Getting ready for a date is nothing like it used to be. Not that I ever really did much ‘dating’ per se, at least dating that bore any resemblance to the storylines inSex and the City. There was no endless merry-go-round of people trying each other out for size. In all honesty, there never seemed to be that many people available, at least none that were single and vaguely fanciable.But the main thing I’d recall in advance of the handful of dates I went on in the period between Danny and Brendan was that the only preparation I had to worry about wasmy own.I didn’t have to think about kids, parents, a hamster called Alan and an ex-husband who is predictably unavailable.
‘Can’t Leo babysit? He’s old enough now,’ he says, when I call him to ask. ‘Surely it’s time you gave him some responsibility.’
The truth is, I did consider asking Leo, even if I haven’t left him in charge of so much as a houseplant, let alone his little brother. This has been a long-standing bone of contention between Leo and me for several months now. He thinks that at his age he is more than capable of holding the fort at home. And while in theory I like the idea of giving him some responsibility and sometimes have to remind myself that he’ll be sixteen in a month or so, I’m still not 100% convinced. As it happens, he’s not available either.
‘He’s going over to his friend Josh’s house for a PlayStation and pizza night. It’s his sixteenth birthday. Josh’s mum is dropping Leo home afterwards, but it won’t be till late.’
‘Well, we can’t I’m afraid,’ Brendan continues, unapologetically. ‘We’ve got people over for dinner this weekend.’
‘That’s okay!’ I reply, brightly. ‘If you’re staying in, Jacob’s never any trouble. In fact, he’sgreatwhen people come over. Whenever I have guests, they love having a chat with him.’
‘No. No, that wouldn’t work at all,’ he says so firmly that it occurs to me that perhaps he and Melanie are planning the type of dinner party that involves guests placing their car keys in a bowl. ‘When the children are here, I feel strongly that they deserve my full and complete attention.Quality timeis the key.’ I don’t know how he is somehow making me feel bad for having to organise our actual lives instead of just making their every minute as wholesome and fun as a trip to the fairground.
‘I think it’d just be easier if your mum had him,’ he says vaguely, at which point I have a call coming through from a production company and am forced to end it there.
‘I literally don’t know how you managed to stay married to that man for so long,’ Rose tuts later, when we speak on the phone. ‘You must have had the patience of a saint.’
‘Hardly.’
‘The kids are more than welcome to come over here, you know,’ she says, breaking into a cough.
‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m not going to inflict my kids on you when you’re not well.’
‘I love seeing them,’ she says weakly. ‘Though . . . I’m not exactly on top form, I’d have to admit.’
‘It’s out of the question. Brendan is right, unfortunately. I’ll have to grovel to Mum. Again.’
Thankfully, while she and Dad also have plans this weekend – he’s out with his golf club friends, while she’s celebrating her friend Shirley’s 70th birthday with a spa day – she assures me that both will be back in time for Jacob to have a sleepover at their house.
‘You don’t have to keep apologising,’ she tells me when I take him over there on the way to Zach’s place. ‘Ilikehaving him over. We’re going to watchGladiatorsand get a Chinese takeaway. Did Leo not want to come too?’
‘He’s at a friend’s,’ I say, as a text flashes up on my phone.
‘Who on earth keeps texting you? That hasn’t stopped.’
‘The PTA,’ I say ominously, because my WhatsApp has been red hot this morning on the subject of limo hire for the forthcoming Prom.
Only this isn’t Denise Dandy. The contact that flashes up is ‘The Maths Tutor’.
Jacob leans in to look.
‘Don’t be so nosy,’ I say, snatching the phone away.
‘Is it Zach?’ he asks.
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Because you’re smiling,’ he says impishly, making my cheeks redden.
‘Oh, is he the maths tutor?’ Mum asks, narrowing her eyes. ‘He wasveryhandsome, I must say. From what I could see—’
‘Must dash!’ I say, grabbing my car keys.
‘Are you going anywhere nice? You look lovely with your hair done like that.’
‘To the theatre with Nora,’ I say, having prepared this alibi in advance.
‘Oh. What are you going to see?’
