By the time I reached the church hall, everyone else was sitting down. Natasha moved obligingly so that I could take the plastic chair beside her.
‘Tonight we’re talking about signs that we might be moving on,’ said Marc, who was holding a mug of tea. ‘These don’t have to be huge things – new relationships, or throwing out clothes or whatever. Just small things that make us see there may be a way through grief. It’s surprising how many of these signs go unnoticed, or we refuse to acknowledge them because we feel guilty for moving forward.’
‘I joined a dating website,’ said Fred. ‘It’s called May to December.’
There was a low hum of surprise and approval.
‘That’s very encouraging, Fred.’ Marc sipped his tea. ‘What are you hoping to get from it? Some company? I remember you said you particularly missed having someone to go for a walk with on Sunday afternoons. Down by the duck pond, wasn’t it, where you and your wife used to go?’
‘Oh, no. It’s for internet sex.’
Marc spluttered. There was a brief pause while someone handed him a tissue to mop the tea off his trousers.
‘Internet sex. That’s what they’re all doing, isn’t it? I’ve joined three sites.’ Fred held up his hand, counting them off on his fingers. ‘May to December, that’s for young women who like older men, Sugar-Papas, for young women who like older men with money, and … um … Hot Studs.’ He paused. ‘They weren’t specific.’
There was a short silence.
‘It’s nice to be optimistic, Fred,’ said Natasha.
‘How about you, Louisa?’
‘Um …’ I hesitated, given Jake was in front of me, and then thought, What the hell? ‘I actually went on a date this weekend.’
There was a low woo-hoo! from other members of the group. I looked down a little sheepishly. I couldn’t even think about that night without colour seeping into my face.
‘And how did it go?’
‘It was … surprising.’
‘She shagged someone. She totally shagged someone,’ said Natasha.
‘She’s got that glow,’ said William.
‘Did he have moves?’ said Fred. ‘Got any tips?’
‘And you managed to not think about Bill too much?’
‘Not enough to stop me … I just felt I wanted to do something that …’ I shrugged ‘… I just wanted to feel alive.’
There was a murmur of agreement at that word. It was what we all wanted, ultimately, to be freed from our grief. To be released from this underworld of the dead, half our hearts lost underground, or trapped in little porcelain urns. It felt good to have something positive to say for once.
Marc nodded encouragingly. ‘I think it sounds very healthy.’
I listened to Sunil say that he had started to listen to music again, and Natasha talk about how she had moved some of the pictures of her husband from the living room to her bedroom ‘so that I don’t end up talking about him every single time somebody comes round’. Daphne had stopped sniffing her husband’s shirts, furtively, in his wardrobe. ‘If I’m honest, they didn’t really smell of him any more anyway. I think it was just a habit I’d got into.’
‘And you, Jake?’
He still looked miserable. ‘I go out more, I s’pose.’
‘Have you talked to your father about your feelings?’
‘No.’
I tried not to look at him as he spoke. I felt oddly raw, not knowing what he knew.
‘I think he likes someone, though.’
‘More shagging?’ said Fred.
‘No, I mean as in properly likes someone.’
I could feel myself blushing. I tried rubbing at an invisible mark on my shoe in an attempt to hide my face.
‘What makes you think that, Jake?’
‘He started talking about her over breakfast the other day. He was saying that he thought he was going to stop the whole picking-up-random-women thing. That he had met someone and he might want to make a go of it with her.’
I was glowing like a beacon. I couldn’t believe that nobody else in the room was able to see it.
‘So do you think he’s finally worked out that rebound relationships are not the way forward? Perhaps he just needed a few partners before he fell in love with someone again.’
‘He’s done a lot of rebounding,’ said William. ‘Actual Space Hopper levels of rebounding.’
‘Jake? How does that make you feel?’ said Marc.
‘A bit weird. I mean, I miss my mum, but I do think it’s probably good that he’s moving on.’
I tried to imagine what Sam had said. Had he mentioned me by name? I could picture the two of them in the kitchen of the little railway carriage, having this earnest discussion over tea and toast. My cheeks were aflame. I wasn’t sure I wanted Sam to make assumptions about us so early on. I should have been clearer that it hadn’t meant we were in a relationship. It was too soon. And too soon to have Jake discussing us in public.
