James

This year I got fed up with doing everything on my own, and I found James in the yellow pages. I give him twenty quid, and once a week he comes over and cleans my pool. He is a bargain. It was one of the jobs I hated most.

He is 44 – five years younger than me, but what with one thing and another, we probably went to college together for at least a year. I don’t remember him, but I was finishing off a French degree and he was studying politics and philosophy so that’s not surprising.

The first time we met, he told me he’d never seen a lesbian in Suffolk, and then he went to North London Poly and they were bloody everywhere. I think he must have had a very steep learning curve in his first year. He says they put him in a grim bedsit just off the Holloway Road and he was too scared to leave his room for the first week – but eventually he got used to it and he had a wonderful time.

When he left, he was going to become a famous rock star – he plays lead guitar – and he nearly made it, but then he didn’t, so he came back to Suffolk, and bought a big house when they cost about twenty pence – bigger than mine. In the summer he cleans and fixes pools, and in the winter he plays his guitar and adds rooms to his house.

He had a tribute band until last year – they played heavy rock mostly, but they split up after the lead singer got a 22 year old girlfriend and she became sick of them all coming over to rehearse because she felt left out and couldn’t think of anything to say to them. They didn’t like her either. She caused friction. Never mind though, he’s happy – he is married and has a little Jack Russell and two children, and his pool business.

He never stops talking but mostly he is ok. When he arrives I make him coffee and we chat for half an hour, and then I make my excuses and go inside, and he gets around to cleaning my pool.

This week, he has even more than usual to tell me. First he is looking a bit rough, then he says “what do you think of this though?” and he takes his cap off. I can see he’s had a number one haircut. He looks even rougher. He obviously wants me to look shocked so I do. Then he tells me he did it to piss his wife off – it was the first thing he did after she threw him out.

She told him not to go out drinking last Saturday night, and he did anyway, because he was sick of it all, and he didn’t have much – he wasn’t drunk or anything – but the following morning she woke him up with a cup of tea and said he had two hours to pack his things.

So he went to the lead singer’s flat. The 22 year old has left now. The singer was glad because he is lonely, and he shaved James’ head as a symbol of freedom, and because James’ wife had said never to do it. That’s where he lives now – he is buying another house of his own, but until it’s ready he is staying at the lead singer’s house. They are enjoying themselves a lot.

Every afternoon, the singer phones James on his mobile and tells him what he’s cooking that evening. He makes complicated meals and James goes through the list of what they’ve eaten so far that week with me. Shepherd’s pie - restaurant quality though, and Newmarket sausages in a Jack Daniels sauce, and lamb chops and something with broccoli and vine leaves. He does the cleaning. Next week they’re going to swap and James will cook – he is really looking forward to it. He’s got some recipe books ready.

After James has done the washing up and gone round with the hoover, they practice. They’ve decided to reform – you can make big money round here – tribute bands are very popular. They are having artistic differences though. The singer wants to pull another girlfriend, so he only wants to do love songs, and James says, “I can’t do that – I’m a heavy rock guitarist”. He wants to play Deep Purple, like they used to. He thinks they’ll manage to get over this hump though – sort something out.

And another thing – James says he isn’t interested in 22-year-old girls because he would have nothing in common with them. He is not going to go clubbing with the singer. I tell him I think that’s a good idea and he says quite a few women my age round here do go – and they pull all the time – they’re very popular. I tell him I’m not into all that. I have to try really hard not to laugh, but I’m fighting a losing battle, so I invent an important phone call I have just remembered about. I wish him luck with his new life and flee back inside.

From my window, I can see him talking on his phone as he adds chemicals to the water. He is smiling and looks animated, and I think it must be the singer calling to tell him what he’s cooking tonight.