Free A Certain Age by Lynne Truss Page B

all away? Or Gerald! I could talk to Gerald, I’m sure of it. I mean, obviously we’ve had our ups and downs lately, but if I’m big enough to put them behind me, I’m sure he ought to be too. Life without drama wouldn’t be veryinteresting, would it, that’s what I’ll say to him. It’s what I used to say to Sasha, of course.
    So they turned up at 7.30, and I was ready. The backless taffeta was something I’d been saving for ages, and when she came in Sasha was so nice about the effort I’d made that I was truly quite touched. “Happy birthday, Mum, you look foxy,” she said, spotting me in the sitting room and leading Mike in with her. “Great shoes,” added Mike. I was touched, but the moment I started to show it, “Oh don’t cry, Mum,” Sasha said. “Don’t start.” So I sniffed a bit and dabbed my eyes very carefully. But it was lovely to hear her say something nice. “You look lovely too, Sasha,” I said. And yes, all right, it wasn’t exactly true, but there was no need for her to get so impatient straight away. “Like, RIGHT ,” she said. “I look ‘lovely’.” “But you do,” I said. She took a deep breath and started to leave the room. “Mike,” I said. “Tell her she’s lovely.” “I’m going to the off licence,” said Sasha. And although she walked quietly out of the house, I noticed she slammed the door.
    Which left me alone with Mike. “Sasha hates attention, I don’t know why,” I said. “She’s a lovely girl. She’s always hated having her photograph taken; I’m surprised she’s going out with a photographer.” Mike made a square frame in the air using right-angled fingers and thumbs, looked at me through it with one eye closed. I smiled at him. Struck a pose. He rolled off the sofa, and pretended to take urgent pictures from the floor, on his knees, while I did the fashion model thing of turning, smiling, frowning, simpering, pointing my chin at different corners of the room. It felt quite natural. “You’re very game, Janey,” he said. I took it as a compliment. Of course it was an odd moment to remind me he was a photographer, but on the other hand, I was beginning to thinkhe was an odd chap altogether. Sasha is no catch, as I may have said already. Even as her own mother, I have to admit Mike’s the first person who’s shown the slightest interest in her. “I wonder if I should go after her,” I said, getting up. But I didn’t get far. He pushed me back down, sat beside me. “I need to say something, Janey,” said Mike. “I know,” I said, softly. I knew what he was going to say. He was going to say that it was madness, but he couldn’t resist me. He took my hand. I held my breath. “Janey?” “Yes, Mike.” “I want to say this in the nicest possible way, Janey. But basically, could you stop coming on to me, please, because it’s really, really embarrassing.”
    [
Pretending to make light of it
] Crikey, it’s hot in here. They should do something about the thermostat, it can’t be good for you. Hard to breathe. Anyway, we were side by side on the couch, Mike and I, and the lights were low – that’s just the way it was, I hadn’t arranged it. And I suddenly felt this awful desperation. Mike might say he didn’t want me, but I knew he did. I get things wrong a lot, I know I do, it’s true, but I don’t get that thing wrong. I’ve never, ever got that thing wrong. So I leaned across, put my hands to his face, and kissed him. And for a few seconds I had him, he put his arms round me, held me tightly, oh so close, and kissed me back. And then, then he quite roughly pushed me away. At which point Sasha walked back in with a bottle of champagne. And I felt something heavy drop out of my body and roll away.
    Patsy, the cool lady who runs the steam room, just told me Maureen isn’t on duty today. She peered through the heavy-aired gloom to see who was using the sauna, and did a double-take – surprised to see me back so soon, you see.