Are you vegetarian? texted Pam.
No, Dez texted in reply.
‘Oh, thank God!’ said Pam out loud to the kitchen.
Over the last few years a plethora of dietary problems had plagued her friendship group, scuppering her best-loved dinner menus. Zee loathed fish and was allergic to shellfish, and Mona had become vegetarian years back so Pam had built up a wide repertoire of veggie risottos and pasta dishes. Then Toni’s husband had developed IBS and they’d both gone gluten-free and so nowadays it was a real struggle finding a meal everyone could eat. So she was looking forward to some obstacle-free cooking. For the last couple of weekends, she and Dez had gone out together twice more for drinks but, not being a great drinker and resentful of continuing to shell out pub prices for wine when she was on a belt-tightening economy drive, Pam had planned a dinner at her place for their next date.
Zee had been a little alarmed. ‘You hardly know him,’ she’d warned. ‘Is it safe to go back to your place, just the two of you?’
Pam was convinced her friend was worrying needlessly but to reassure her, she’d reminded Zee she still had her three lodgers. ‘If anything happens, I’ll scream!’
‘Fat lot of good if they have their ear-phones in!’ Zee had pointed out.
A small pile of cookery books littered the work surface in Pam’s kitchen, their pages bristling with scraps of paper and Post-it notes flagging her tried and tested favourites. Flicking through them, she reminded herself that whatever she selected, she’d have to do five portions, and four of them generous ones, so she’d have to limit herself to something inexpensive. Think posh on a budget, she told herself. Something cheap as chips – but definitely not chips! Eventually she settled on chicken alfredo, boiled new potatoes and a couple of salads followed by Dutch apple tart. The timelessly classy pudding with its snazzy pattern of glazed apple slices was a veritable triumph of style over cost, she thought. Briefly she considered a starter, but rejected one on the grounds it might appear she was out to impress, and trying too hard.
Dez arrived promptly, bringing a bottle of white wine and a couple of tins of lager. Taking them, Pam thanked him and led the way into the kitchen.
‘Lovely house,’ he said, looking around appreciatively. ‘How many bedrooms is it?’
‘Er, four,’ replied Pam, mildly surprised by the question.
‘You must feel like you’re rattling around in it a bit, now that you’re on your own.’
‘I would,’ she agreed, ‘except I’ve got three foreign students staying with me at the moment.’
‘Oh. I assumed it was just the two of us.’ Dez appeared mildly put out. ‘I’ve only brought two beers.’
‘That’s not a problem, they don’t drink. They’re not old enough!’
‘Phew!’ said Dez jokily then he added, ‘Mind if I have one now?’
‘Of course not!’ Pam felt suddenly rattled because she hadn’t offered him one immediately. ‘I’ll get you a glass.’
‘Don’t bother. Save on the washing up.’
Taking the tin, he opened it and took a swig. Pam was mildly affronted. She didn’t mind people swigging lager out of cans and bottles – the boys had done it all the time – but she’d laid the dining table specially, with her best runner and table mats and a vase of freshly cut roses from the garden, and the image of a can of lager gracing the table jarred on her. She told herself not to be so pernickety and judgemental.
Once supper was ready, she plated up and, calling the boys down, told them they could either eat in the kitchen or their rooms. She wasn’t surprised when all three of them silently voted with their feet and, clutching their plates, shot out of the door.
Smiling to herself, she carried her and Dez’s meals through to the dining room. Dez put the lager can down on the table and she tried not to wince.
‘This looks good,’ he said, rubbing his hands gleefully and sitting himself down.
Pam headed back to the kitchen to get the wine. ‘Don’t wait for me!’ she sang gaily. When she got back she saw that he hadn’t, which she took as a compliment to the chef.
‘This is absolutely delicious!’ he exclaimed, even before she’d sat down. She made a dismissive gesture but he went on, ‘No, seriously, Pam. You’re a marvellous cook!’
She positively beamed at him. She couldn’t remember the last time Geoff had complimented her on her cooking, or on anything, really. Over the years, he’d just taken her culinary skills for granted. Truth be told, he’d taken her for granted too. And it wasn’t the only compliment Dez gave her that evening, in fact he positively lavished them upon her. He praised the Dutch apple tart (‘It looks professional!’) and the coffee (‘Mmm, smells so good, and so much better than instant!’). He congratulated her on her taste in décor and furnishings (‘This is a really classy living room. I love these deep sofas’). He admired her looks (‘It’s not every woman who can carry off a haircut that short’) and he was flatteringly attentive to her, topping up her wine glass when it was empty, offering to carry the plates into the kitchen and help load the dishwasher.
At the end of the evening, when she showed him out, he hovered at the front door uncertainly.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ he said eventually.
‘Thank you for coming.’
‘I would offer to invite you back to my place,’ he paused uncomfortably, ‘but I’ve only got a studio flat the size of a shoebox. And in any event, I’m the world’s worst cook, so it’s probably just as well. There’s every danger I’d give you food poisoning!’
Pam laughed and shrugged dismissively. ‘Never mind, we can do this again here.’
‘Yes. Please. I’d like to.’
Then, tentatively, Dez leant over and kissed her chastely on the cheek. ‘I’m so glad we met,’ he said softly.
Pam felt her cheeks flush hot. ‘Me too.’
Closing the door behind him, she couldn’t stop a broad grin from spreading across her face, and she realised her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest.
‘Oh pull yourself together. You’re behaving like a bloody teenager,’ she told herself brusquely, and went off to finish tidying the kitchen.
