Mrs Starfish

This is a story about Mrs Starfish, about finding yourself, about enjoying the now.

 

Once upon a time About ten years ago in a land far far away Amsterdam a couple had gone away for a long weekend.  Let’s, for arguments sake, call them T and B.   This couple hadn’t been away before, they had only met a few months before having both recently got divorced.  They were both fragile but wanted to learn to live again.   And maybe love again, though the immediate thought was more of making the most of a free weekend.

They picked Amsterdam as B knew it well and because flights out of England that weekend were all full (due to it being a four day Jubilee weekend) but B knew you could drive from Calais.   So they booked a ferry crossing instead.    After a late night crossing from Dover they drove through the night.   Stopping at one point for some much needed sleep, in a rest stop just off the motorway, trying to get comfortable whilst sleeping on the front seats of a VW Golf.   Mr B remembered in the boot he had a double duvet.   T knew at that moment this was one very special bloke.

Our couple had a lovely time in Amsterdam.   They walked.  They held hands.   B showed T all the places he remembered from his time living there, places off the beaten track that you wouldn’t necessarily go to just by reading a description in a tourist guide.   Simple but fabulous dinner in Humphreys.  The amazing range of beers in a bar called Gollum.   The tiny little counter that did the best chips in a cone with mayonnaise that they sat and devoured on the pavement.   Literally on the pavement.    The sunshine as they sat in a park.

B also booked dinner in a restaurant called The Supper Club and wouldn’t tell T much about it.   Simply that the food was good and it was fun.   They arrived at was just a big wooden door in a side street, with no indication this was a restaurant.   Only a simple gold plaque showed it was their destination.    Once inside it was a different world.    A magical world.  A grown up world that T had forgotten existed as she had been “just a mum” for so long.

A steep staircase led to a balcony and their “table” for the evening.  Except it wasn’t a table.  It felt like clambouring up on the top bunk, leaving your shoes in a big pile at the bottom.

At the top lay pristine white cushions, arranged around a small coffee table that was just big enough to hold an ice bucket and two glasses.   The music was loud, the place was dark without being seedy.    T peered over the balcony and watched the floor show below.  Not a sleazy Amsterdam-esque floor show but two sculptors at one table, a model on the other.   The sculptors started with two Champagne bottles and some wire, and slowly built a frame and then over the next few hours they built a life size model, with clay, of the girl.

T and B watched in amazement.   The wine flowed.  The food arrived (there was no menu, you had to trust the chef).  More wine flowed.   T and B spent a night just being them.   Being adults.  Two people enjoying each other’s company.   Putting the past years behind them.

For years to come they would disagree about how they got back to their B&B.   T would be convinced they walked.   B would insist they got a cab.   T knows they got a cab but likes to pretend otherwise because it adds to the story.    T doesn’t remember because of the wine.   Doesn’t remember getting back and into bed.   Or rather on to.

But does remember waking up fully clothed like a star fish the next morning.  A limb pointing to each corner of the bed.   The room spinning.   Becoming aware that B was nowhere to be seen.   Gone for breakfast maybe?   T walked to the bathroom.

There was B.  In the bath.   Fully clothed.   Asleep.

Mrs Starfish hadn’t left him any room on the bed.

T was reminded of all of this last night when  characters in a TV show went to Amsterdam and to the Supper Club.   When a stranger on Twitter said “I have been there too”.    And they shared their memories.

It made T smile and made her realise that it had been a long time since she smiled.    A long time since her and B had wandered hand in hand in the sunshine.   It has been a fairly rubbish few years and a particularly rubbish past few months.   All sorts of things have been chucked at them in the past ten years and they have struggled to keep going at times.

But it reminded T of the good times and that it is the simple things that make her smile.

And that life isn’t a fairy tale.  It’s hard work.  But you have to work at it.  That you have to take the rough with the smooth.  You have to have the thunderstorms to then appreciate the sunshine that follows.

That you have to sleep in the bath once in a while if you live with a starfish.

