The World According to Jessie

Chapter Fourteen

"...Like mother... like daughter... why couldn't I been more like my Grandmother!"

Tristan and I stared at each other for what seemed like forever. He made no attempt to get up and I made no attempt to move. It was a standoff in the middle of my Grandmother's living room. I had seen this scene unfold a thousand times with my parents and suddenly it was me and the man who claimed to love me. And we were almost at the same age as my parents when they started fighting. It was scary. Shocked at myself, I stumbled back into the chair and put my head between my knees to try and stop it from spinning.

'Whoa, what was that about?' I heard Tristan ask, causing me to raise my head. He was still on the sofa but slightly more upright and thankfully he had removed his foot from the table. Grandma Nicki would now spare his life.

'I don't know.' I shook my head. 'I just got annoyed that's all. I'm sorry.'

'Apology accepted.' He answered. 'So, what did you want to talk about that is obviously so important then?' I took another deep sigh and rehearsed the speech in my head one more time before engaging my mouth.

'Us.' I said quietly. 'I think we should talk about us. If there still is an "us"'.

'And what is that supposed to mean?' Tristan asked, not trying to hide his confusion.

'It means exactly what it's supposed to mean.' I answered. 'Is there still an us?'

'Of course there is.' He laughed something he always did when he was nervous. 'What crazy idea has entered your head to make you think otherwise?' I sighed and got up, running a hand through my hair, pulling out the ponytail as I did so.

'No crazy ideas.' I stopped by the mantelpiece and tied my hair elastic around my wrist. 'It's just the way you've been acting lately makes me think that you aren't as committed in this relationship as I am. And the last thing I want on my hands is a broken relationship. There's too many of them around me right now.'

'You have lost it coming up here, haven't you?' He said, flopping back onto the sofa. 'When you get back to London you'll feel different. Sea air and all that.'

'No Tristan, I won't feel different.' I snapped. 'It was like this in London. Six years we have been together, and not once have you mentioned that may be you might want to live with me or, even give me a hint that just may be you want to marry me.' What I was expecting was Tristan to come up with some witty retort. What I wasn't expecting was him to fall off the sofa in a hysterical laughing fit so loud, that the Barflies downstairs had now become silent (probably listening to the "entertainment" going on upstairs). I didn't know whether to be upset, appalled, angry or all of the above. It was the second time today that a man had fallen into hysterics over something I said; it was starting to become a habit.

'And what the bloody Hell is so funny?!' I yelled, my brain finally clicking into the "Take No More Crap" gear.

'You are.' He answered, between gasps of breath and laughs. 'Marriage? What bloody century are you living in Jessie? Me marry you, are you mad? No one gets married these days. And after tonight, I don't think I want to.' And I don't think Tristan knew what hit him at that moment, but I can tell you now that it was a mixture of my fist and the T.V. Remote!

'He'll live.' Dad said, as he walked into my bedroom (which I had been confined to after Granddad Mel came into the living room to see what was going on and found me trying to strangle Tristan).

'Pity.' I said, hugging my knees to my chest. Dad sighed and shook his head before jumping on my bed.

'You must have learnt from your mother that violence was the best way to solve everything.' He smiled.