The Carnival is Over

‘Hey! How’s your day?’ 

‘It’s been tough,’ Josie replied.  

Laurence could hear something in her voice.  

‘It’s been a nightmare at work. They’re cutting budgets and next will be people. I’ve told my boss it’s short-term-ism, but she said it’s survival.’ 

‘Are you alright in this?’ 

‘So far, but it’s only Tuesday. I guess the President has a list of people and their salary. Not sure where I fit in.’ 

‘Would you like a bit of advice?’ 

‘No, I bloody wouldn’t! It’s not your job to be my coach and mentor. I’m a grown woman and can look after myself.’ 

‘That was barbed,’ said Laurence. He knew Josie could ignite with little provocation. 

‘Yes it was!’ Her breathing came under control. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.’ She was the only person who could explode the apologise in the same sentence. 

‘What’s wrong, honey?’ 

‘I’ve been asked to look at our staffing levels in Alfreton and Rotherham. They want two heads gone.’ 

Laurence held the silence. She’d effectively told him to shut up. 

‘I don’t know who to get rid of.’ 

‘As long as it’s not you, I couldn’t care less. Think of who your terrorists are. Maybe it’s a good time to get them gone, Josie.’ 

‘I hate it when you’re right.’ 

‘It’s the benefit of being around the block a couple of times. The big boys will like your logic.’ 

‘Which brings me to the real reason for calling.’ 

Laurence was quiet. There was no point in filling the silence. 

‘You know how this goes. I’ve got two young children. I leave work on time to spend an hour on the phone with you. I say I’m working at night when the reality is I’m texting you. I’m not giving my husband the attention he needs and it’s badly affecting our relationship.’ 

‘I’ve told you I want you. And I mean it.’ 

‘How can we do that?’ She paused. ‘You’re in Scotland. I’m in the East Midlands.’ 

‘I can live anywhere.’ 

‘Could you really put up with two kids under ten?’ 

‘I assume there’d be a time between leaving him and moving in with me. It wouldn’t be, like, tomorrow.’ 

‘We’ve gone over this so many times, Lol. You know I’m not prone to instant decisions. As much as I don’t want to, I’ve got to choose him and the kids over you.’ 

Laurence couldn’t find the words. He was cracking inside. If he spoke, she’d hear the emotion. It had been the best eighteen months of his love life. He adored Josie. She was wonderful, considerate, gorgeous, a delight at company functions and so good to be with. 

She said it was only ever going to be fun. She had banned L-bombing from their vocabulary. 

‘I’ve got to think about me. I can’t have you occupying this amount of bandwidth. Work needs my full attention and focus now. If I pumped those hours into work, he won’t know the difference, the kids will be happier and work will fly.’ 

‘If you leave him and lived with me, you’ll be happier. I didn’t hear that in your monologue.’ 

‘I have to do what needs to be done. If the price is my happiness, then maybe that’s what I need to pay.’ 

‘What about me?’ 

‘Please don’t call me, Laurence. I’ll get back to you when the dust has settled.’ 

Laurence checked his phone. The daily WhatsApp messages had stopped. The record was 31 in a single sittings. Now. Zero. He watched for the message alert daily. Nothing. Same for his e-mail. 

August became September, became October and still Josie hadn’t contacted him. She could be stubborn. Determined, deeply single-minded. Spontaneous? No chance. After a row with her husband, she and Laurence were on an industry shin-dig and Josie dragged him to bed for two nights. Lol had no reason to leave, but she needed to get home. He replayed that first meeting and nights frequently in his mind. 

She wanted an escape. He’d fallen for her. She’d done the same, but hid it. 

In early November, Laurence sent a message. 

This was something I never wanted to send and hoped I never would. I was listening to 97.4 Firth Gold today. I know it’s a serious oldie, but the words killed me. The Seekers. Last line is: 

Now the carnival is over, I will love you till I die. 

The rest of the lyrics are no better. 

One week later, he got a reply. 

Listened to the song over and over. Haven’t stopped crying. Where did you get it from? 

My grandparents. They played this stuff to me. Grandma said dad had a secret crush on Judy Durham. 

I can’t get past it. I will always love you, Laurence. Always. 

She said it. Not him. 

The radio silence resumed. It took a few weeks for Laurence to get out of the habit of checking his phone for Josie’s messages. By February, he was back on an even keel. 

One day, Josie wrote  

Does it still hurt? 

Laurence’s survival instincts kicked in. He buried the message and chose not to reply. He let 32 days pass before he did, by when it was April. 

Only when I breathe. 

One day the pain would go and maybe then for his, the carnival would then be over. 

© Peter Hardman 2026