Rows? We even argue about our arguments!
LAURA: Jason is a caring man. He looks after both of us; he does pretty much everything. No matter how upset I am, he will put up with it.
If I come second, I’ll be devastated. He understands. He’ll take the mickey afterwards too – ‘You came second? Second?’ – and sometimes he’ll do it too soon. If he gets knocked out in the first round, he will laugh about it straight away. With me he has to leave it about a week or so.
Jason is good at lots of things. He taught himself to play guitar. He cooks. He does a pie that could win prizes. He washes up. I’m the woman who tried to grill a baked potato and set fire to my flat.
He is terrible at being tidy. One corner of our bedroom is taken over by his floordrobe, a big pile of clothes that all smell. He claims it is a system: clean clothes in the traditional wardrobe; dirty ones in the clothes basket; ones with another wear in them in the floordrobe.
I don’t agree with it. It just stinks, so it should be put into the washing machine. Occasionally I’ll put the entire floordrobe into the wash.
He goes ballistic. I come back in and he’s rooting through the machine after its cycle like he’s left his wallet and phone in there.
JASON: Laura and I are not identical characters. I always get up first, as soon as the dogs wake me; Laura will stay in bed.
She might tell you I’m messier than her. The floordrobe will wind her up. In the kitchen the same rules don’t appear to apply. I can be cleaning the kitchen and Laura will just happily sit on the sofa. If I’m sitting on the sofa and Laura is starting housework, she’ll put the vacuum on its noisiest setting and start jabbing me in the ankles with it until I say: ‘I’ll get involved, shall I?’
We’ll argue about that. We argue about what we argue about. Laura will send me detailed essays on WhatsApp, specifying the sub-clauses in her position and the contradictions in mine.
I’d like to say we have found a good way of resolving our disputes, but they usually escalate until someone says something they regret and then we end up apologising.
When I come back from the shop without a flapjack because they didn’t have any, but with a carefully chosen selection of confectionery that I think she might like, I get the blame for the absence of flapjacks, and the stinging criticism that she doesn’t like those sweets and shouldn’t I know that. And then she eats all the sweets anyway, because I suppose those will just have to do, Jason.
We’ll argue on bike rides. If Laura feels bad on the bike and I am there, that’s usually my fault for some reason. If Laura feels bad in general, that’s probably my fault as well. And it’s all fine. These are normal arguments between a couple who, outside of those ten Olympic golds, are a normal boy and a normal girl. It doesn’t mean our relationship doesn’t work or that we shouldn’t be together. We have stood strong through far worse, and we will stand strong into the future. We don’t pretend to be perfect. We don’t pretend to be extraordinary.