Stella #2
‘What happened?’ Lou asked. ‘You’ve been insanely vague about it; I need some actual detail.’
I sigh. And then I tell them the whole story, the fact that I couldn’t cope with having sex (this is the kind of thing my mother finds extremely normal to discuss with us – I’m aware that sounds insane) through to the wake-up call from Gavin.
At which point my mother starts laughing.
Properly, genuinely laughing. ‘Why is this funny?’
‘Sorry,’ she says, calming down. ‘I just love that Gavin had to see it. Serves him right.’
‘Yeah, well, it also completely ruined things with Dominic and humiliated me, and meant that Rose saw some guy leaving our house.’
‘Rose isn’t even one yet, darling. She barely knows what her hands are. Your father and I were still regularly having sex with you in the same room at that age when we went away for holidays. You girls always came with us and there was no point getting an extra room just for you, you were babies.’
‘Mum!’ Lou and I say, both viscerally disgusted.
‘I always forget how prudish the British are about sex.’ Mum sighs.
‘You’re British,’ Lou retorts, through gritted teeth.
‘Anyway,’ I say, trying to break up what could become a fight. ‘It was a disaster and I’ve sworn off all of it forever. The universe was clearly trying to tell me that I’m moving too fast.’
Mum looks concerned. ‘Don’t say that, darling.’
Lou starts clearing our plates. I had given Mum a performatively tiny portion of pasta in the hope that she’d have to ask for more, but she hasn’t even finished it.
‘Sorry,’ she says, when she notices me looking at her plate. ‘I just don’t have such an appetite as you two. Honestly, I envy you.’
Lou is behind Mum’s back and looks up to the ceiling mouthing ‘give me strength’. I just about manage to laugh. Then she comes back to the table with another bottle of wine and I gratefully accept another glass.
‘I have to say,’ Lou ventures. ‘I don’t actually think that date went that badly.’
‘I’m sorry? You heard the part where I cried on him? And the bit when he met Gavin?’
‘No, sorry, just to clarify,’ Lou says. ‘I mean, obviously you were insane and a total disaster. But I mean him. He actually seems really solid.’
‘I agree,’ Mum adds. ‘He didn’t have a tantrum when you couldn’t deliver on the sex you’d promised him—’
‘That’s, like, the bare minimum of consent,’ I argue.
‘Yeah, I know, but this is London dating on the apps in the 2020s,’ Lou counters. ‘The bare minimum deserves a fucking parade.’
‘That is insanely depressing.’ I sigh.
‘Come on,’ says Lou. ‘Get back on the horse. Let me see your profile.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Darling, you really should let Lou have a look; she’s always had lovely boyfriends.’
Lou looks aghast. ‘Lovely? James who cheated on me? And Alister who used my address to get a credit card and then ghosted me when debt collectors came over?’
Mum rolls her eyes. ‘Yes, yes, but at least they were fun. I’m complimenting you – you’ve got good taste.’
Lou yanks my phone out of my hand, presses ‘redownload’ on the app store and within seconds I’m cursing our brilliantly fast Wi-Fi. My brilliantly fast Wi-Fi. There is no ‘our’ any more.
‘Oh my god,’ Lou says, like she’s just seen something genuinely horrific. ‘Oh, Jesus Christ, Stella.’
‘What?’ I ask, panicking that I’ve accidentally uploaded a nude or something.
Lou reads from the screen: ‘I’m Stella, I’m thirty-two, I’m newly single and this is my first time on the apps.
I’m not ready for anything serious so just looking to make some friends or have some fun.
Like all women of my demographic, my interests include Taylor Swift, white wine and really cold Diet Coke.
I don’t have hobbies because I spend all my time and money going to weddings and hen dos. ’
‘What?’ I ask. ‘I thought that was funny.’
A message drops down at the top of the screen, from Dom. Louella looks at it archly. ‘There’s a message from Dom.’
‘Yeah, I can read,’ I say, snatching it from her.
My mother is also shaking her head. ‘Darling, you put an advert on the internet saying that you wanted to have no-strings-attached sex. You can’t let them know that you want that, you have to be mysterious about it.’
‘It literally does not say that,’ I snap.
‘I mean, it kind of does,’ Lou counters.
‘I’m being honest about what I’m looking for, I don’t want to date some guy who’s looking for a wife when I’m obviously not ready for that.’
Mum and Lou exchange looks, which makes me angrier.
‘I get it,’ Lou says, in the kind of voice you’d use if you were trying to calm down a frightened animal, which makes me even crosser.
‘But there’s an etiquette to these things.
It’s a negotiation, right? If you want casual sex with a nice guy, you need to look like you’re trying to find someone to date. ’
I don’t want to cry, and there’s really no reason to cry, but I can feel tears rising anyway. ‘Look, I didn’t want to do this, I’m clearly not good at it, and I deleted the app, so this is completely irrelevant,’ I say, my voice getting higher. I’m talking too fast.
‘I’m just saying,’ Lou ventures, and the fact that she’s trying to be so gentle makes me more enraged.
‘You’re new to this. You’re na?ve. It’s not your fault you’re na?ve, it’s just a lack of experience – that’s why I took you to the dating seminar.
I know you think this stuff is stupid but it’s not – it gets you up to speed on the whole dating scene really quickly. ’
‘Exactly,’ my mother adds. ‘So next time you try to go to bed with someone you don’t start weeping and wailing.’
‘I wasn’t wailing!’ I wail.
‘Okay,’ Lou says. ‘You’ve had enough of a lecture. Let’s just drop it.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, taking a breath. ‘Sorry. Can we talk about something other than me, for a bit? Does anyone else have any news?’
‘I got promoted,’ Lou says. ‘With a pretty decent pay rise.’
‘That’s amazing!’ I say. ‘That’s way more interesting than my bad date.’
‘I’ve started taking a progesterone suppository to improve my sexual function,’ Mum adds.
‘That’s great too!’ I hear myself say.
After Mum leaves, Lou insists on helping me to wash up so that I’m not left to clear up tomorrow morning, then she calls an Uber.
‘Hey,’ she says. ‘I really don’t think you should give up on dating. Just make your profile a bit more vague.’
‘I have given up,’ I say, brushing my toes against the floorboards, following the pattern of the wood.
‘What happened to the mantourage thing?’ Lou asks.
‘That stupid book? From that insane talk? Oh, come on,’ I sneer.
Lou points at a pile of papers on the kitchen table, under which is a cream book with a bright pink title on the spine: The Mantourage.
‘So stupid that you kept the copy you got in the gift bag and read it?’
I stare at the floor and curse Lexie Leung. ‘I wanted to see if it was as stupid as it sounded.’
‘Sure,’ says Lou, giving me a kiss on the cheek and hanging up her tea towel. ‘Well, look, I know shit about fuck when it comes to your life, but I think you should do it. What have you got to lose?’