The Paper Anniversary
A year ago, Rob and Louise were married. Now Rob has a plan which will change their lives again
The downpour begins as we drive into Cumbria.trying to hide my disappointment, I turn the windscreen wipers to full and focus on the road. “Maybe we should have gone abroad,” Louise says, shouting a little to make herself heard over the torrent of rain that is bouncing off the car.
We’re heading to the Lake District to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. I can’t believe we’ve been married for a year already – although Louise and I lead hectic lives, so time does tend to fly.
My wife is a bubbly, energetic person, but I’m much more laid back.
My idea of a great holiday is a couple of weeks in the sun, lounging around a pool with a good book and a glass of cold beer.
Louise prefers activity weekends: cycling, hiking, canoeing.we even went rock climbing once, although that’s not an experience I want to repeat in a hurry.
The truth is, Louise and I are complete opposites. One of our friends once described us as chalk and cheese, but Louise had corrected him.
“Actually, we’re more like cheese and pickle. Rob and I may be very different, but we complement each other perfectly.”
Right now I definitely feel like the pickle in our partnership because I’m in a real predicament with my career.
I’m a web developer for a large IT company and when I married Louise and moved 50 miles from my place of work, I refused to give up the job I loved.
After 12 months of traffic nightmares on my long-distance commute, I’m desperate to hand in my notice.
I haven’t told Louise yet, but my dream is to ditch the daily journeys and work from home as a freelancer.
The trouble is, I’m not sure whether I’m brave enough to run my own business. I don’t think Louise will be too keen on the idea, either.
She may be a daredevil when it comes to activity holidays, but she likes to play safe in every other aspect of her life.
It’s probably because she manages risk for a living. She works for an insurance company as an actuary, calculating the likelihood of things going wrong.
My sensible, risk-averse wife will no doubt suggest that I solve my work problems by finding another office job. Something safe and secure and close to home.
My head is telling me the same thing, but my heart is urging me to take a chance and do something different.
The rain eases as we leave the motorway and head towards Kendal to pick up the keys to our rental cottage, but on the final leg of the journey the downpour resumes.
The wet road stretches ahead, black and shiny like a strip of liquorice.
“Thank goodness the weather wasn’t like this when we got married,” I say.
The sun shone brightly for our September wedding. twelve months on, the sky is dark and brooding as we pull up at our holiday cottage.
It takes less than two minutes to unpack the car and get our luggage and boxes of groceries inside. It’s amazing how fast you can move in a rainstorm.
The interior of the cottage is quaint but rather chilly, so Louise puts the kettle on and I light the wood burner.
Over the next few days we plan to do some walking and shopping and have a few meals out. In between, I want to talk to Louise about my dream of starting a business.
“What shall we do this evening?” I ask. “Do you want to eat at the village pub, or shall we opt for a cosy night in?”
“It has been a long journey,” Louise replies. “i don’t really fancy going back out into the rain again tonight.”
“OK,” I say. “an evening by the fire it is, then.”
It looks as though the opportunity to discuss my work situation might come sooner than expected.
I cook spaghetti Bolognese while Louise prepares a salad.we eat at the little table in the window and I begin to relax. A fire is crackling in the wood burner and Louise has uncorked one of the bottles of red wine we brought with us.
“I know we said no gifts, and I realise it’s not our anniversary until Sunday,” I announce,“but I’ve got something for you.”
I hand over a long, narrow box. Lying inside is a watch with a red leather strap and a large silver face. Our names and the date of our wedding are engraved on the reverse.
“A first-anniversary gift is traditionally paper, but I checked online and apparently clocks and watches are an acceptable alternative these days.”
“It’s lovely, Rob. But I haven’t got you anything. I thought we weren’t giving each other presents.”
“I have you,” I say. “i don’t need anything else.”
I strap the watch to Louise’s wrist and she lifts her hand to admire it.
“When I’m stuck in a traffic jam and you’re wondering where the heck I am, you can look at your new watch and know that I’m thinking of you.” Louise smiles.
“If I knew where to get it from, I’d buy us some spare time that we could spend together. I hardly see you these days.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking about that, too, and I have an idea that I’d like to run past you.”
Louise sips her wine.
“Sounds intriguing.”
The wind chooses that moment to hurtle another spattering of rain at the
window-pane.
“It’s the commute,” I say. “i didn’t mind it at first, but it’s been getting to me lately. Every week there’s a new set of roadworks or a diversion to deal with. I spend hours stuck in traffic.” “Are you thinking about getting another job? Something closer to home?”
