Lucy laughs, thank goodness, and I hug her closer.
‘It’s not you,’ I repeat. ‘And it’s probably not those dopey lads either.’
‘Well, what is it, then?’ she sighs.
‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s the times, maybe?’
She tips her head again, waiting for me to say something helpful and I’m not sure I’ve got anything to impart, but I still hear myself talking. ‘It’s just very,veryhard to meet people once you’re out of college, isn’t it? And dating’s hard work, even with the algorithms. And it doesn’t help that nobody’s got any money and everyone’s working all hours and we’re pulled in a million different directions at once, and we’re all sotired, and frankly, we’re all a bit antisocial. And can you blame us, really? After everything we’ve all been through these last few years?’
‘So how are you supposed to meet people?’ Lucy pleads. ‘And not just people who’ll do for a while, I mean really special, nice people?’
‘You wait until it happens?’ I say. ‘Someone will just walk into your life. You’ve plenty time.’
She lowers her eyes in a way that speaks volumes. She can see I’m an old fraud. I can talk the talk but what about my love life?
‘I mean, I don’t exactly have all the answers, do I?’ I throw in. ‘I’m single again at sixty-five, and maybe that’s it for me now, but you’re young. It’ll happen when you’re least expecting it.’
She’s quiet for a long time before she says, ‘Last night, when Leo and Sully were getting to know each other, I could see it happening.’
‘They were falling for each other?’
‘Yeah. It was like they’d known each other all their lives and they were talking and laughing and just beaming at each other.’
‘Hmm, that’s lovely,’ I say, cosying up to her again.
‘It is, but Sully’s younger than me and I can already say for sure he’s going to be with that head teacher forever.’
‘Forever?’ This feels like quite a jump to me, but I let it go.
‘Yes, definitely. And Fern and Shell are something like eighteen and twenty years old, for God’s sake, and I can already imagine those two rattling around up at Brambledown Farm together when they’re little old ladies.’
‘Fern already is a little old lady,’ I joke, but Lucy’s spiralling now.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ she says. ‘Maybe it’s a generational thing. Maybe I’ve missed my chance. I’ll be renting a flat in Birmingham and clinging to crappy zero-hours contracts and messing around with dating apps and never actually liking anyone forever, until I give up!’
‘No, don’t think like that,’ I tell her.
‘You just said you were giving up.’
‘I didn’t say I was giving up, only that I’m not expecting anything to happen now. If it does, it does. Anyway, it’s different for me. I’ve been married and, as far as I can see, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘I’m just so tired, Auntie Margi. It’s all so exhausting.’ She pulls the duvet around her all the more. ‘Something’s got to change,’ she whimpers.
‘OK,’ I say softly, deciding to nip this in the bud. ‘I’m giving you eight hours to wallow in your bed, OK? Then we’ll get up, cook some food and watch some Christmas telly, and we can put the finishing touches to Olsen’s bike shop, if you can face baking. We still have each other, and it’s Christmas, and just because I’m a grump doesn’t mean I’ll let you disappear under your duvet all December.’
‘OK,’ she mutters through the thirty-tog, half-asleep already, and I stay with her, keeping her wrapped in my arms until morning, and for the first time in a long time I sleep all the way through the night without waking.
Chapter Eleven
Sunday 10 December: Rusty
After a pleasant evening in the pub keeping Charlie company, the prospect of my second dating app date (this time in Birmingham) has been a little less daunting. I even considered wearing my leather trousers but the fact Patrick suggested I wear them for some bloke I’ve never even met before put me off somehow.
When Rusty spotted me walking towards the Hippodrome under the Christmas lights, he immediately clamped the rose between his teeth in a silly grin, which he could absolutely pull off, being model handsome – as in M&S tailoring or Saga-cruise-brochure-cover attractive.
I burst into a loud laugh which seemed to delight rather than scare him, and that set the tone for the rest of the evening so far. Fun, just like he’d promised.
His eyes are blue, his voice deep and confident, but there’s nothing cocky about him, though by rights, he could afford to be cocky – he must have his pick of women on the apps. He’d already booked the China Rose Garden, telling me it wasn’t at all touristy, it is in fact where loads of Chinese families eat – ‘the best dim sum in Brum’ he’d joked, but it turns out he was absolutely accurate.
