I held my breath.
I think he did too.
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Then he let go of the money and it jangled into my pocket.
What did you expect me to do? Slap him for taking liberties? I mean, the boy had to give me my change and I had no free hands. He did exactly the right thing.
Although I did think that people that attractive should carry permits. They should have to take some kind of exam to prove that they can be trusted to behave responsibly out on the streets looking so gorgeous. And it wasn't just that he was so handsome. Which he undeniably was. But he was so big and manly.
He made me feel like such a feminine little woman.
It was the large nightgown syndrome all over again.
He said, "Who are you here with?"
And I said, "My friend Laura."
He said, "Can I join you?"
I said, "Of course."
Why not, I thought. He's entertaining and sweet and Laura will enjoy him.
Although he might be a bit old for her.
He steered me through the packed pub. I must say, people treated me with a lot more respect with him around.
I don't think I had more than one drop of alcohol spilled on me on my journey back from the bar as opposed to an entire brewery-full on the outward journey.
Very unfair, of course, but there we are.
We passed a crowd of people who seemed to know Adam.
"Adam, where are you going?" demanded one of the girls. Blond. Pink pouty mouth. Very young. Very pretty.
"I've met an old friend," he told her. "I'm going to have a drink with her."
I quickly scanned the crowd to make sure that Helen wasn't there. Thankfully, I couldn't see her.
However, I did notice an older woman in among them, looking very anxious as Adam bypassed their little group. Could this be the poor lovesick Professor Staunton?
I was aware of several hostile looks. All from girls. It was almost funny. Fuck them, I thought cheerfully. If only they knew, they have nothing to fear from me. My husband dumped me, I wanted to tell them, and he was only average good-looking.
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I brought Adam over and introduced him to Laura.
She blushed.
So he did have this effect on every woman he met, I observed. And not just on the women in my family.
Somehow Adam found a spare seat.
He was that kind of guy.
"You're a terrible fibber." I smiled at him.
"Why?" he asked, opening his blue eyes very wide and looking all inno- cent and little-boyish.
"Telling that poor girl that I'm an old friend," I told him.
"Well, you are," he said. "You're old."
"As in `older than me' kind of `old,'" he told me hastily as he noticed my eyes starting to narrow. "And I only know that because I asked Helen what age you were. I thought you were much younger."
I just looked at him, thinking, I've got to hand it to him.
"And," he continued, "even though we've only met once before I feel like you're a friend."
Yes, I thought, he's definitely redeemed himself.
It was at this stage, Laura later told me, that she took off her underpants and lifted her skirt but that neither of us noticed. I don't believe her for a second, but I do believe I understand the point she was making.
Laura asked Adam how he knew me and he said, "I'm in college with Helen."
Laura gave me a look that said a lot. Something like, "Oh God no, a bloody student. We'll have to pretend to be interested in whatever boring subject he's studying."
"It's okay." He smiled at Laura. "You don't have to ask me what I'm studying."
"Oh," she said, a bit embarrassed. "In that case I won't."
There was a little bit of a pause.
"Well," said Laura, "I'm actually curious now."
"That wasn't my intention." Adam laughed. "But seeing as you've asked, I'm in first year doing English, psychology and anthropology."
"First year?" asked Laura with a raise of her eyebrows, obviously alluding to his--what shall we say--less than boyish demeanor.
"Yes," said Adam. "I'm a mature student. Or so they tell
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me. I don't feel a bit mature. Only when I compare myself with my class- mates, I suppose."
"Are they awful?" I asked, willing him to say yes.
"Not awful," he said. "Just young. I suppose somebody has to be. I mean, they're all seventeen or eighteen and they're all just out of school and they're only going to college to put off being responsible for another couple of years. Not because they have any great interest in learning. Or love of their subjects."
Laura and I had the grace to look extremely shamefaced as he said this. Laura and Judy and I had been prime examples of the lazy, self-indulgent types he was describing.
"How awful for you," I murmured.
Laura and I smirked at each other.
"And how come you're going to college now?" I asked him.
"Well, I never wanted to go before. I never really knew what I wanted to do when I left school. So I did all the wrong things," he said intriguingly.
"And recently I've got my life back together. It was in a bit of a mess," he continued, even more intriguingly. "And now I'm ready for college. I really love it."
"Really?" I said, impressed by his maturity and his single-mindedness.
"Yes," he said.
Then he continued hesitantly, "I think I'm lucky to have waited until now. Because now I can really appreciate it. I think everyone should have to go and work for a couple of years before deciding whether they want to study some more."
"Is that what you did?" I asked him. "Did you work?"
"Sort of," he said abruptly, obviously not wanting to say anymore.
Curiouser and curiouser.
So squeaky-clean Adam has a Past.
Well, that's how he was making it sound.
I bet he's just trying to be all mysterious and create a myth around him- self, I thought uncharitably. He's probably worked in the civil service for the past six years. Probably in the least glamorous department, like the livestock licensing one, if there is such a thing.
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Laura asked Adam the second question that one always asks students. (The first being, What are you studying?) "What do you want to do when you get your degree?" she asked.