‘And have you met the woman?’ said Natasha. ‘Do you like her?’
Jake ducked his head. ‘Yeah. That was the really crap bit.’
I glanced up.
‘He asked her round for brunch on Sunday, and she was a total nightmare. She wore this super-tight top and she kept putting her arm around me like she knew me, and laughing too loudly, and then when my dad was in the garden she would look at me with these big round eyes and go, “And how are you?” with this really annoying head tilt.’
‘Oh, the head tilt,’ said William, and there was a low murmur of agreement. Everyone knew the head tilt.
‘And when Dad was there she just giggled and flicked her hair all the time, like she was trying to be a teenager even though she was plainly at least thirty.’ He wrinkled his nose in disgust.
‘Thirty!’ said Daphne, her gaze sliding sideways. ‘Imagine!’
‘I actually preferred the one who used to quiz me about what he was up to. At least she didn’t pretend to be my best friend.’
I could barely hear the rest of what he said. A distant ringing had begun in my ears, drowning out all sound. How could I have been so stupid? I suddenly recalled Jake’s eye roll the first time he had watched Sam chatting me up. There was my warning, right there, and I had been stupid enough to ignore it.
I felt hot and shaky. I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t listen to any more. ‘Um … I just remembered. I have an appointment,’ I mumbled, gathering up my bag and bolting from my seat. ‘Sorry.’
‘Everything all right, Louisa?’ said Marc.
‘Totally fine. Got to dash.’ I ran for the door, my fake smile plastered on my face so tightly that it was painful.
He was there. Of course he was. He had just pulled up on the bike in the car park and was removing his helmet. I emerged from the church hall and stopped at the top of the steps, wondering if there was any way I could get to my car without passing him, but it was hopeless. The physical part of my brain registered the shape of him before the remaining synapses caught up: a flush of pleasure, the flash of memory of how his hands had felt on me. And then that blazing anger, the blood pulse of humiliation.
‘Tonight we’re talking about signs that we might be moving on,’ said Marc, who was holding a mug of tea. ‘These don’t have to be huge things – new relationships, or throwing out clothes or whatever. Just small things that make us see there may be a way through grief. It’s surprising how many of these signs go unnoticed, or we refuse to acknowledge them because we feel guilty for moving forward.’
‘I joined a dating website,’ said Fred. ‘It’s called May to December.’
There was a low hum of surprise and approval.
‘That’s very encouraging, Fred.’ Marc sipped his tea. ‘What are you hoping to get from it? Some company? I remember you said you particularly missed having someone to go for a walk with on Sunday afternoons. Down by the duck pond, wasn’t it, where you and your wife used to go?’
‘Oh, no. It’s for internet sex.’
Marc spluttered. There was a brief pause while someone handed him a tissue to mop the tea off his trousers.
‘Internet sex. That’s what they’re all doing, isn’t it? I’ve joined three sites.’ Fred held up his hand, counting them off on his fingers. ‘May to December, that’s for young women who like older men, Sugar-Papas, for young women who like older men with money, and … um … Hot Studs.’ He paused. ‘They weren’t specific.’
There was a short silence.
‘It’s nice to be optimistic, Fred,’ said Natasha.
‘How about you, Louisa?’
‘Um …’ I hesitated, given Jake was in front of me, and then thought, What the hell? ‘I actually went on a date this weekend.’
There was a low woo-hoo! from other members of the group. I looked down a little sheepishly. I couldn’t even think about that night without colour seeping into my face.
‘And how did it go?’
‘It was … surprising.’
‘She shagged someone. She totally shagged someone,’ said Natasha.
‘She’s got that glow,’ said William.
‘Did he have moves?’ said Fred. ‘Got any tips?’
‘And you managed to not think about Bill too much?’
‘Not enough to stop me … I just felt I wanted to do something that …’ I shrugged ‘… I just wanted to feel alive.’
