Pam’s German students had flown home at the start of the summer holidays. In some ways she’d been sad to see them leave. Although they weren’t the most scintillating company, she’d enjoyed the routine of having to cook for them every evening, if nothing else. Rather sweetly, and extremely shyly, as they’d stood by the front door with their bags all packed, waiting to be collected, they had presented her with a box of chocolates, and the poor boy who’d been designated to give it to her had even managed to utter a few words of thanks. Then the minibus had arrived to pick them up and, after the bustle of departure, Pam closed the front door behind them and emptiness descended like a low cloud. Now she’d be on her own until the next batch of students arrived at the beginning of the autumn term. She wondered again about getting a dog, but ultimately decided against it since she didn’t think it would be fair to leave the poor hound alone every afternoon and all day on Saturdays while she was at the shop. Actually, flip that thought, she told herself briskly, the reason you can’t have a dog is because you have the shop to go to. So it’s a positive thing, not a negative one.
No matter how much of an optimistic spin Pam tried to put on things, it didn’t stop her hating the loneliness, and the futile, pointless boredom of her evenings, so she invited Zee round for a mid-week supper, on her own, without Theo.
‘It won’t be anything special,’ she’d warned.
Now she and Zee were sitting at either end of the sofa in the living room, with their feet on the coffee table, tucking into bowls of chilli.
‘Why does this feel like such an illicit pleasure?’ asked Pam.
After a moment’s thought, Zee replied, ‘Because it’s all about us. We’re not putting other people first, for a change.’
‘Pathetic, isn’t it?’ said Pam dryly.
‘Pitiful!’ grinned Zee.
In their defence, both women had spent over four decades catering for and prioritising the myriad needs of their spouses and their children. It was hard habit to break. Even now, their conversation had drifted to the trials and tribulations of their loved ones, specifically their various offspring which, for Pam, included Charley.
‘It’s just painful watching her,’ she said, ‘like seeing some dreadful tragedy unfold in slow motion and being powerless to stop it. As if she’s being wilfully self-destructive.’
Zee pulled a sympathetic face. ‘’Twas ever thus,’ she commiserated. ‘It’s one of the toughest things about being a parent, isn’t it? Your kids making foolish decisions and knowing you can’t stop them because you’re the last person on earth they’ll listen to. I don’t know which is worse: watching them being with someone you instinctively know is bad for them, and that it’ll all end in tears, or seeing them let someone wonderful, who’d be really good for them, slip through their fingers, and knowing how much they’ll regret it later.’
‘She’s not even my daughter,’ Pam pointed out. ‘There’s only so much I feel I can say.’
The two women fell pensively silent for a while, until Zee said, ‘Well, I guess you have to credit her with knowing her own mind. And looking on the bright side, at least she won’t be moving to Italy.’
Pam pulled a face. ‘Yes. I didn’t relish that prospect, I will admit. Even if it was selfish.’
Zee dropped her fork noisily back in her bowl and looked over at her friend. ‘Oh, for crying out loud, will you give yourself a break, woman! Of course it wasn’t bloody selfish. I’d be gutted if one of my kids moved to another country. I wouldn’t tell them that, obviously, and I wouldn’t try to stop them, but I’d still be gutted.’
‘But Charley’s not one of mine,’ Pam reminded her friend. ‘I don’t have a right to feel that.’
Zee’s tone and face softened. ‘Yes, you do,’ she said, ‘because you’re scared that if you lose Charley you lose her connection with Josh.’
Pam took a gulp of wine to ward off the threatening tightening in her throat. ‘I know Charley has to build a new life without Josh, and I want her to. I genuinely want her to be happy, and I know that Ricky is right for her, even if she doesn’t,’ she added despairingly. ‘But if she moves to Italy I won’t be able to be part of her life any more. And it’ll feel like a door is closing on part of Josh’s past life. She won’t be here for Christmas, or his birthday, and the two of us won’t talk about him anymore, or share her memories of him, and we’ll never say, “Do you remember when Josh did this or that or… whatever?”’ She swallowed hard and reached for her wine again.
Wordlessly, Zee put her empty bowl onto the table and shuffled up the sofa next to her friend. ‘Life is all about phases, Pam, you know that. Children grow up, people grow apart and we have to accept things change. So yes, if Charley marries Ricky, or anyone, your role in her life will change, whether or not she moves away, but if your fear is that she’ll lose touch with you, then I think you underestimate how much you mean to that young woman.’
It was a comforting thought. Maybe she was looking at things too bleakly, and bracing herself for the worst as a coping mechanism, on the grounds that forewarned is forearmed.
‘Do you want pud?’ asked Pam abruptly, changing the mood, as she scooped up the chilli bowls.
‘Does the sun rise in the east?’ enquired Zee witheringly.
