views along the reed beds so vistors can see what a fabulous area of England this is, not that anyone was doubting it, but they all went home drooling and saying how much they’d like to move here so I think we can deem our B & B efforts a success. Remind me to go for my realtors license if Home Heroin Rehab doesn’t work out.

THE SON:

My father made a good point recently about the fact that with a lot of people who have reached the level of success and wealth that Simon has, normally they don’t talk about anything other than themselves but he was genuinely interested in what we were all up to plus is a good listener, and in more ways than one: I’d asked if he’d have a listen to a score that I’d just finished for a short film I’d been asked to do by a local film school student. I was chuffed by the encouragement he gave me and by his clear enjoyment of my music but also by the fact that he actually noticed some of the techniques I’d used when composing the score, meaning he listened to it “properly”, which pleased me. The next day we went for a drive in his Ferrari and it was insane. I want one.

I can talk to Simon on the same level as one of my peers, which is how I feel about a few other adults who live up here, all of which is I’m sure down to the fact that socially I spend more time with my parents’ friends, since few of mine live locally. What’s nice is I don’t find there’s any difference anymore. Am I growing up?

Later in the week I had to give up my bedroom as my parents had out of town friends visiting, but I happily stayed at Claire’s house down the road and it was so peaceful and relaxed that I could have stayed there for another 2 weeks if needed be. Bloody comfortable bed, quiet, clean and damn rapid internet so what else would I need? I also went up to Norwich with her. I like Norwich. A beautiful city with lots of things going on. Plus a top drawer Japanese restaurant where we finished the day with a bithday dinner for her friend Beth’s dad. Incredible food. Could have eaten 3 times what I ate. (Possible sushi addiction?)

THE MOM:

The big deal for us, though, having company, was it was the first set of overnight guests we’ve had here since Alex moved home last September, mostly because I didn’t want to turf him out of his room, I needed him to feel secure and safe. Stable. Maybe should have done this more often instead of the usual “You can’t come home Friday, Alex, we have Richard here this weekend” or “You have to leave tomorrow so I can shovel out your room (not to mention fumigate) before Barbara and Oliver arrive”.

This time, though, it was Alex who voluntarily offered to move out for the visitors and stay with good friends down the road, on top of which he did a complete top-to-tail on his room and his bathroom, without being asked.

Yes, okay, it was me who, after he was “done”, washed the bathroom floor and hoovered the cobwebs from the picture rails and the dust from the antlers of the inflatable life-size moose head above the bed and removed the dead bluebottle from inside the screen and attended to a few million other things invisible to 25-year-old males but my point is, Alex thought about someone besides himself, didn’t put himself first, he rolled up his sleeves and mucked in.

And then I found out why he was so keen to tidy it himself. Tell you later. I need to pack.