There was a murmur of agreement at that word. It was what we all wanted, ultimately, to be freed from our grief. To be released from this underworld of the dead, half our hearts lost underground, or trapped in little porcelain urns. It felt good to have something positive to say for once.
Marc nodded encouragingly. ‘I think it sounds very healthy.’
I listened to Sunil say that he had started to listen to music again, and Natasha talk about how she had moved some of the pictures of her husband from the living room to her bedroom ‘so that I don’t end up talking about him every single time somebody comes round’. Daphne had stopped sniffing her husband’s shirts, furtively, in his wardrobe. ‘If I’m honest, they didn’t really smell of him any more anyway. I think it was just a habit I’d got into.’
‘And you, Jake?’
He still looked miserable. ‘I go out more, I s’pose.’
‘Have you talked to your father about your feelings?’
‘No.’
I tried not to look at him as he spoke. I felt oddly raw, not knowing what he knew.
‘I think he likes someone, though.’
‘More shagging?’ said Fred.
‘No, I mean as in properly likes someone.’
I could feel myself blushing. I tried rubbing at an invisible mark on my shoe in an attempt to hide my face.
‘What makes you think that, Jake?’
‘He started talking about her over breakfast the other day. He was saying that he thought he was going to stop the whole picking-up-random-women thing. That he had met someone and he might want to make a go of it with her.’
I was glowing like a beacon. I couldn’t believe that nobody else in the room was able to see it.
‘So do you think he’s finally worked out that rebound relationships are not the way forward? Perhaps he just needed a few partners before he fell in love with someone again.’
‘He’s done a lot of rebounding,’ said William. ‘Actual Space Hopper levels of rebounding.’
‘Jake? How does that make you feel?’ said Marc.
‘A bit weird. I mean, I miss my mum, but I do think it’s probably good that he’s moving on.’
I tried to imagine what Sam had said. Had he mentioned me by name? I could picture the two of them in the kitchen of the little railway carriage, having this earnest discussion over tea and toast. My cheeks were aflame. I wasn’t sure I wanted Sam to make assumptions about us so early on. I should have been clearer that it hadn’t meant we were in a relationship. It was too soon. And too soon to have Jake discussing us in public.
‘And have you met the woman?’ said Natasha. ‘Do you like her?’
Jake ducked his head. ‘Yeah. That was the really crap bit.’
I glanced up.
‘He asked her round for brunch on Sunday, and she was a total nightmare. She wore this super-tight top and she kept putting her arm around me like she knew me, and laughing too loudly, and then when my dad was in the garden she would look at me with these big round eyes and go, “And how are you?” with this really annoying head tilt.’
‘Oh, the head tilt,’ said William, and there was a low murmur of agreement. Everyone knew the head tilt.
‘And when Dad was there she just giggled and flicked her hair all the time, like she was trying to be a teenager even though she was plainly at least thirty.’ He wrinkled his nose in disgust.
‘Thirty!’ said Daphne, her gaze sliding sideways. ‘Imagine!’
‘I actually preferred the one who used to quiz me about what he was up to. At least she didn’t pretend to be my best friend.’
I could barely hear the rest of what he said. A distant ringing had begun in my ears, drowning out all sound. How could I have been so stupid? I suddenly recalled Jake’s eye roll the first time he had watched Sam chatting me up. There was my warning, right there, and I had been stupid enough to ignore it.
I felt hot and shaky. I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t listen to any more. ‘Um … I just remembered. I have an appointment,’ I mumbled, gathering up my bag and bolting from my seat. ‘Sorry.’
‘Everything all right, Louisa?’ said Marc.
‘Totally fine. Got to dash.’ I ran for the door, my fake smile plastered on my face so tightly that it was painful.
He was there. Of course he was. He had just pulled up on the bike in the car park and was removing his helmet. I emerged from the church hall and stopped at the top of the steps, wondering if there was any way I could get to my car without passing him, but it was hopeless. The physical part of my brain registered the shape of him before the remaining synapses caught up: a flush of pleasure, the flash of memory of how his hands had felt on me. And then that blazing anger, the blood pulse of humiliation.
