I recently had a chat aka a hysterical outburst with Hot Danish. It was the weekend. I was standing on the balcony. HD ushered me inside and quickly closed the doors. ‘But you have to understand that work comes first,’ he said.
‘No,’ I replied/screamed. ‘I have to be on an equal pegging with your work. Think of me as one of your clients because at the moment I feel invisible.’ HD had been arriving home from work late and his mind was still at work; he didn’t hear me offer him a drink several times; he continued to work and reached for the Blackberry (aka the secret lover/tic) as soon as he’d bolted the last mouthful of dinner while I still ate. My dinner preparations were spoiled. The Blackberry was taken on the trip to the bathroom. I sulked while he thought I was unsupportive of the hard work he was doing for our future. He continued working into the early hours.

We resolved to have one ‘fun’ night each week (even if it has to be changed due to work); no Blackberry checking while we eat; and if HD is too tired/busy to speak to me when he arrives home then he will say that he needs 30 minutes (with his Blackberry).

The previous day I’d met up with new expat friends for lunch and shopping. ‘So nice to have the sort of Saturday I would have at home – fab! Next stop, tea rooms,’ the other west London girl texted afterwards. Natasha emailed me on Monday, ‘You called me by mistake and my phone recorded a voicemail of you and another girl chatting and laughing. When I heard it on the return train journey from London I felt slight envy ;)’. Girls are natural fun get-together organisers, it seems.

HD was in a hurry to get through the newly re-opened Stedelijk Museum which he’d suggested once we’d resolved our row. ‘This is just a side room,’ he said, taking my arm. ‘Look at this rubbish painting – it doesn’t even have a signature.’ The signature was there – small and dark. ‘Oh, it’s a Picasso.’

‘Painting is a blind man’s profession. He paints not what he sees, but what he feels, what he tells himself about what he has seen,’ Picasso once said. And sometimes a man’s profession can be so consuming that it makes him a little short-sighted in other areas.