Or buy a bigger bed.

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  • Beautiful post and I’m sorry it’s been such a rough ride. But you’re right, the thunderstorms do make the sunshine all the sweeter. If life was perfect all the time we’d become complacent and not appreciate those moments of bliss. I really hope you get back to the good bits soon. Sending love. xxx

    • Thanks Molly. Splashing in puddles is good but sunshine is better. Sending hugs to you today too

  • We always have lovely memories to look back on and the usually get us through the difficult times. Hope you’re okay, lovely lady. You know where we are.

    CJ x

  • Well this is something we all need reminding of from time to time. Life as a mum can be so all-consuming and our marriage gets inevitably neglected. Thank you for sharing a beautifully written post.

  • That’s a gorgeous post. Sorry you’ve had a rubbish few months. Hopefully things will be on the up from now on and Mrs Starfish and her Bath-dweller will have a very happy (wine-fuelled) Christmas and beyond. x

  • That’s a lovely story and I hope with all my heart that things get better as I feel that T and B are such a lovely couple. Always seem happy, hiding the issues so not to burden others. I hope that T feels she can share those burdens occasionally with someone who, she has never met but feels a friendship could be there if they lived closer x

    • But the fact that there are ties to the towns between T and where the online friend might live is something that also makes T smile. And one day there will be cake at Claridges

  • What an absolutely beautiful post – you have a way with words.
    So T and B got together did they? That’s so lovely.
    I hope they’re still happy, or finding their way back to it…
    Liska x

    • T and B did get together. Are together and love each other. But sometimes life gets in the way and that gets muddied. Sometimes you have to put your umbrella up in the rain so you can see where you are going again.

  • Lovely, lovely post. Beautiful and sad and enough optimism to remind us all that there is almost always sunshine after rain. Big love to you x

  • What a lovely story; almost a fairy tale! Lady B and I have been to Gollum but not to the other places you went to – if we get back to Amsterdam one day we’ll put that right!
    Memories! So precious.

  • Lovely post. Hope you can bask in the sunshine again soon. Sometimes it’s enough just to see it peeking through the clouds so you know it is somewhere nearby.

  • This has made me cry. What a lovely post and thank you for reminding me that with the rough there is always the smooth. Thank you x

  • What a beautiful story.
    I think every relationship gets rained on over time. The real test is in whether you huddle up close together until it passes, or run for shelter in completely different directions!
    Stay close and keep warm x

    • What a lovely way of putting it from Sarah. T needs to put herself first more sweet cheeks and enjoy the smoochy love T and B have. Swim in the love!

      PS. I hear there are cheap New Years flights to Amsterdam 😉

  • Beautiful post. Life is hard sometimes but maybe T and B should take a week off, go to Barbados and enjoy the sunshine and rum, just the two of them x

  • Is it too late to book something for Christmas? Or no can do? I hope next year is better for you MummyB x

  • Such a beautiful story and delightfully written! I too have been to the Supper Club and it totally rocks!

  • That was absolutely gorgeous. Thank you for sharing, really made me smile/cry/nod xxx

  • 18 years ago a young couple J & S once went to London for the weekend, J was 22 and S was 17, they stayed in a posh hotel, went to the theatre and meandered about.
    It rained lots that weekend, J & S got soaked. To this day S still loves the rain because it reminds her of running through the rain streaked streets of London giggling hand and hand with J. Laughing in the rain not something everyone does but something everyone should do.

    I know things have been tough for T & B, but T & B have T & B.

    T does smile, T makes others smile too. T makes S smile. S also needs to smile more. xxx

  • What a beautifully written post…I haven’t spent much time with you, but you seem such a lovely lady and fully deserving of many happy times and smiles…really hope 2013 brings you more of the good times xxx

  • Awwww this is beautiful. I can almost picture it the way you describe it. The Supper Club sounds like a really special place.

  • I really loved reading this T. What a magical trip. I think it’s probably time for a revisit, yes?