Million Love Songs(28)

‘I tried marriage,’ I remind her. ‘Didn’t quite work out.’ It still pains me to discuss it with my parents. I know they had high hopes for me and Simon. If I was taken in by him, then they were too. They adored him. My dad used to walk down to the local pub to play darts with him – the ultimate accolade. I think it hurt them nearly as much as it hurt me when they found out he’d been cheating on me. So I never tell them how I’m really feeling. You don’t, do you? You get to a time of life when it’s your turn to protect your parents, not vice versa.

‘You give up too easily. Do you think my life has been all ha-ha-hee-hee with your father?’

‘I don’t think Dad ever shagged the woman at the local One Stop Shop though, did he?’

‘Your father’s no angel,’ she says, darkly.

For the record, my father is an angel. My mother’s idea of a heinous crime is for him to put the empty cereal packet back in the cupboard rather than in the bin. Which, in fairness, he does sometimes do. Dad has barely put a foot wrong for the forty-odd years they’ve been together. He is a paragon of virtue. If someone had a notion to show my dad their bejewelled vajayjay, he’d run a flipping mile.

‘Simon went off with another women. Even if he’d begged to come back – which he didn’t – I could never have forgiven him for that.’

‘It’s not like my days.’ My mother shakes her head, clearly perplexed by the ways of the modern world. ‘I just want you to be happy. ‘

‘I am.’ But you can see why I don’t say anything about Mason or Joe or anyone of the male variety who crosses my path. I daren’t even tell her about cardboard cut-out Gary Barlow or she’d be looking at hats.

Still I’m glad that I have a supportive family, who are here for me. Like I said, they went through as much agony as I did when I divorced. My pain was their pain. It was truly awful to watch them suffer too. I couldn’t put them through that again. I feel for Mason who has a tyrant as a father and a judgemental family and for Joe whose parents live too far away from his young family to be able to help. I’m lucky. I know that.

I just wish my mother would chill out when it comes to me finding myself another future intended. I’d like to confide in her about Mason or chat to her about Joe and his kids or my attempts at scuba-diving, but I daren’t. It’s way too early. Even I realise that one heady kiss with Mason does not a boyfriend make.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Later that evening, I’m at the swimming pool again. I’m not keen and I think that’s probably written all over my face.

‘Hey,’ Joe says. ‘Good to see you. I did wonder if you’d come back for another go.’

‘I like to see everything through to the bitter end,’ I lie through my teeth. Honestly, I thought about turning round and going home when I got to the car park.

‘You’re enjoying it that much?’ Joe laughs.

‘I’m not sure that I’m a natural in the water.’

‘You’re doing fine,’ he says. Then he looks over his shoulder at the group of guys by the poolside. ‘I’ve paired you with Bob for tonight. He’s very experienced.’

I confess that I get a heart-sink moment. Of course, I thought that I’d be with Joe again. Why wouldn’t I be? Looks like he’s decided to play it cooler than me.

Bob comes over. I’m not being fatist, ageist or sexist or anything, but he’s a fat, old bloke. Actually, I probably am being fatist, ageist and sexist He’s bald too. Maybe that’s hairist. He has a nice smile and a friendly face though and I hang onto that thought.

‘Ready, love,’ he says and we go through the same procedure of getting into the pool. I still experience the same amount of terror. Though I care less about putting my bum in front of Bob’s face. We sink to the bottom and sit beneath the surface. When Bob squeezes my hand to check if I’m OK, I don’t feel quite the same thrill as when Joe did it. And that’s a good thing. That’s a very good thing.

I take more notice of the silt on the bottom of the pool and wonder when it was last cleaned. Properly cleaned. A spent Elastoplast floats by. Gross. I wonder how many children have done a wee in here this week? How many teenagers have hopped in with verrucas? I might scrub myself with bleach when I get home.

Bob encourages me to try a little swimming and I follow him to the deep end, listening to my own breathing in my ears, the hiss of the bubbles which I think should be soothing, but is vaguely horrifying. When I get out of the pool with all the elegance of a seal on land, Bob is full of praise and, I have to say, he’s been a great instructor, very patient with his somewhat reluctant pupil. He just doesn’t look like he’s going to make Mr March of the Diving Hotties annual calendar any time soon.

Joe is chatting to some of the other guys at the end of the pool. I think he catches my eye, but turns away. Well, two can play at that game. I am the Queen of the Cold Shoulder. I dump my gear and head to the showers where I give myself a triple wash with Zingy Lime shower gel.

While I let the water cascade over me, I think about Joe. He’s great and there’s no doubt that my heart is quite impressed by him, but if I’m going to set my cap at anyone then it should obviously be Mason Soames. Joe is still too embroiled in his old life for him to be able to take on a girlfriend too. He said as much himself. And that’s fine. It was totally unnecessary of him to spell it out. And rather clumsy of him, I thought. Still, he’s playing it cool with me and that’s fine. I might have had a few stomach-flipping moments with Joe, but that kiss with Mason was sensational and, if it was up to him, it wouldn’t have ended there. No reluctance on Mason’s part. Oh no.