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<\/a><\/p>\nEllie turned her head and looked at him with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.<\/p>\n
\u201cI knew you\u2019d bring that up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s the obvious question, anyone would ask. What\u2019s with the elephant dung?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked back towards the painting.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a spiritual statement.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s spiritual about the droppings from an elephant\u2019s arse?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s adding something raw to the canvass, straight from the natural world. It\u2019s more basic than paint, reminds us that everything comes from the earth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEven elephant dung?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe elephant eats what it finds in its environment, and leaves the dung when it\u2019s finished. It\u2019s all part of the cycle of life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cycle of life. <\/em>It irritated him when Ellie used words like that, made her sound like she hadn\u2019t grown out of her art history degree. He gave it a moment, using the brief silence for effect.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s arseholes.\u201d<\/p>\n She looked at him. Her eyes had hardened.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a gimmick,\u201d he went on. \u201cA cheap trick to get the painting noticed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo why did he win the Turner Prize?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause they get their jollies over gimmicks.\u201d He injected the line with a sharp shot of disdain, enough to kill any hint of a joke. \u201cIt\u2019s the type of thing that impresses pretentious pillocks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you calling me a pretentious pillock?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI never said that.\u201d<\/p>\n He left a hard note in his voice and turned away before she could protest. He went to look at another painting, feeling her stare in the back of his neck.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ten months on<\/strong><\/p>\n Jack turned on the tap and for the hundredth time was surprised by the rattle of the pipe before the water burst into the open kettle. He had been in the flat for three months, but his mind was still conditioned by the efficient plumbing in his home with Ellie. A short burst of water was enough for the coffee, and he closed the tap with the extra twist that would prevent the dripping. The electric kettle made a noise loud enough to prompt him to turn up the hi-fi, with a hope that the woman next door wasn\u2019t at home. He swore she must have stood with a glass to the wall, just listening for an excuse to give it a thump. The water boiled, he poured it into the cafetiere and savoured the aroma, one of the pleasures that assured him life wasn\u2019t so bad. The phone rang. It was Ellie.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve found a buyer,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u201cOn a Sunday?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey came yesterday morning and made the offer late afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you get the asking price?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI dropped a couple of thousand. We agreed that was acceptable.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s okay. Do they look genuine?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSeems so. He does something in marketing, she\u2019s in HR for a big law firm. They\u2019re engaged, they\u2019re renting at the moment so there\u2019s no chain, and they say they\u2019ve got the OK for a big enough mortgage.\u201d<\/p>\n If that was all true it was good.<\/p>\n \u201cAny idea how long it will take?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve got to talk to the solicitor, but the estate agent says it\u2019s usually a couple of months, maybe ten weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not long.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. I\u2019ll have to start looking for somewhere for myself.\u201d<\/p>\n He heard the regret in her voice, knowing that she loved the flat and would stay if she could afford the mortgage single handed. He felt a little sorry for her, and for himself. The feeling lingered between them for a moment. Maybe they should console each other.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll have things to talk about,\u201d he said. \u201cMaybe we should meet up for a coffee, or lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re probably right.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can do today.\u201d<\/p>\n There was a pause, long enough to inject a touch of tension.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, I\u2019m going out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMeeting Susan?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n Another pause. He realised what it meant.<\/p>\n \u201cA date?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n It created another awkward moment, and he had to remind himself that was OK. He had been on two blind dates himself.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s good. I\u2019ll be in touch.\u201d<\/p>\n The call left him restless. They had gone through their long conversations, shed some tears, and agreed they were no longer right for each other, and she had as much right as he to get on with her life. But it stung. It didn\u2019t help that he had nothing to do that day, so after a couple of hours sulking on the sofa he dragged himself towards the river, crossed Lambeth Bridge and ambled westwards. Then he found himself at the gallery and saw the poster outside: one big exhibition for the elephant dung man. He thought of that afternoon, one of the moments when things became a little worse for them, and his first instinct was to turn away. Then he flipped the idea, thinking that the paintings would remind him of why Ellie had been wrong for him.<\/p>\n Ten minutes later he stared at a lump of elephant dung. It still irritated him, but details of the painting stirred a moment of pleasure, a squint in the woman\u2019s eyes, her softly curved lips, the vibrancy of the primary colours swirling from her face. He walked on, and found himself lingering over some of the paintings, his mind temporarily detached from all that had gone wrong. It was the last room that was most striking, a collection of large canvasses with sleek bright lines upon dark blue and black, portraying figures full of elegance and energy. He stood in front of a picture of a couple dancing amid palm trees and acknowledged to himself that the artist was a class act, someone who could convey the magic in people\u2019s lives. Ellie would have liked this.<\/p>\n Then he was flattened by a crushing sadness, knowing that the pleasure was dulled, and would be for a long time, by not being able to share it with her. And it was his own fault.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Four months on<\/strong><\/p>\n Ellie answered the door with a neutral expression and stepped back before he could offer a kiss. It was what he had expected, another tiny reminder that they were past affection, and he followed her into the flat at a respectful couple of paces, hearing the TV in the background.