No Ex Before Marriage, page 6
‘I’ve met someone,’ he says with a smile.
My jaw drops. I’m more shocked than I would have been if he’d given me bad news – although obviously still so relieved he didn’t. Not just because of my naturally pessimistic nature, but because I’ve never heard anything so unbelievable in my life. How? How is this possible?
‘You’ve met someone?’ I reply. ‘How? Where? Where do you even meet people?’
Dad laughs.
‘Her name is Dora. I met her online,’ he says with a pride that is so very clearly for his ever-improving technological skills, as he calls them.
‘Did she ask you for your bank account details?’ I only half joke.
Again, he just laughs at me.
‘Don’t be daft, it was on a website for widows and widowers to connect. I have actually met her,’ he insists. ‘She helped me make that cake.’
I glare at my birthday cake. The birthday cake my mum always used to make for me. Now my dad is making them with his new secret girlfriend that he met online. It’s just one of those gut reactions, a first thought that pops into my head, but the idea of someone replacing my mum practically winds me. I am happy for my dad, of course I am, it’s been four years since we lost Mum. Why shouldn’t he live his life? I suppose it just reminds me that my mum isn’t coming back.
‘My point is, don’t get so caught up in this idea of there being just one right person for everyone,’ he says. ‘You need to move on.’
Dad, reading the room, doesn’t say much else about Dora, and I don’t want to ask any questions, not right now. I don’t want him to know that I’m kind of freaked out about it.
‘Says the man who hasn’t really been in Mum’s office since the day she died,’ I remind him with a smile.
‘These days it’s mostly just because I don’t know what to do with everything,’ he replies. ‘But, okay, I’ll make you a deal. How about we both make every effort to look forward, instead of back? I’ll sort out your mum’s office, and you do whatever it is you need to do, but no more being sad at weddings, okay?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ I say, like a kid who has just been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
I’m not sure what’s less likely to happen, me moving on or my dad clearing out Mum’s old office. Then again, it sounds like he’s been making sneaky moves of his own. I’m low-key horrified at the idea of him using dating sites, not because he’s older, or even because he’s my dad, it’s because my brief stint on Matcher left me horrified. I received so many unsolicited dick pics it was months before I even considered dating again. Grim.
‘Goodness, I can’t believe my little girl is thirty-one,’ he says with a sigh. ‘Or that she’s had a sandwich in her hand for more than five minutes without eating it.’
‘Sorry,’ I say quickly. I take a big, meaningful bite. ‘It’s great, thank you.’
‘Just let me know if you want some cake before or after your presents,’ he adds.
The sandwich is great, and the cake does look amazing, even if he did have help which I’m starting to suspect he wasn’t going to disclose, but there’s a feeling deep in my stomach throwing off my appetite. I know that my dad is right. I need to stop looking into the past, stop dwelling on my divorce, and start living for the future. I felt like that’s what I was trying to do last night, with Fred, until we somehow lost each other between the two parties. But if I can hit it off with Fred, I can hit it off with anyone. And if my sixty-year-old dad can find love, then maybe there’s hope for us all. I just hope I can do it without an app.
8
‘I just found out my dad has a girlfriend,’ I blurt out of nowhere.
‘Oh, boy,’ Kat replies. She turns to the barman. ‘Can we get two more of these, please?’
We’re currently sitting at the bar in Bar None – one of those ultra-trendy cocktail places that seem to be constantly springing up, where everyone is cool and the drinks seem to take twenty minutes to mix, so I guess it makes sense she orders our next round now.
I had assumed I would be spending the latter half of my birthday at home, alone, probably eating a takeaway and watching a trashy movie, so to be all dressed up and sitting in a bar sipping mojitos with Kat is more than a pleasant surprise. It feels good to have someone to talk to as well, especially given the news I received from my dad today.