Brushing her teeth, getting ready for bed, Pam’s mind wandered back over the evening. Dez had been so… charming, flattering, and above all, kind. It was his kindness she appreciated the most, she realised, her toothbrush pausing in mid-scrub. Geoff’s adulterous betrayal had been an act of such hurtful and uncaring selfishness, it had entirely crushed her. These past few months she’d been battling with depression, dragged down by the fear of being alone for the rest of her life, frightened by the prospect of a lonely old age. At sixty-three, she couldn’t imagine anyone would ever want her, or care for her again, but now, having spent such a wonderful evening with Dez, she’d been proved wrong. Remembering his platonic, gentlemanly kiss made her glow. She caught sight of her face in the bathroom mirror. ‘A little less smirking and a bit more scrubbing!’ she ordered.
The following morning, she and Zee went for a long walk around the grounds of Ashton Court Estate. It was early July, and although the schools hadn’t broken up for the summer yet, the park was already busy, so they veered towards the less well-beaten tracks. The sky was cloudless and the sun dazzling so Pam slipped on her sunglasses.
‘Heavy night?’ deadpanned Zee.
‘No! Far from it. Most abstemious.’
‘So how was dinner?’
‘Actually, very nice.’
‘Nice?’ repeated Zee pointedly.
‘Lovely,’ corrected Pam. ‘He brought wine, we dined, we talked, he stayed until around ten, and then he left. It was fun. And he’s very different from Geoff,’ she finished.
‘Oh? In what way?’
‘Well, he drinks lager rather than wine, appreciates my cooking, and he loads the dishwasher, for a start!’
‘Someone’s trained him well!’
Pam shook her head. ‘He’s never been married.’
Zee raised an eyebrow but said jokily, ‘Oh. I wonder what that says about him.’
‘Probably nothing, except the fact he hasn’t found anyone he wanted to settle down with.’ Although Zee had sounded teasing, Pam slightly bridled at her implied criticism. ‘He’s just a really decent bloke,’ she continued. ‘Kind, attentive, caring. He showered me with compliments all evening, and he’s genuinely interested in what I say. So, like I said, very different from Geoff!’
‘Sounds like he’s from a completely different planet compared to Theo.’
Comparing the two men it dawned on Pam how much she and her husband had grown apart over their forty-year marriage. Talking rather than communicating, oblivious to each other’s moods and needs, yoked together by a marriage licence and routine, they’d stayed together like a pair of old worn-out shoes. It hadn’t been like that to start with and she wondered when it had changed. Long before Josh had died, that was for sure. Probably when the boys were born, she reflected, and when Geoff, like all fathers, had slipped from first place to second behind their children. Perhaps the relegation had caused him to look for someone else, someone who would put him back on a pedestal in prime position. It was an explanation, if not an excuse, but what had been unforgiveable, and had broken her, was his ultimate betrayal in carrying on his affair after Josh had died. It left her feeling they hadn’t gone through the harrowing agony of losing their son together, as a couple. And it baffled her, deeply hurt her, that instead of wanting to protect his heartbroken family, he’d risked breaking up his marriage, by carrying on with another woman. He had dismissed their harrowing pain in favour of his own pleasure.
Halting in her tracks, she caught her friend’s eye. ‘Dez makes me feel wanted, Zee, valued and attractive, and I like him, which is odd because he’s not really my “type”. But I can see myself with him. I can, honestly.’
Zee tucked her arm through Pam’s. ‘Slow down, woman!’ she said. ‘You’ve only just met him!’
Pam laughed, mostly at herself, and the two of them walked on arm in arm.
‘What does he do for a living?’
‘He’s setting up a driving school.’
‘In Bristol?’
‘I assume so.’
‘So what did he do before that?’
‘I’m not really sure. He’s been working abroad a lot. Europe, the States…’
‘Interesting… Doing what?’
Pam pulled a face. ‘I’m not entirely sure. He did say. Logistics, I think.’
‘What even is logistics?’
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ said Pam. ‘But I wasn’t going to admit that to him!’
‘Very wise!’ agreed Zee with a grin. ‘And where does he live?’
‘He has a studio flat in Redland, I think he said. But I might have made that up. Honestly, Zee, I can’t remember. I must be having a senior moment.’
‘Don’t tell him that!’
‘God, no! But I do remember him saying his place is tiny so we’re better off at mine.’
‘Yes, well if he’s only got a flat it’d have to be a penthouse to compete with your place,’ pointed out Zee. ‘Actually, that must be difficult for him,’ she continued thoughtfully. ‘Nowadays, and at our time of life, we’re all judged by the trappings of success. Our houses, the cars we drive, the holidays we take. When we were younger none of that seemed to matter.’
‘That’s because we didn’t have anything! When I left home to marry Geoff all our furniture came from second-hand shops. Except the bed. His parents bought us that.’
‘Luxury!’ claimed Zee. ‘Theo and I slept on a camp bed until we saved up enough to buy a double mattress.’
The two women fell silent for a while, nostalgically reminiscing about their early married lives. It had taken Pam and Geoff years – no, decades – to create the home she now had. Realistically, she knew her days there were numbered, and that once she and Geoff divorced they’d have to sell up and split the proceeds. The only way she could cope with that deeply distressing prospect was to determinedly enjoy the here and now, and live in the moment. Which brought her back to thinking about Dez.
Turning to her friend she confessed shyly, ‘He kissed me.’
Zee pretended to look scandalised. ‘You trollop!’
‘It was very chaste. Just on the cheek.’
‘How very gentlemanly. Also, rather romantic,’ added Zee with a mischievous wink.
Pam felt herself blush.