The Zombies
TIME OF THE SEASON
It wasn’t exactly the sexiest of jobs – which was likely why David refused to endure it with me.
Thankfully, there were other friends who were happy to lend their support – and monitor their ageing health – and as Janet checked in with the receptionist, I cleared my bag away from the seat I’d been saving for her.
The doctor’s office was a mess of snotty noses and small people, and flailing parents who were trying to keep both things under some semblance of control.
Janet greeted me with raised eyebrows, and she gave my cheek a quick kiss as she sat down, too.
She was one of those women who was growing old disgracefully (her words).
The older she got, the louder everything about her became.
Her hair was a platinum blonde this week – she’d been a brunette when I’d seen her five weeks ago – and her lipstick was bright enough to signal a stop in traffic.
She was wearing skintight black jeans and a black jumper with a panel cut out of the top of it, at the back, revealing a stretch of her shoulder blades and just a peek of her tattoo that she’d treated herself to for her forty-fifth birthday, two years back.
Janet was undeniably attractive – and she knew it, too.
Her last boyfriend had been young enough to double as her son.
‘Christ, I hate children,’ she said under her breath. Though not quietly enough to avoid a raised eyebrow from the woman opposite us, who was bouncing a coughing, spluttering small person on her knee. From the corner of my eye, I saw Janet give the woman a tight smile. ‘How are you, love?’
I laughed. ‘Fit as a butcher’s dog.’
‘Well, we’ll see about that…’
Six years ago, after finding a lump in my left breast, I started to take my health that tiny bit more seriously.
It was a seasonal visit to the doctor’s office; nothing major, nothing intrusive.
But as I’d explained to David, you wouldn’t go around driving a car for forty years without at least checking under the bonnet now and then.
‘I wouldn’t ever lift my own bonnet,’ he’d protested at the time.
Largely because David was, he thought, too virile for a health complaint.
He was conscientious enough for regular STI screenings – bought online and conducted in the privacy of our own bathroom – but that was where he drew a firm line when it came to medical personnel.
But when I’d told Janet that I was going to start up annual health checks she’d agreed it was a wise idea, and she’d asked whether she could join me.
It wasn’t as glamorous as the usual brunches we went in for, but it at least gave us the opportunity for a catch up – complete with a cup of tea and a cream cake at the end of it, once we’d been told our respective blood pressures were fine and our pulse rates were stable.
‘Any health complaints your end?’ I asked.
Janet huffed. ‘Only a pain in the arse I can’t get rid of.’ She was staring at her phone as she spoke. I watched her back-click out of a message before dropping the handset in her bag. ‘Honestly, men.’
‘Well, if you will go ahead and date children…’
‘He isn’t a child, Patti, he’s a grown man and he should know how to take rejection.’
‘Oh.’ I smirked. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘Don’t “I see” me. We agreed to see each other for a few months and then part ways.’
‘That seems a strange agreement.’
There was a long pause before she answered. ‘Well, I agreed to it.’
‘Oh, I see,’ I said again. ‘Have you tried ignoring his messages?’
‘I am,’ she answered flatly.
‘In which case, I’m sure he’ll go away soon.’
‘It’s been two weeks.’
It was my turn to stretch out a pause then. ‘I don’t think a doctor can help you with this.’
‘Perhaps not.’ She seemed to think for a moment longer before turning her attention. ‘How about you?’ she said, tapping my leg gently. ‘How’s your romance shaping up?’
I groaned and dropped my head against the wall behind me.
‘It’s as good as that?’
I laughed. ‘It actually is.’
‘But you still haven’t met the woman.’
‘But I still haven’t met–’
‘What on earth are you playing at?’
‘Oh, don’t you start.’ I faced her again. ‘I get enough of this from David.’
‘Well for once he and I are singing from the same karaoke screen.’
Janet and David didn’t exactly hate each other.
I think all of us grew out of that sort of energy somewhere in our thirties; when it occurred to us that the expenditure for it was more than we could afford in terms of brain space and eye rolling.
But they didn’t exactly get along either.
The two of them were especially fond of sparring and I think our wider friendship group – myself included – had lost track of how seriously and/or playfully they did that.
I’m not altogether sure they knew themselves.
Given that the only time they were forced together was during an annual holiday party in someone’s living room, though, it didn’t seem that important to work out whether they truly hated each other, secretly adored each other or whether – my personal theory – they’d had a misguided and drunken night of passion at some point and were now compensating with dislike, in the hope that no one would ever know the truth.
I hadn’t shared that theory with either of them, though; I valued my life.
‘Has she asked you out?’ Janet pushed.
I bunched my mouth to one side and let out a small, ‘Yes.’
‘Then why on earth–?’
‘I don’t know, Janet. I’m nervous, all right?’
‘Of?’
‘Everything.’
‘Okay, let’s unpack that.’ She checked her watch. ‘We probably have time.’
‘If I wanted a counselling appointment, I’d be in a different office.’
‘If you ever voluntarily went to a counselling appointment, I’d assume you were a cyborg.’ I nodded along; she made a fair point. I’d never exactly leaned into the process of talking about my feelings. It was another genetic trait. ‘Are you nervous of the sex?’
From the corner of my eye, I saw another mother’s head snap up.
‘Janet…’ I cautioned her.
‘What? This is a private conversation.’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘Well, imagine it is. Is it the sex?’
I sighed. ‘In part, yes. It’s also… the whole dating thing, and the David thing and–’
‘What does David have to do with this?’ she snapped. ‘Is he holding you back?’
‘No, he’s practically shoving me out the door!’
‘Then what… Oh, oh I see.’ She gave my thigh a squeeze and reached for my hand afterwards. ‘You’re nervous of another woman ruining your marriage?’
The same mother tutted then, and I narrowed my eyes at Janet. ‘You’re doing this on purpose…’
‘A little.’ She shrugged. ‘But it’s still a private conversation.’
‘I’m just… I worry that…’ I shook my head and tried to force everything out in a rush before the admission could hide away too deep. ‘I worry I’ll meet this woman and things will go well, and she’ll, whether she means to or not, she’ll just stroll in and she’ll change everything.’
Janet flashed me a tender look. She reached up, cupped my face, and ran her thumb over my cheek. ‘I know, lovely Patti. And isn’t that exciting?’
‘I…’ My mouth bobbed open and closed. Is it? ‘I don’t…’
‘Janet Sutton?’
‘Bingo!’ Janet shouted and giggled at her own joke.
I gently slapped her backside as she stood. Silly bird, I thought. Wise, silly bird…