Page 46 of Love from Pretty Beach
N othing had changed and Darby zoomed from angry to upset and just about every other emotion in between about what had gone down with Archie.
The cheek of the man in thinking that she would just wait around for him to have a think.
You couldn’t make it up. He could stick his thinking where the sun didn’t shine.
She’d known it had been good, too good to be true.
She should have listened to the voice of doubt in the first place. It seems it had been correct.
Trying to take her mind off it, she’d plumped to record some video footage for her channel and had decided that going through her notebooks and diaries would be enjoyed by her viewers.
Purely for no other reason than that she liked seeing other people show notebooks, planners, diaries and jotters.
Mostly because she found it fascinating observing the way others attempted to keep their lives on the straight and narrow.
Like sunglasses and a big bag, Darby loved planners, diaries and notebooks and she had many of them to her name.
For as long as she could remember, right back to when she was a teenager, she’d kept diaries under her bed, in her bag and stacked up on her dressing table.
She’d even commissioned a small business in a place called Lovely Bay that produced bespoke notebooks, to make her a very special one.
On the sofa in the sitting room, positioned next to the window, she had a pile of her books in front of her to show to the camera.
Hitting record, she started to chat and present her collection.
The first one was her main planner, which she used mostly to detail her work shifts and day-to-day bits and bobs to remember what was going on in her life.
'I update the pages in this every year, mostly these days for work, but when I had the children in three different schools, that was a challenge and one of these was my bible. To be quite honest, you can get all manner of paraphernalia to go in it. You know, like those pages that detail fancy quotes and monitor how many litres of water you’ve had.
Charts and stuff, stickers, all sorts. Well, these days, I resist those because obviously I never use them. '
The planner was actually a thing of beauty, with a gorgeous soft leather cover, a little magnetic tab closure, thick cream pages and the promise of structured time management.
Darby had a bit of a ritual of buying the new pages every December.
Every time she did it, she would be convinced that the right organisational tools would transform her existence.
A tough ask and one that never totally followed through.
'I love my planner because you can just sort of throw it around without worrying about damaging it.
Though to be honest, most of what's in here are work shifts and the occasional note about something I need to remember, which I then forget anyway because I've written it down and my brain assumes that means it's dealt with. I love this planner. I’ve had it such a long time that it feels a bit like an old friend.
Sort of a comfort blanket of my life, if you will. '
Her day-to-day planner was indeed mostly work shifts and appointments she couldn't afford to forget.
Dentist visits and car MOTs and the sort of administrative obligations that made up the skeleton of adult life.
Not exactly the stuff of fascinating television.
Boring, really, but she assumed her viewers might like seeing the nitty-gritty.
'Right, what else have we got? This is my book notebook. I like to read and jot down notes on books I am reading sometimes. If I get recommended a book or I see someone vlog about something good that they have read, it goes in here.'
Darby held the book up to the camera and after going through her lists in it, she opened the pages and then picked up another book, which was a simple ring bound with a black cover she’d got from Waitrose when doing her shopping.
'This is quite exciting. This is for my channel content, which I bought specifically for keeping track of video ideas and content planning, though mainly it just makes me feel guilty about not being more organised about my accidental internet career. '
The channel notebook had been purchased during a burst of enthusiasm when she'd convinced herself that she needed to be more organised about what she uploaded and when.
She'd imagined herself filling it with content calendars and strategic planning, mapping out themes and scheduling uploads like someone who actually knew what they were doing. It hadn’t worked, but she still liked pretending to plan in it.
She stroked the cover. 'It makes me feel optimistic, you know?
I think that is the beauty of a notebook, sometimes. '
'And finally, though I do have many more, but I don’t want to bore you, this is an antique leather Mulberry cover folio thingy as you can see.
I’ve had this since before the girls were born.
I loved it then and I love it as much now.
I just slot in new inserts if and when I need them and I always try to buy the best ones because the paper is just something else. ’
Darby held up the Mulberry cover to the camera and pulled the zip around.
'I use this for more important thoughts than the other diary,' she explained, though she didn't elaborate on what constituted more important thoughts versus regular thoughts.
'Well, I say thoughts, but really, they're just action points that I never actually act on.
But they're written down in beautiful handwriting in an expensive notebook, so they feel more significant than they probably are. '
The expensive cover was gorgeous. The leather had softened with age and handling and had developed a lovely soft patina.
Darby felt as if it were a close confidante.
'It’s beautiful, and sometimes I just like to have it near me.
Yes, is that weird? I don’t really care.
It smells like the girls, and me and my life. '
Darby chuckled at the fact that she sometimes spent her evenings with a planner and inhaling its scent suggested a level of desperation that was probably not suitable for public consumption. She couldn’t care less.
After concluding the video, she stacked her books up and flicked through to the last few months.
Archie this, Archie that. Dinners, walks, coffees, a cinema date, when they’d gone out on his friend's boat. Her diary pages told her they were a thing. Gulp. Darby felt tears threatening, but made them not happen. She wouldn’t cry. Not yet.