Wordlessly, the two of them headed for the fridge.
‘Key lime pie!’ raved Zee, as Pam fished out a flan dish. ‘Make mine a large one!’
‘It was left over from supper with Dez,’ Pam told her, cutting two generous portions.
‘Lucky Dez!’ commented Zee, taking her slice eagerly. ‘How are things going with you two?’ she added casually.
‘Fine,’ replied Pam airily.
‘Only “fine”?’
‘Actually rather well,’ confessed Pam, trying not to sound like she was gloating.
She and Dez had fallen into the pattern of having supper at her place once or twice a week, and she loved the way their relationship had so easily, seamlessly, drifted from having ‘dates’ to something more regular and relaxed.
‘When are we going to meet him?’
‘Soon.’
‘How soon?’ persisted Zee eagerly. ‘You’ve been with him for weeks!’
‘Yes, and I still want to be with him weeks from now! Meeting you lot will be hugely daunting for him. I don’t want to frighten him off!’
‘It’s only us! Bring him to supper at mine. I promise we won’t eat him.’
Pam wavered. She had asked Dez if he’d like to meet her friends but he’d seemed reluctant.
‘It’s you I want to be with,’ he’d replied. Then, taking her hand in his, he’d said sincerely, ‘I don’t want to share you, not yet.’ So, flattered, she’d let herself be won over.
Zee, however, was not prepared to let it go so easily.
‘If being trapped at a dinner table with us lot all evening is too intimidating – and to be fair to the man I can see why it might be,’ she conceded cheerfully, ‘let’s make it drinks. Then you can leave whenever he’s had enough.’
Put like that, Pam didn’t feel she could refuse. ‘Okay. Lovely.’ She brushed aside the niggling fear rising inside her that Dez wouldn’t like the suggestion. She’d just have to cross that bridge when she came to it. She couldn’t carry on keeping the two halves of her life apart like this. Sooner or later he was going to have to meet her friends, and surely the sooner he did, the easier it would be?
As it turned out, she’d been right to be anxious.
‘I just don’t particularly like going out for drinks. I thought we’d be having dinner, just the two of us, like usual,’ he said, a tad petulantly.
‘We can have an early supper,’ Pam promised, ‘and go on to Zee’s later.’ He still looked disgruntled, so she said, ‘We don’t even have to stay very long if you don’t want to. You’ll like them,’ she promised.
‘But will they like me?’ he replied, suddenly sounding vulnerable, and Pam’s heart went out to him.
She caught his gaze and held it. ‘I like you,’ she said. ‘And I can’t imagine for a moment that my friends won’t too.’
There was a beat and then Dez asked, ‘Will he be there?’
‘Who?’
‘Your ex-husband.’
‘Over my dead body!’ Pam burst out laughing, but the hurt in Dez’s eyes made her stifle the laughter in her throat. She realised she’d been insensitive, stupid even. It hadn’t crossed her mind that he’d be worried her friends would compare him to Geoff, nor that he and Geoff might actually meet each other. No wonder he’d been reluctant to go to Zee’s.
The following Saturday, Pam duly prepared supper for six thirty, giving them plenty of time to enjoy their meal before heading off to Zee’s around half eight. Setting the table in the dining room, Pam was in high spirits, and looking forward to introducing Dez to everyone. Be honest, you just want to show him off! Well, why not? He was a really nice bloke, not bad-looking, and younger than her. She knew it would all get back to Geoff and that thought alone was enough to put her on cloud nine. She was humming to herself when she went to answer the door.
He seemed nervous, downing the lagers he’d brought way more swiftly than he usually did and she momentarily felt remorseful. Oh well, a little Dutch courage never did any harm, she told herself, and offered him a glass of wine as well.
He shook his head. ‘I’m driving,’ he reminded her.
‘I’ll drive,’ she told him. ‘You can leave your car here.’
Slowly, he turned to look at her with what appeared to Pam to be a distinctly optimistic glint in his eye. To her horror, she realised he thought she was inviting him to stay the night, an invitation that, obviously, had enormous implications.
‘I’ll drive you home afterwards,’ she added hurriedly. ‘You can pick your car up in the morning.’
The optimism in his eyes didn’t fade. It sort of hardened. ‘I’m not sure how I’d get here on a Sunday,’ he pointed out. ‘Wouldn’t it just be easier if I stayed over?’ The suggestion seemed so reasonable, but it flustered Pam completely.
‘No!’ she blurted.
‘I meant on the sofa,’ he clarified hurriedly. ‘Or in the spare room – or rather, in one of them, since your young lodgers have gone.’
‘Still, no. I’d rather not,’ finished Pam awkwardly. The thought of him staying the night, even in the spare room, filled her with apprehension. It was too soon, way too soon for that degree of familiarity, or anything else, surely.
