Falling for you

‘That title: Don’t Be A Doormat. I mean, look at the way Dexter treats me. I’ve got so used to it I just put up with it, but you don’t let him get away with anything. And you’re absolutely right, which is why I’m going to change.’ Grabbing the book back from Kate, Nuala found the relevant chapter headings and jabbed at them eagerly with her index finger. ‘See? Lay Down The Law! You’re A Person Too!

Startle Him To His Senses! It’s all here in black and white — I can’t believe I’ve been such a wimp.

From now on, I’m going to give as good as I get and really stand up to Dexter.’ Proudly, she straightened her spine and concluded, ‘I’m going to be just like you!’

Kate looked impressed. At that moment Dexter shouted up the stairs, ‘Hasn’t the silly bat found it yet? What is she, blind?’

Hurriedly Nuala handed over the folder bulging with VAT receipts.

‘Look, I’m only up to Chapter Seven. Anyway, I can’t do it yet. Not in front of other people.’

Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘When then?’

When indeed?

‘Later,’ said Nuala, feeling determined and panicky. ‘I promise.’

Don’t Be A Doormat was hidden inside a Marks and Spencer carrier and stuffed out of sight at the back of the wardrobe, but - Nuala could still hear it whispering to her as she and Dexter lounged on the sofa together watching TV. She’d finished the rest of the book earlier this afternoon and every word of it had made absolute, earth-shattering sense. It was like picking up the Bible and suddenly becoming a born-again Christian, without having to wear unflattering Alice bands and flat sandals.

And it wasn’t as if she had anything to lose, Nuala reminded herself; they would be redefining their relationship, that was all. Nothing but good could come of it. How did that song go? Oh yes —

‘Thinnnnngs Can Only Get Betterrrrr ...’

Crikey. Put like that, what on earth was she waiting for? ‘Do you mind?’ complained Dexter, turning up the TV. ‘Hmm?’

‘That bloody awful noise. You’re singing under your breath. Stop it.’

Thinnnngs can only get betterrrr .. .

‘I like singing,’ said Nuala.

‘Well, that’s fine, I’m glad. I just don’t like having to listen to it,’ Dexter snorted. ‘You sound like a cat being neutered.’

Don’t Let Him Diss You, Nuala recalled being instructed by one of the chapter headings in the book.

You Deserve Respect. And I do, Nuala thought indignantly, because I’m A Human Being Too, and if I want to sing, I jolly well can .. .

Exasperated, Dexter said, ‘You’re doing it again.’

‘So?’

‘It’s horrible.’

‘You always have to criticise me, don’t you?’ Bravely, Nuala turned to face him. ‘Every single thing about me is wrong, according to you.’

Dexter shrugged and yawned. ‘I wouldn’t say every single thing.’

‘Yes you would! OK, how about those trousers?’ Pointing accusingly at the TV screen, where Kylie Minogue was currently twirling and pouting along to her latest single, Nuala demanded, ‘What would you say if I bought a pair like that?’

Kylie’s trousers were primrose yellow, shimmery and skin tight. Her perfect little bottom was now wiggling fetchingly this way and that in time with the music.

‘Are you serious?’ said Dexter in amazement. ‘With your thighs? You’d look bloody awful.’

‘You see? That’s exactly what I mean.’ Nuala’s voice rose an octave. ‘You have no respect for me. You criticise me all the time and I’ve had enough. I’m not going to put up with it any more.’

‘OK,’ said Dexter.

‘And you can stop watching that!’ Realising that his attention had been drawn back to Kylie’s pert, gyrating bottom, Nuala snatched the remote control away from him and switched off the TV. ‘This is important! We’re having a discussion here and the least you can do is listen!’

Actually, the authors of the book advised that all discussions be carried out in a calm and civilised manner, but this was easier said than done.

‘ We aren’t having a discussion,’ Dexter pointed out. ‘You’re just having a rant. All I’m trying to do is watch the TV in peace.’

‘You treat me like dirt,’ Nuala exploded. ‘Like a piece of old rubbish! And I’m not putting up with it any more.’

‘You’ve said that already.’

Empowerment, thought Nuala. Self-respect. Don’t Be A Doormat.

‘ I’m serious,’ she insisted. ‘I mean it. You have to stop belittling me, criticising me, making me feel small.’