‘I’m a child of divorce,’ Kat says in a voice that has clearly said it a thousand times. It obviously doesn’t bother her any more. ‘I was like eleven when it happened, so more of my memories of my parents are of them separated than together. They were both remarried by the time I turned fourteen which means that, for my rebellious teenage years, I had four parents on my case about everything. I do remember my mum and dad arguing a lot, before they split, so it was easier to see how much happier everyone was by the time they were with other people. And even though I had two sets of parents, I got two lots of a whole load of other stuff – Christmases, birthdays, Easter eggs. I’m just gutted I was out of the Tooth Fairy years; I would have cleaned up.’
I laugh.
‘It sounds as if it was all for the best,’ I say. ‘Sometimes divorces are inevitable.’
‘So, your parents divorced too?’
‘Erm, no, actually, I’m divorced,’ I admit. I still hate telling people. I think the only reason I’m embarrassed by it is because I’m still young. I hate that they were right, those people who said Zac and I were too young to tie the knot. No one likes to think of themselves as being young and stupid, even though we all were at some point, I suppose.
‘Oh, wow, really?’ Kat replies, interested but in no way judging. She isn’t even reacting like it’s a big deal but, I suppose given that she’s lived through it and it’s all worked out for the best, it isn’t.
‘Yeah, but I guess it’s not something to get into on my birthday,’ I say with a laugh.
‘No, of course not,’ she replies. ‘So is your mum…’
Kat’s voice trails off. I get it. People are never sure how to ask.
‘She passed away,’ I tell her. ‘She was in a car accident. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing. It’s going to sound strange, but you kind of remind me of her. You do what you want, you say what you think. You don’t take any rubbish from anyone, which I always really admired about my mum, but I’ve never quite been able to get there myself.’
‘She sounds like she was a seriously cool lady,’ Kay says with a smile.
‘She was,’ I reply. ‘It’s been years, it’s not like my dad is rushing into anything, I just had no idea he was using a dating app!’
‘Which one?’ Kat asks curiously. ‘I have generous parameters; I could have seen his profile.’
Oh, God, imagine! The only thing worse than the idea of me dating a friend’s brother would be a friend dating my dad.
‘It was an app for widows and widowers,’ I tell her.
‘Ah, right, okay,’ she replies. ‘I’ve not resorted to that one yet.’
I laugh but Kat raises her eyebrows, as though to suggest there may have been one or two strange choices she’s given a go in an attempt to find love.
‘I don’t want to get all therapist on you or anything,’ Kat starts. ‘Especially not on your birthday, and definitely not in a bar. But how do you feel about it?’
‘It’s a weird one,’ I reply. ‘He’s my dad. I love him. I want him to be happy. I guess it’s just hard for me to think about him with someone else. Not because he’s my dad, although no one likes to think of their parents as having any romantic feelings, no matter how old they are, but it’s more to do with the fact that, well, it feels like this woman is taking my mum’s place. Not like she’s trying to or anything, just, simply, she’s occupying the space where my mum used to be, and I know she’s not coming back to fill that gap but…’
I sigh.
‘I think holes can be filled by all sorts,’ Kat says. I raise my eyebrows and she cackles. ‘No, come on, I’m being serious for once. The hole your mum left in your hearts and the chair she left at the table are different things. The chair signifies her loss, but your dad having someone else to sit with him doesn’t change the way you feel, or replace your mum, but if it makes him happy…’
‘It sounds like she does,’ I say. ‘She helped him bake my birthday cake. I guess because Mum used to do that, it just freaked me out a bit.’
‘Was it good cake?’ Kat asks.
I can’t help but laugh.
‘Yes, it was really good,’ I tell her.
‘Sometimes that’s enough,’ she says with a shrug. ‘If life is short, then take good cake where you can get it, that’s what I say.’
I smile at her.
‘You would actually make a really good therapist,’ I say.
‘I’m just talking semi-philosophical tipsy shit,’ she insists, sipping her drink and batting her hand.
‘You’re talking sense,’ I tell her. ‘And you supply drinks – that makes a world of difference. I think more people would go in for therapy if cocktails were involved. Then again, I imagine more people would need it.’
