ringing. I see that it’s Connie. I pick up immediately, despite my vows to ignore her.
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry. We’re really sorry. All of us. Very sorry. Are we forgiven?’she gabbles without pausing. I stay silent. I want more. ‘We were trying to do the right thing.’I’m mute. ‘No one knew how to discuss this with you, Rose.’Still silent. ‘If we didn’t care about you so much we wouldn’t have said anything. We could have just quietly eaten you out of house and home every Sunday, for the next couple of decades. I mean, to be honest, it’s not going to be that convenient for me if you do start dating. Next thing you know, you’ll fall in love and then you’ll neglect your friends. I’ll have to learn to cook and you know that I’ve spent my adulthood trying to avoid that. Rose, we didn’t mean to hurt you,’she adds, clearly sincere.
What am I to do? Without Daisy, Simon, Connie and Luke my life is pretty dull. There’s no point in sulking. I break into a reluctant grin and I break the silence.
‘I know,’I mutter. ‘But I hate it that everyone thinks I’m some sort of victim because I’m on my own. The truth is I think it’s a blessed relief not to have a man hanging around losing his rag and the car keys on a more or less continuous basis. I love my life. I really do.’
‘Right,’says Connie, flatly.
‘I know no one believes me. Everyone from mymother to the old guy in the corner shop think all my problems would be solved if there was a man in my life. But men don’t smell very nice and more often than not they don’t act particularly nicely either,’I argue.
‘Right,’says Connie again. But she still doesn’t sound as though she’s wholeheartedly agreeing with me. I know she’s just too scared of ruining the freshly formed truce to risk openly disagreeing. I take a sip of my coffee but it’s turned cold. The frothy treat has been neglected and now is sour. If I was a more fanciful type, I’d see that as a pertinent metaphor for my life.
‘You agree with my mum, don’t you?’I ask with a sigh.
‘And the guy in the corner shop.’Connie risks giggling now, I can hear it in her voice. ‘No, Rose, not necessarily. I don’t think all your problems would be solved if you met a man, you’d just have a new batch to deal with. I think you should meet
people
. Not just
men
. Friends. You should develop a new interest –’
‘Take up a night class,’I finish the end of her sentence with her.
‘Well, yes, why not?’
‘I was being facetious. If I had a pound for every time someone’s suggested a night class to me I’d be a very rich woman.’
‘People suggest you going to a night class because it’s a good idea. It changed my life.’
‘You really think I just need a good seeing to, don’t you, Connie?’
‘One step at a time. Personally I’ve always had apenchant for professor types; you might kill two birds with one stone.’
I sigh and hope my resentment is effectively communicated. I feel bullied.
‘How about a part-time job?’she suggests.
‘I’ve tried that. It’s impossible to find something that fits around the children.’
‘The last time you tried they were still in nappies, now they are in football boots and after-school clubs. Things might have changed.’
‘What would I do?’I wail.
‘You’re a fully trained accountant. A good one. There must be dozens of people that would benefit from you looking over their books. You could do that through the day, when the boys are at school.’
She has this habit of making things sound easy, it’s quite annoying.
‘Who’d employ me?’
‘Me for one,’she says.
‘You can’t employ me. I couldn’t accept a wage from you.’
‘Well, maybe we could do a pro rata thing. I could babysit for you while you go to your night class.’
It would be impossible not to see her good intentions. Eventually I summon the grace to mutter, ‘I suppose I should be grateful that you are just
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry. We’re really sorry. All of us. Very sorry. Are we forgiven?’she gabbles without pausing. I stay silent. I want more. ‘We were trying to do the right thing.’I’m mute. ‘No one knew how to discuss this with you, Rose.’Still silent. ‘If we didn’t care about you so much we wouldn’t have said anything. We could have just quietly eaten you out of house and home every Sunday, for the next couple of decades. I mean, to be honest, it’s not going to be that convenient for me if you do start dating. Next thing you know, you’ll fall in love and then you’ll neglect your friends. I’ll have to learn to cook and you know that I’ve spent my adulthood trying to avoid that. Rose, we didn’t mean to hurt you,’she adds, clearly sincere.
What am I to do? Without Daisy, Simon, Connie and Luke my life is pretty dull. There’s no point in sulking. I break into a reluctant grin and I break the silence.
‘I know,’I mutter. ‘But I hate it that everyone thinks I’m some sort of victim because I’m on my own. The truth is I think it’s a blessed relief not to have a man hanging around losing his rag and the car keys on a more or less continuous basis. I love my life. I really do.’
‘Right,’says Connie, flatly.
‘I know no one believes me. Everyone from mymother to the old guy in the corner shop think all my problems would be solved if there was a man in my life. But men don’t smell very nice and more often than not they don’t act particularly nicely either,’I argue.
‘Right,’says Connie again. But she still doesn’t sound as though she’s wholeheartedly agreeing with me. I know she’s just too scared of ruining the freshly formed truce to risk openly disagreeing. I take a sip of my coffee but it’s turned cold. The frothy treat has been neglected and now is sour. If I was a more fanciful type, I’d see that as a pertinent metaphor for my life.
‘You agree with my mum, don’t you?’I ask with a sigh.
‘And the guy in the corner shop.’Connie risks giggling now, I can hear it in her voice. ‘No, Rose, not necessarily. I don’t think all your problems would be solved if you met a man, you’d just have a new batch to deal with. I think you should meet
people
. Not just
men
. Friends. You should develop a new interest –’
‘Take up a night class,’I finish the end of her sentence with her.
‘Well, yes, why not?’
‘I was being facetious. If I had a pound for every time someone’s suggested a night class to me I’d be a very rich woman.’
‘People suggest you going to a night class because it’s a good idea. It changed my life.’
‘You really think I just need a good seeing to, don’t you, Connie?’
‘One step at a time. Personally I’ve always had apenchant for professor types; you might kill two birds with one stone.’
I sigh and hope my resentment is effectively communicated. I feel bullied.
‘How about a part-time job?’she suggests.
‘I’ve tried that. It’s impossible to find something that fits around the children.’
‘The last time you tried they were still in nappies, now they are in football boots and after-school clubs. Things might have changed.’
‘What would I do?’I wail.
‘You’re a fully trained accountant. A good one. There must be dozens of people that would benefit from you looking over their books. You could do that through the day, when the boys are at school.’
She has this habit of making things sound easy, it’s quite annoying.
‘Who’d employ me?’
‘Me for one,’she says.
‘You can’t employ me. I couldn’t accept a wage from you.’
‘Well, maybe we could do a pro rata thing. I could babysit for you while you go to your night class.’
It would be impossible not to see her good intentions. Eventually I summon the grace to mutter, ‘I suppose I should be grateful that you are just
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