VALENTINE’S SPECIAL: TWO TOP WRITERS ON THE SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE TOGETHER
‘The both of us treat it as just another ordinary day in paradise’
On Valentine’s Day, we ask two happily married writers how they found ‘The One’ and what’s the secret of long-lasting happiness
Ididn’t meet my husband Ray until I was in my 30s, by which time I suppose you could say I knew what I was after. We met at the Fatboy Slim concert at Botanic Gardens in 2002. He wasn’t meant to be there but his mates forced him to go. I saw a tall, good-looking guy with a red Hoxton fin slither through the crowd, like Jaws dipped in ketchup. We got chatting and I brought out my go-to conversation piece when I’m on the pull — football. Nothing says ‘she’s a keeper’ like knowing the offside rule.
I pretty much knew he was ‘the one’ from the off. He wasn’t a game-player and we just seemed to click. On our first proper date, at Spuds on Bradbury Place, I told him I wanted to do a lot more travelling and if he wasn’t up for that then we had a problem. Luckily for me, he was and a couple of years later we both took off for eight months of travelling around Europe and on the Trans-Siberian Railway.
Nothing brings a couple together like seven days crammed into a dingy train cabin traversing the Russian wilderness with no one else for company but a large Russian stewardess overseeing the samovar and a Swiss student on a gap year. Which is probably why we had such a memorable time and, amazingly, rarely argued. Though, in fairness, this was probably due to the fact that we were living a work and childfree existence of pure self-indulgent bliss. For the uninitiated, arguments properly kick in when the children arrive.
Aside from the travel bug, the other thing I really liked about Ray quite early on was his attitude towards money. The dreaded lucre has long been an unwelcome third party in relationships. If you and your partner don’t agree on when to spend and when to save, a trip to the ATM can bring giddy romance to a shuddering halt.
It might sound boring to many, but we definitely share this characteristic and that brings me a heartwarming sense of security for us and our children — Scarlett (11) and Freddie (seven).
One of the times when our, how shall I put it, thriftiness, works in perfect harmony is Valentine’s Day. We don’t buy each other cards or gifts. And we don’t go out for a meal … the thought of devouring our plats du jour while all around are googly-eyed makes my stomach lurch, not heart leap. We treat Valentine’s as just another ordinary day in paradise.
Another reason to give Cupid a miss is the fact that Ray’s birthday is on February 13, which adds to the welcome dilution of what I like to call Valloween. Yes, I’ll get the kids to draw a card for their dad and I might even fork out on a pressie (again from the kids). But we’ll not be spending the evening together, never mind out, and we’re both fine with that.
After a decade of marriage, two kids and a new pup, the stress of celebrating a ‘special’ day is something I am happy to avoid. So I say ditch the birthdays (after 16, except with ages ending in zero) and burst the helium heart-shaped balloons. Love is something that should be with you every day. Yes, even those days when you’re arguing over the kids.
That said, Happy Valentine’s Day, Ray. And in the words of Fatboy Slim, we’ve come a long way, baby. That’ll save me a soppy card.
After marriage, two kids and a new pup, I am happy to avoid the stress of celebrating a special day