‘I’ll stick with being your own personal therapist,’ Kat says with a smile. ‘Seriously, though, I know what it’s like, when all your friends outgrow you, you’ve got stuff going on, and no one to talk to. So, if you ever need anything, or to talk – I’m your friend. Call me.’
I may have only known Kat for little more than a day, but I couldn’t be happier to have found friendship with her. She seems like a good person – and a really fun one too. I meant it when I said she reminded me of my mum, they’ve got that same energy, and it’s one that supercharges me.
People are right when they say: when you know, you know. I don’t think love at first sight only applies to romantic relationships, I think you can apply it to friendships too.
Then again, I’ve known before, and look where that got me.
9
Things between me and the girls have been feeling a bit off for a while now. On the one hand, I get it, our lives are moving in different directions, but on the other hand, surely that’s no reason we can’t still be friends?
I am trying to come to terms with the fact that maybe there isn’t always going to be a place for me with them in their social activities, but when Kat invited herself along to the couples’ cooking class, the idea of turning up with her was too tempting to resist. Just for once, I didn’t want to resign myself to being the sad single friend, I wanted to join in – even though, technically, it was an activity I wouldn’t usually want to join in with. It’s the principle of the matter.
Of course, what sounds fantastic in theory (and after a few drinks) isn’t always as satisfying in practice, and now that I’m standing here with Kat in tow, my friends and their significant others all staring at us, I actually feel worse than ever. I thought this was going to be great; a way to be included, keeping the numbers up and even in a positively feminist way. Everyone looks so annoyed though, so it’s clearly not playing out like I’d hoped.
‘Kat?’ Kevin blurts. ‘What are you doing here?’
I forget that Kat and Kevin are cousins – probably because they’re not in any way alike.
‘I’m with Poppy,’ she announces.
‘Ohhh,’ he replies, as though he’s just had some big realisation. ‘We all had our suspicions…’
‘Poppy, what are you doing?’ Rachael asks, her face contorted with bemusement. ‘I thought you had a date.’
‘Well, I just, er…’
‘She really wanted to come,’ Kat interrupts me. ‘So I said I’d come with her.’
‘Is there a problem here?’ a short, redheaded woman asks us in hushed tones.
We’re in one of the kitchen classrooms at the local college, and I wouldn’t exactly say we were making a scene, but it seems like we’re already in trouble with the teacher.
The room reminds me of every food tech classroom I’ve ever been in. Multiple workstations are dotted around, each with its own sink, hob and oven. Imagine an indoor version of The Great British Bake Off, just with a secondary school vibe that somehow makes you panic about having PE later, and without the hilarious hosts.
‘No, no. No problem,’ I insist, embarrassed.
‘Okay, well, if you get your aprons on, we’re ready to start,’ our teacher replies.
‘Poppy, why are you acting out like this?’ Sally asks, calling me out in front of the gang. ‘Don’t think we didn’t notice you go AWOL from the wedding, and now you’re turning up here with her? And I see you haven’t brought my shoes, like you said you would when I texted you only a couple of hours ago!’
‘I forgot your shoes at my dad’s,’ I lie. I never did find them again at the wedding, so my plan is to buy her a new pair and hope she doesn’t notice. I’d never hear the end of it.
‘Is she making you do this stuff?’ Rachael asks, shooting Kat a dirty look.
Kat cackles with laughter.
‘I just don’t understand why you would bring some random girl to this,’ Sally says. She is beyond bemused. I hate the way they’re all looking at me, even the husbands. They’re not saying anything (would they even dare?!) but I can tell they’re judging me too.
‘Because I want to be included,’ I insist. ‘And I’m not letting my social life be dictated by what you all seem to think is my inability to find a man. So why wouldn’t I bring a girl?’
I feel good about myself, for finding my voice, for sticking up for myself and defending my (what they seem to think is an) alternative lifestyle.
‘Okay couples, we’re going to start by warming up our ovens and ourselves,’ the class leader starts. ‘So, fire up your ovens to 200 degrees centigrade and then sensually massage each other’s hands. Big, meaningful strokes, look into each other’s eyes…’
Oh. So that’s why I wouldn’t bring a random girl to couples’ cooking class. It isn’t just about the cooking, it’s about the couples too. Oh, now I get why everyone is looking at me like that. Yep, this is weird.