I think he did too.
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Then he let go of the money and it jangled into my pocket.
What did you expect me to do? Slap him for taking liberties? I mean, the boy had to give me my change and I had no free hands. He did exactly the right thing.
Although I did think that people that attractive should carry permits. They should have to take some kind of exam to prove that they can be trusted to behave responsibly out on the streets looking so gorgeous. And it wasn't just that he was so handsome. Which he undeniably was. But he was so big and manly.
He made me feel like such a feminine little woman.
It was the large nightgown syndrome all over again.
He said, "Who are you here with?"
And I said, "My friend Laura."
He said, "Can I join you?"
I said, "Of course."
Why not, I thought. He's entertaining and sweet and Laura will enjoy him.
Although he might be a bit old for her.
He steered me through the packed pub. I must say, people treated me with a lot more respect with him around.
I don't think I had more than one drop of alcohol spilled on me on my journey back from the bar as opposed to an entire brewery-full on the outward journey.
Very unfair, of course, but there we are.
We passed a crowd of people who seemed to know Adam.
"Adam, where are you going?" demanded one of the girls. Blond. Pink pouty mouth. Very young. Very pretty.
"I've met an old friend," he told her. "I'm going to have a drink with her."
I quickly scanned the crowd to make sure that Helen wasn't there. Thankfully, I couldn't see her.
However, I did notice an older woman in among them, looking very anxious as Adam bypassed their little group. Could this be the poor lovesick Professor Staunton?
I was aware of several hostile looks. All from girls. It was almost funny. Fuck them, I thought cheerfully. If only they knew, they have nothing to fear from me. My husband dumped me, I wanted to tell them, and he was only average good-looking.
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I brought Adam over and introduced him to Laura.
She blushed.
So he did have this effect on every woman he met, I observed. And not just on the women in my family.
Somehow Adam found a spare seat.
He was that kind of guy.
"You're a terrible fibber." I smiled at him.
"Why?" he asked, opening his blue eyes very wide and looking all inno- cent and little-boyish.
"Telling that poor girl that I'm an old friend," I told him.
"Well, you are," he said. "You're old."
"As in `older than me' kind of `old,'" he told me hastily as he noticed my eyes starting to narrow. "And I only know that because I asked Helen what age you were. I thought you were much younger."
I just looked at him, thinking, I've got to hand it to him.
"And," he continued, "even though we've only met once before I feel like you're a friend."
Yes, I thought, he's definitely redeemed himself.
It was at this stage, Laura later told me, that she took off her underpants and lifted her skirt but that neither of us noticed. I don't believe her for a second, but I do believe I understand the point she was making.
Laura asked Adam how he knew me and he said, "I'm in college with Helen."
Laura gave me a look that said a lot. Something like, "Oh God no, a bloody student. We'll have to pretend to be interested in whatever boring subject he's studying."
"It's okay." He smiled at Laura. "You don't have to ask me what I'm studying."
"Oh," she said, a bit embarrassed. "In that case I won't."
There was a little bit of a pause.
"Well," said Laura, "I'm actually curious now."
"That wasn't my intention." Adam laughed. "But seeing as you've asked, I'm in first year doing English, psychology and anthropology."
"First year?" asked Laura with a raise of her eyebrows, obviously alluding to his--what shall we say--less than boyish demeanor.
"Yes," said Adam. "I'm a mature student. Or so they tell
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me. I don't feel a bit mature. Only when I compare myself with my class- mates, I suppose."
"Are they awful?" I asked, willing him to say yes.
"Not awful," he said. "Just young. I suppose somebody has to be. I mean, they're all seventeen or eighteen and they're all just out of school and they're only going to college to put off being responsible for another couple of years. Not because they have any great interest in learning. Or love of their subjects."
Laura and I had the grace to look extremely shamefaced as he said this. Laura and Judy and I had been prime examples of the lazy, self-indulgent types he was describing.
"How awful for you," I murmured.
Laura and I smirked at each other.
"And how come you're going to college now?" I asked him.
"Well, I never wanted to go before. I never really knew what I wanted to do when I left school. So I did all the wrong things," he said intriguingly.
"And recently I've got my life back together. It was in a bit of a mess," he continued, even more intriguingly. "And now I'm ready for college. I really love it."
"Really?" I said, impressed by his maturity and his single-mindedness.
"Yes," he said.
Then he continued hesitantly, "I think I'm lucky to have waited until now. Because now I can really appreciate it. I think everyone should have to go and work for a couple of years before deciding whether they want to study some more."
"Is that what you did?" I asked him. "Did you work?"
"Sort of," he said abruptly, obviously not wanting to say anymore.
Curiouser and curiouser.
So squeaky-clean Adam has a Past.
Well, that's how he was making it sound.
I bet he's just trying to be all mysterious and create a myth around him- self, I thought uncharitably. He's probably worked in the civil service for the past six years. Probably in the least glamorous department, like the livestock licensing one, if there is such a thing.
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Laura asked Adam the second question that one always asks students. (The first being, What are you studying?) "What do you want to do when you get your degree?" she asked.