“That’s one option.” I take a deep breath. “i’ve also been toying with the idea of setting up my own business, working from home. there are some lucrative contracts coming up for people with the right skills.”
My heart is thumping. Just talking about the idea makes me nervous. Louise nods.
“You certainly have the skills and plenty of experience. But you do know that 70% of new businesses fail within the first three years?”
She’s said exactly what I expected her to say, but still I feel disappointed. I admire Louise’s level-headedness and common sense – it’s one of the things I love about her.
But, for once, I wish she’d throw caution to the wind. I already know that starting a business is risky. I’d like her to fan the embers of my idea, not pour cold water on them.
You see, I may be good at my job, but I’ve never been a confident person. I need someone to strengthen my resolve and encourage me to take that first step into the unknown.
“If it’s what you really want then I’ll back you,” Louise says.“but I can’t make the decision for you, Rob.you have to be sure. If you’re not, then you should take more time to think about it.”
Time.that word again. I’m as short on time as I am on self-confidence.
We wake the next morning to the sound of raindrops tapping on the bedroom window. It’s not as bad as yesterday’s deluge, but heavy enough to rule out a walk on the fells. Instead we head into Kendal for a mooch around the town. I buy a new set of waterproofs from one of the outdoorclothing stores. Louise explores the gift shops, buying mint cake and a lavender-scented candle. Eventually we gravitate towards a café for coffee and cake.
“I’ve been thinking about your work dilemma,” Louise says.
I prod a slice of carrot cake with a fork. “Me, too. I really don’t want to keep driving 50 miles to work every day, and then 50 miles back again. It’s exhausting and too time-consuming.”
“I agree.”
I smile, encouraged.
“I could look for another job closer to home, but I would really, really like to work for myself.”
“OK, tell me why.” My wife rips open a sachet of sugar, stirs it into her cappuccino and leans back.“what’s so appealing about running your own business?”
I think for a moment before replying. Louise is right to ask this question. I need to understand and articulate my own motivation.“aside from the obvious benefits of working from home, I’d be my own boss. I could work whatever hours suited me.” “Not necessarily,” Louise counters. “You’d still have clients and deadlines to meet.you might even have to work longer hours to begin with, until your business was established.”
“Fair point,” I say.“but I’d be willing to do that. I’ll be more productive anyway, because I won’t be wasting time commuting every day. I’ll be able to put those hours to better use.”
“How would you find customers?”
“I already have lots of contacts. Plus, I’d have a great website.”
Louise grins.
“I should hope so! As a web developer your own website will need to be brilliant.”
“It will be. I guarantee it.”
“Is there anything you feel less sure about?”
“Lots of things: setting up the business; registering the company; insurance.all the legal stuff.”
“Well, you could get help with that. What about start-up costs?”
“They’d be quite low. I already have all the IT equipment I’d need. Ideally I’d like to work with community groups and charities, but I realise I’d have to take whatever work came my way to begin with.”
I’m into my stride now, finally voicing the ideas that have been buzzing around in my head for so long.
Louise smiles.
“I can see you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“Yes, I have, but it’s a decision we both need to be happy about.”
I expect her to nod and say “OK”, but she doesn’t.
“You’ve done a great job convincing me that it’s the right thing to do,” she says instead.“i believe in you, Rob, but the question is, do you believe in yourself? It is a big decision, and one that only you can make.”
What she’s really saying is that I need to trust my own judgement, and she’s right. I have a habit of seeking other people’s opinions instead of making decisions for myself.
That’s something that will have to change if I’m going to run a business.
The next day is our anniversary. I awake to the welcome sight of the sun filtering through the bedroom curtains.
What is less welcome is the empty pillow next to me. I reach out and my hand touches a folded piece of paper: a note from Louise. I sit up and read it.
Happy anniversary!
I’ve gone to the village to buy fresh croissants so that I can bring you breakfast in bed. I also thought I’d give you a first anniversary gift of paper by way of this letter.
When you plucked up the courage to propose, you ran the risk that I would turn you down. I didn’t. I said “yes”, and it’s the wisest decision I’ve ever made.
My job has taught me that life is full of uncertainties, but the one thing I am sure of is that I will love you for ever.
You are strong and clever and talented, Rob, and I have faith in you. On our anniversary I want you to know that I will support you and help in any way I can if you decide to go ahead with your business venture.
With love always.
Louise xx
I fold the letter and smile. Louise’s faith in me is heart-warming and it’s reassuring to know she will be there for me, no matter what. But I know now that this is a choice I have to make for myself.
I have no idea whether my business idea will succeed, I only know that I am going to give it a try.
Smiling, I lie back and wait for Louise to return with the croissants.