Rachael’s phone starts ringing, breaking the awkward silence.
‘This number has called me three times now, I’d better see who it is,’ she announces. ‘Hello?’
Rachael listens for a few moments before her eyes dart in my direction.
‘Right, I see,’ she says. She listens a few more seconds. ‘Okay, one moment please… Poppy, it’s for you.’
‘For me?’ I reply.
‘It’s a man called Fred who apparently – in a move that has made me very angry and concerned for my data – got my number from the hotel, to contact you. He says he has your shoes. How does he have your shoes?’
‘My shoes?’ Sally chimes in angrily. ‘The ones she said were at her dad’s?’
Rachael laughs, but it isn’t an amused laugh, it’s an angry one. Her cheeks flush and her jaw tightens.
‘I see,’ she says before turning back to me. ‘Apparently you took them off when you were trying to convince Liam – my brother Liam, I assume – to jump in the hotel pool naked. He also wants a word with you.’
Rachael meaningfully holds out her phone for me to take and, honestly, she looks so angry, I daren’t refuse.
I reach out, wondering whether this might be some kind of trap, but take the phone from her and hold it to my ear. Everyone is watching me. Only Kat is smiling.
‘Erm, hello?’ I say.
‘Poppy, hello,’ Fred says. I can hear his smile down the phone. ‘Sorry, did I just land you in it?’
‘That’s okay,’ I reply. ‘What can I do for you?’
God, I sound so awkward, and ridiculous.
‘I lost you at the party and I couldn’t find you the next day,’ he replies. ‘I had your shoes but, also, I wondered, erm… would you like to go for dinner with me this evening?’
‘Oh,’ is about all I can say.
‘I did try to call earlier, but I had to get someone at the hotel to tell me whose wedding it was, give me their number, and your friend didn’t answer… I know it’s a bit short notice… If you’d rather…’
‘Oh, no, that’s fine,’ I say – again, so awkward, but everyone is still listening to my half of the conversation.
‘Okay,’ Fred says with a laugh. ‘How about I meet you at Salvo’s at half seven?’
‘Yep, sounds good,’ I reply. ‘See you then.’
‘See you?’ Rachael repeats back to me as I hand her phone back. ‘You’re going to see this random man?’
‘I’m going to get Sally’s shoes back, aren’t I?’ I point out.
‘Places, people, places,’ the class leader insists for our benefit.
‘This isn’t over,’ Sally warns me. Lindsey just shoots me a look. She’s always been the quiet one, but I’ve always been able to read her eyes.
I can’t believe they’re all so mad at me, just for letting my hair down a bit, for the first time in ages.
‘So, you’re seeing Fit Fred again,’ Kat eventually whispers to me when I take my place next to her behind our counter.
‘He asked me on a date,’ I confess. ‘I’m meeting him at half seven.’
Kat’s eyes light up for me. Now that’s a friend.
‘It’s half six now,’ she replies. ‘We need to go and get you ready. What say we just slink out of here now, hope no one notices? Unless you want to rub my neck while I broil something?’
‘Ooh, tempting,’ I joke. ‘But, yes, let’s go. I don’t think we’re wanted here and it’s clearly about to get weird. Anyway, I need different clothes, make-up and personality.’
‘I’ll give you one out of three,’ Kat replies through a laugh. ‘If this is a date, you need to wear something sexier. Who knows, maybe this time you won’t lose him at the end of the night?’
I just smile. Wouldn’t that be nice?
10
Salvo’s – a gorgeous little Italian restaurant in town – is one of my favourite places to eat. I don’t think I ever met an Italian I didn’t like (the food or the people) and this place has the best of everything. Salvo, the owner, is the life and soul of the place. He’s here working every night, even though I’m sure he doesn’t need to, to the point where he’s sort of a celebrity. Everyone who has been here more than once knows him, and while he treats everyone who walks through the doors like a member of his family, he can’t possibly remember everyone.
