Trouble in cactusland.

Two more friends appear to be on the brink of divorce because Daphne* has met someone when Fred* was away in Afghanistan. Or that's the scenario my overactive imagination conjured up when I checked on Fred's* Facebook profile and found the following update: "Fred* is back, and the world that he left back in Dec is totally upside down. If anyone is around Cambridge this weekend I could do with some company at some point. And I'll be around for the next 3-weeks or so too! :(."The unhappy upside-down smiley face was a clue and a quick glance at Daphne's* profile was equally telling because there was no recent update. Normally, she'd be very active in publicly communicating her affection for her husband on Facebook with the likes of "I heart my hubby he's the bestest in the world!!!!"  

Fred's* next comment was semi-cryptic: "If it was a voicemail message, you might hear something like this: "The relationship you have called is not available. Please leave your message after the beep." He also confirmed that he'll be coming to dinner at our house alone. It could be that Daphne* has been unhappy with their marriage for some time, but if that's the case, she hadn't let on, and only a month ago there were messages on Facebook stating how much she missed her hubby. I suspect it may be her meeting someone, rather than being randomly unhappy; if it were the latter, they'd be trying to work things out and he wouldn't be in Cambridge alone. Only two days ago, when stuck in the limbo that is Cyprus, Fred* penned the following hopeful message: "Home is where I want to be - in my own bed, my own food, my own beer and most importantly, Daphne*. :)" It looks like he's been completely blindsided.

I can't help but feel a little bit responsible; after all, it's partly my fault that he and Daphne* got married. They met one fateful evening several years ago when we all gathered for a group dinner at the culinary bastion that is Chillis. Gabriel's* soon to be ex-wife Delilah* had her best friend come visit from Northern Ireland, so she brought her along to dinner. Daphne* and Fred* sat at opposite ends of the table and their eyes met. They did not speak to each other that evening, but Fred* grilled me afterwards, asking me who the gorgeous redhead was. It turned out that Daphne* did the same to Delilah*. The rest was the stuff of fairytales: through mine and Delilah's* meddling, Fred* and Daphne* exchanged phone numbers, and, following a flurry of text messages, Fred* made the trip to Northern Ireland and treated the girl of his dreams to a romantic weekend in a converted castle - an unprecedented gesture on the part of a young man who previously spent all his money on the latest games consoles. They were married a couple of years later, and I provided the entertainment at their wedding by dressing in a slinky black number and high heels and subsequently finding it impossible to walk.

They were all set to live happily ever after. Gabriel* and I nicknamed them 'cactus man' and 'cactus woman' after Hugo and Alice in "The Vicar of Dibley" because neither of them are known for being particularly riveting conversationalists, and like the aforementioned simple couple, it seemed that they were made to live happily together in cactusland...until this bombshell was dropped.

Though I gently mock Fred*, I'm actually very fond of him. He was my first boyfriend for a whole five weeks in sixth form before we reached the conclusion that our romance was not meant to be the romance of the century, or even of that school year. Since then we'd stayed friends and I always felt rather protective of this socially awkward but ultimately nice and harmless guy - a bit of a loner and a nerd who shares my appreciation for Terry Pratchett novels. I councelled him through the breakup of his relationship with a rather obnoxious redhead who came after me, and encouraged him to go after the lovely Daphne*. We'll find out tomorrow exactly what's transpired.

If it doesn't work out between Fred* and Daphne*, it won't be the first time my relationship advice ended in disaster. A few years ago, my friend Saturnus* was trying to decide between dating a girl who was keener on him than he on her and who had a child, or going after a beautiful yet seemingly unreachable psychologist. I urged him to aim high and go for the unreachable one. They ended up going out and she turned out to be a volatile cow who treated him really badly and was in constant conflict with him, shockingly so, considering that Saturnus* is one of the nicest people I know, and one who doesn't revel in confrontation. When he took her on a romantic break to Paris, she carelessly removed a ring that he gave her previously (though not an engagement ring, thank goodness), tossed it on the table and said: "I don't feel the same about you as I did when you gave me this ring." Ra!

I think I shall henceforth refrain from giving relationship advice. For at least a week.