There was a decidedly pregnant pause, eventually broken by Dez saying flatly, ‘Oh. Okay, then.’ And then he left it a beat before he added, ‘I supposed I’ll just have to get a cab back or something tomorrow morning.’
Yes, I suppose you will, thought Pam, determined not to yield.
By the time they’d left Pam’s, Dez had already drunk two cans of lager and three large glasses of wine, which, Pam swiftly calculated with dismay, was probably almost a bottle. It’ll be fine, she told herself, it wasn’t like any of her friends were teetotal.
How wrong could she be? She endured about an hour and a half at Zee’s before she simply she couldn’t take any more. Dez turned out to be a larger than life, loquacious drunk, draping his arms round everyone, as if they were long-lost bosom buddies, as eager to be liked as a puppy. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d managed to remember anyone’s name. By ten o’clock she was desperate to leave, but it took her another forty minutes to persuade him to go with her and she was almost in tears by the time Theo and David had helped the almost paralytic Dez into her car.
‘Darling, don’t worry. It doesn’t matter,’ Zee told her, clearly highly amused. ‘He’s just pissed.’
‘Don’t tell Geoff!’ Pam implored her.
‘Of course not.’
Ferrying Dez back to his flat, Pam hoped to God he wasn’t going to pass out. There was no way she’d be able to manhandle him out of the car if he did.
‘Where are we going?’ he suddenly piped up, looking out of the window.
‘Your place,’ Pam informed him.
‘Not yours?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’ He sounded deeply disappointed.
They drove through the lamplit streets of Redland, substantial Edwardian houses on either side of the road. Pam could see, even in the muted glow of the streetlights, that many of them were sadly way past their glory days. They had her sympathy. She’d still not been to his place so she told him he’d have to direct her. He leant forward and peered through the front windscreen, as if he were trying to get his bearings.
‘Next left!’ he suddenly ordered, and after a few more turns he said, ‘Just here will be fine,’ so she pulled over.
He struggled with his seat belt, so she leant over and unclipped it for him and then got out to open the passenger door for him, suspecting even that basic mechanism would be beyond him too.
Staggering out of the car, he seemed to pull himself together. ‘Would you like to come in?’ he asked her. ‘For a nightcap, or something…’ he finished suggestively.
‘Not tonight,’ said Pam firmly.
‘Well, thank you for a lovely evening,’ he slurred, then added rather endearingly, ‘I think I’ve drunk too much.’
‘Just a bit,’ replied Pam, and then he lurched off to what she could only hope was his front door. It seemed to be, since he managed to open it before almost falling inside.
Waking the following morning, a heavy weight immediately thumped into Pam’s stomach as she remembered the excruciating shame of the night before. She’d have to call Zee and apologise. Sighing heavily, she slung her legs out of bed and opened the curtains, and immediately the weight in her stomach doubled. Dez’s car was still on her drive and so sometime today he’d pitch up and she was going to have to… deal with him. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d drunk too much and shown her up, it was more that the whole knotty problem of him ‘staying the night’ had arisen, completely unexpectedly, and had thrown her into a total panic.
Going into the kitchen to make herself a much-needed coffee, she saw from the wall clock that it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. She could give herself time to recover and marshal her thoughts before she called anyone.
As it turned out, Zee called her first.
‘I’m so sorry, I can’t apologise enough,’ started Pam.
‘There’s no need,’ Zee assured her. ‘These things happen.’
‘He was just incredibly nervous about meeting you all,’ explained Pam. ‘He’s not normally like that, I assure you.’
‘I don’t imagine he is. I was only calling to make sure you got home okay.’
Fleetingly, Pam considered confiding in Zee over the whole thorny issue of Dez ‘staying the night’, but she felt too compromised by his behaviour, so she left it, then promptly regretted her decision as soon as she ended the call. The subject preyed on her mind ominously, making her feel mildly nauseous. After breakfast, still worrying over what the hell she should say to Dez, she took herself for a long walk, hoping the diversion and the physical activity would help. It didn’t. Arriving home, she was still unsure what do to. However, as she turned into her drive she noticed his car had gone and hot, righteous indignation rose up inside her. What a coward! And how rude, taking the car without even calling to apologise. Belatedly, she noticed the bouquet of flowers leaning against the front door, and her fury dissolved. He’d left a profusely apologetic card, and she guessed he’d been too embarrassed to face her in person.
At the kitchen sink, scissors in hand, snipping the stalks before putting the carnations in a vase, it dawned on her the whole debacle was actually her fault. Dez had told her, several times, that he hadn’t wanted to meet her friends yet, and she had known how anxious he was at the prospect of being compared to Geoff. She blamed herself for pressuring him into doing something he so obviously hadn’t want to do.