24. The Right Neighbour’s Son
TWENTY-FOUR
The Right Neighbour’s Son
Thursday, 29 August, 12.30pm
On way to Totnes. I decided to invite Ace down for a BBQ on Saturday. He hasn’t seen Ana and Irene since he moved to London. It’ll be neutral territory and we can talk. I can’t put it off.
P.S. I so enjoyed cutting up the Versace top.
11.30pm
So lovely to see Irene and Ana today. Being with them always reminds me of happy childhood days. We had afternoon tea, then a walk – though at their pace I can hardly claim to have done any exercise – and back home for dinner and telly.
They were acting like rampant teenagers tonight. Irene patted Ana’s ample bottom every time Ana walked past the sofa with more nibbles for us while we watched Mary Queen of Scots . At first, I didn’t know where to look but then I joined in, each of us taking a different buttock and howling with laughter.
‘Stop it, you. I’m not a pork, you know,’ she said. More laughter from me and Irene. Ana pretended to be annoyed while she smothered a giggle.
When the film got a bit sad and Ana started crying, Irene went over to her, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. So sweet.
‘I wish I could find a relationship like yours. I thought having meaningless sex would be enough for me but apparently not. And it’s not like I’ve had lots of that either,’ I said, feeling sad again.
‘But you can find love, my dear. There must be lots of men who’d love to go out with you. You must look for them,’ Irene said.
How many times have I heard that?
‘I’m tired, Irene. I don’t know if I have the energy to carry on looking,’ I said. I should buy three white Persian cats with a matching throw.
‘You have years ahead of you. Look at us. We’re steel in love. And we do sex,’ Ana announced, too loudly.
‘Sophia doesn’t want to know that,’ Irene admonished Ana, then turned to me. ‘Only when my hip isn’t playing up.’
Too. Much. Information.
Friday, 30 August, 6.30pm
We went to the shops to buy stuff for tomorrow’s BBQ. OMG, Ana’s driving! She was in fourth gear straight out of the drive and went through 1,001 roundabouts without gearing down. The car spluttered and jerked while I sat at the back feeling hysterical with equal measures of fear and laughter. As for her parking. She was oblivious to the long line of cars waiting for her to manoeuvre into what was quite a large space. Back and forth, back and forth. #WantToHide
Irene and Ana are still hoping for romance between me and the neighbour’s son. I’m seeing Anthony Junior for a drink tonight, though I don’t think I’m ready for dating yet. In fact, I’ve been thinking I might give up the dating challenge. I’ve done eight months of it and here I am, a runaway and miserable. I was happy in January and now I’m not. What’s the point? #DatingSucks
11.30pm
Tony was lovely. Not in a fanciable way but easy to talk to and a good listener. We ended up having a heart to heart. I told him I was fed up with the dating challenge and didn’t know if I wanted to risk being heartbroken again. He told me about his divorce. It wasn’t dramatic. They’d just grown apart and once the kids left home, there was no joy.
‘One of my neighbours,’ he said, ‘was still working hard in his sixties, ignoring his wife’s pleas to retire, and saying, “Another year and we’ll have enough money to travel and relax”. He finally retired on his sixty-sixth birthday but the following day, he was killed in a car crash on his way to the golf club. That was a wake-up call for me. I decided to live a more honest life and be true to myself. That was when I asked my wife for a divorce and moved here.’ He told me I could meet someone tomorrow and still have years of happiness ahead of me. Wasn’t that worth the effort?
‘I’ve only just met you, but I can tell you’re a determined person. Why give up now?’
He was right, of course. You never know what’s round the corner. Look at Grace getting cancer at such a young age. And Leila is sure to have heartbreak around the corner. If Tony’s been in an unhappy marriage for years and still believes in love, how can I give up after eight months? I must look to the future, not over my shoulder.
Saturday, 31 August, 11.30pm
Ace came over for the BBQ today. It was awkward at first. At one point, while everyone was eating, he said he wanted to talk so we sat on the swing away from the others.
‘Look, about Valencia…’ he said. ‘I know you were in a bad place and a bit drunk, but I want to know … does it mean you … oh this is so difficult … erm … can I ask…’ He was looking down at the grass. He obviously wanted to find out if I had feelings for him, in which case it would be too awkward to continue being friends. I couldn’t bear it. I had to stop him saying anything to make things worse.
‘Look, Ace, I was all over the place and yes, way too drunk. There’s no excuse for the way I behaved. I don’t want to lose your friendship. Can we please forget about it? Pretend it didn’t happen and go back to how we were?’
He hesitated, then smiled a sad smile and said, ‘Forget about what?’
Tears fell down my cheeks and I hoped he meant what he said.
‘Don’t cry. You’ve done enough of that lately. Come here.’
He put his arm round me, and I let my head rest on his shoulder as the seat swung back and forth and we watched the BBQ for a while.
Then I exhaled and said, ‘Anyway, imagine if we got together after all these years. What would people think?’
‘Yes, imagine.’
We walked back to the BBQ, and I sat with Ana while Ace talked to Anthony Junior. I glanced over a few times, and they were deep in conversation. I was glad he was enjoying himself. Probably bonding over football or something.