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere did you find it?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cAt the back of the cupboard. Somehow it got behind the laundry basket.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t remember placing it there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe you placed it on top.\u201d<\/p>\n He thought it more likely that she had placed it there during one of her cleaning binges, but decided there was no point in saying so. She led him into the kitchen where it stood in front of the washing machine, a Powell Peralta skateboard with a skull under a Viking helmet, a treasured possession of his teenage years that he had never been ready to give away. He looked it over and felt pleased.<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon this is worth a bit on eBay now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs that what you\u2019re going to do with it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo way. I\u2019ll keep it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt the back of another cupboard?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe I\u2019ll hang it on the wall.\u201d<\/p>\n He wouldn\u2019t, but he noticed the remark drew a little twitch of her mouth. She offered a coffee, he accepted, they sat in the lounge with the TV on low volume and began to talk about their slap in the face. The buyers had delayed exchanging contracts on the flat for three weeks beyond the original date, then admitted that the guy had lost his job and couldn\u2019t go through with the purchase. They were back to square one on the sale, minus more than a thousand pounds in solicitor\u2019s fees. He asked if the estate agent had put it up for sale again.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d said Ellie. \u201cI told them to put it on hold for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy? I thought you wanted out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do, I did, but \u2026. I got so wound up by the sale falling apart. I lost sleep, cried a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n There was a shift in her expression, almost asking for sympathy.<\/p>\n \u201cI understand,\u201d he said. \u201cI worried about it, and you\u2019re living here so it must have been worse. You need a little time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s good of you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I can\u2019t handle it for too long. And within a few months I\u2019ll need my share of the profit from the sale.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re right. Maybe a month or so.\u201d<\/p>\n He drew a quiet breath, making a quick financial calculation, silently winced then reminded himself he couldn\u2019t take another quick sale for granted.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay. We\u2019ll talk about it again in a month.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks. You\u2019re sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n She showed a grateful smile. He was still thinking of the money, but also feeling this was one of those moments in life to be generous, for himself as much as Ellie. He sipped at the coffee and asked if she was getting out much.<\/p>\n \u201cA little.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDating?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA couple of times. Hasn\u2019t come to anything. What about you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHaven\u2019t been in the mood.\u201d<\/p>\n It left them in an awkward silence, a recognition that neither was happy with the turns their lives had taken, but that they were past the point of sharing their emotions. The only sound came from the TV, a newsreader telling them of the latest woes in the world. There was something about a flood in northern Spain, then a story about the French foreign minister being ambushed by environmental activists.<\/p>\n \u201cThey were protesting against the government\u2019s support for a French company\u2019s bid to gain mining rights in one of Kenya\u2019s national parks, and chose an unusual means of making their point. Elephant dung.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack and Ellie both looked towards the screen to see a man in a suit hit by large brown lumps from slingshots in a small crowd. One caught him in the face, and the camera lingered as he dug into his pocket for a handkerchief and tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe himself clean.<\/p>\n \u201cShit!\u201d said Jack.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d said Ellie. \u201cThat\u2019s what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n They chuckled as security men hustled the minister back into the building, one of them squeezing his own nose.<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose that was a spiritual statement,\u201d said Jack.<\/p>\n Ellie looked at him. He froze. He had just reminded her of their bad moments, and her eyes showed that she remembered every detail. It was a couple of seconds before she replied.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, something raw, straight from the natural world. They\u2019ve just reminded him that everything comes from the earth.\u201d<\/p>\n Her mouth twisted, halfway to a smile. Jack took a chance on a chuckle. Then they both laughed, loud enough for relief to fill the room.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Three weeks on<\/strong><\/p>\n They stood in front of the same painting as before. Jack felt shamed by the memory of his sneering, stared at the elephant dung and hesitated to look at Ellie. He knew that she was running her mind over the same memory, and it lasted for the best part of a minute before her head turned.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m not going to say anything about spirituality or cycles of life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou just did.\u201d<\/p>\n She punched his arm. They both smiled.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is good though,\u201d he said, \u201cwith or without the elephant dung.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m glad you think so.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd I\u2019m sorry about last time. I acted like an unpleasant dickhead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, you did, but saying so is the second part of redeeming yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n They kept their eyes on each other and shuffled their feet uncertainly as if there was something to stop them moving on. She tightened her mouth a little and he knew it was the moment to ask.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve been thinking,\u201d said Jack. \u201cDo you think it might work if I moved back in?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt might.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo we can try again?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe can try again.\u201d<\/p>\n They waited a second, then threw their arms around each other and pressed their lips together, long and hard enough to prompt everyone nearby to move away. When they let go they gently bumped noses and gave each other big time smiles. Then they strolled to the next gallery hand in hand.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"