Getting on with It

I wake myself up feeling shattered and newly bereft.

I have to make it up to Zoe otherwise she’ll end up being ashamed to see me. I call her and invite her for Sunday lunch. She’s reluctant to accept but I plead, saying that I have to apologise somehow. When she agrees I breathe a sigh of relief.

Rescued.

I make a real effort and Zoe looks surprised when I open the door to her. Following THAT video, I think she was expecting me to look like a text-book relationship car crash, but I put my makeover into full throttle and I can see she’s impressed.

‘Wow – you look amazing,’ she declares as she walks in, ‘really amazing. I wasn’t expecting this at all.’

For the rest of the day I keep noticing her looking me up and down.

After my dream I’d been ready to throw myself into Zoe’s arms and beg her to come and live with me for ever. I’d ask her to speak to Alan and tell him it had all been a dreadful mistake; we all needed to be together. That was the natural order and it had to be restored.

Instead, I feel a sense of pride in Zoe’s voice and decide to live up to my image.

‘Thanks, a quick G&T before dinner?’ asks my fake confident self.

I feel as if I’m working in First Class again; I’m the perfect hostess making polite conversation. Zoe tells me all about her work. The hotel is doing well but taking up all of her time.

‘A new career always takes up all your time,’ I tell her. ‘When people talk about work-life balance they mean that you get your first twenty years to yourself and then your last twenty years – but the forty in between you have to slog it out.’

‘Oh well, at least I’m enjoying it,’ she answers raising her drink to me.

I tell her about the book-club weekend away and our idea to try to do more events to boost sales. My daughter and I are having a grown-up conversation.

Rioja follows the G&T.

‘Don’t you want to know how Dad is?’ Zoe is very tentative in introducing the elephant to the room.

Thinks: ‘Of course I do, despite everything I’m desperate to hear that he’s missing me and that it’s not working out with that floozy or that he looks awful, is going bald and getting flabby. It’s all I’ve wanted to talk about since you got here.’

Says: ‘How is he?’

With a gulp of wine Zoe sighs.

‘He’s fine, put on a bit of weight with all that baking, but fine. Amanda takes the lead in most things. She’s got him entering this Entrepreneur of the Year competition and even ballroom dancing of all things. She probably takes the lead in that too.’

I smile picturing poor Alan being dragged around a glitter ballroom – serves him right.

‘Their apartment is nice.’ Her voice lowers. ‘But it’s not home...when the house sells, nowhere will be.’

And then it comes: the tears, the hugs, the relief.

We don’t have to pretend any more. I am no longer the professional hostess, the got-it-together divorcee. I’m Mum again and for a moment, Zoe is my little girl. It feels so good as I hold her close and inhale her very being. We eventually let go of each other when the snot threatens to subsume us.

‘I know it’s not much but wherever I am, you have a home. You can move in with me any time, right now if you like,’ I say.

‘I’m assistant manager, I can’t move back in with my mother. Besides, look at you, there’s no way you want me cramping your style. You’ve moved on, I can see that.’

I reassure Zoe that she can move in or stay or squat whenever she wants and promise to buy her some PJs that will always be here ready for her.

She’s staying the night now and as I clear away our dishes, I can’t help wondering just what people want me to do.

When I was a physical wreck, I was told to pull myself together. Now that I’ve camouflaged the broken bits, I’m told that I’ve moved on too much to share a home with. Do I have to fix everyone around me before I’m allowed to fix myself?

Come morning, I despatch my daughter back to work and within ten minutes of saying goodbye to her, Patty appears. I must get a security guard; no wait, that’ll encourage her even more.

‘How was prodigal daughter?’ Patty makes a beeline for the kitchen and helps herself to the cheesecake Zoe brought round. It is common knowledge that Zoe always brings a home-made dessert when she goes anywhere for dinner and I imagine Patty has been camping outside waiting for her to go so that she can get stuck in.

I sigh and let loose.

‘She thinks I don’t need her any more. Apparently, I look as if I’ve got it together and I’ve done all of these new things and...well I’m not old Mum I guess. She was quite upset.’

I pause for a reaction, but her mouth is full so I continue.

‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Fade away into the background in case I offend anyone? Give up, wear sweatpants and appear on Jeremy Kyle? I didn’t ask for this; I wanted to stay married. I can’t go back, I have to move on and I’m doing it the only way I know how – I’m not an expert in “how to be divorced” after all.’

I breathe and wait for the reply. Nothing.

‘Patty. Say something.’

‘Blimey. Just waiting for a gap. Nobody wants you to appear on Jeremy Kyle. We want you to be happy but you’ve got to admit that your transformation from housewife to hotty has been fairly rapid. Zoe isn’t used to thinking of her mum as a woman with a life of her own.’

‘Hotty? Me? That’s ludicrous.’

‘Remember Martin?’ asks Patty.

‘Plumber Martin, the one you wanted to look at your pipes?’

She nods. ‘That’s the one; he asked me out for a drink a few weeks back.’

‘Wow, tell all.’

‘Just before Valentine’s Day. I actually went out on a date for the night, one that didn’t involve you for a change.’

She laughs in despair.

‘I got dolled up, new clothes, underwear – the works. Got there fashionably late thinking, “Look at me in a fancy wine bar with a new man.” Honestly, I was the proverbial cat with the cream.’

‘What happened?’ I ask.

‘He wanted your number.’ She prods me painfully as she says it.

My jaw and then the penny drops.

‘Surely we didn’t fall out over that?’ I ask.

‘I know,’ replies Patty, ‘I was being daft, but I’d plucked up the courage to have my first date in four years, as you kindly reminded me, and all he wanted was your number.’

Patty starts laughing and although I was trying to be sympathetic, I do the same.

‘Anyway, I thought about setting up a new business pimping you out: “Ancient but well-preserved skinny bird available for hire”. I could hand out leaflets on the street or build a website with a link to YouTube – no, on second thoughts your singing would put them off straight away.’

‘Cheeky cow.’

We wipe our tears.

‘So we’re good now?’ I venture.

‘We’re fabulous dahling, always have been.’ She embraces me in a bear hug and gives me a big kiss.

‘Why don’t you come with me next weekend?’ I ask. ‘It’s the book-club trip.’

‘Do I have to read something?’ she asks and I give her a sarcastic look in return.

‘It’s a ghost story, you’ll enjoy it,’ I tell her. ‘We’re taking everyone to a gothic castle. It’ll be nice and spooky.’

‘Well, I always did enjoy having the willies...’ she starts.

‘Stop now,’ I despair.

‘I’ll behave, I promise,’ she smiles. ‘And yes I’d love to come; you probably couldn’t manage without me anyway.’

‘True,’ I surrender. ‘Here’s the book you need.’

I hold out the copy I’ve just finished reading.

‘Is there a DVD I can watch instead?’

I throw the book at her and she catches it before sauntering out.

Having restored two of my closest relationships, I think I deserve some me time. That means a little Murder She Wrote with a bar of Galaxy. I pop to the corner shop and when I get back my new best friend is waiting on the doorstep.

She’s a tortoiseshell with little white paws. She seemed to adopt me a couple of weeks ago and I call her Socks (yes, I know – hardly imaginative) as she doesn’t wear a collar. I don’t think she’s a stray but she’s the only one who doesn’t seem to have an opinion on my state of being, so she’s a very welcome visitor. I invite her in to solve the crime with me and give her some tuna. In return I receive a grateful purr and a snuggle on the sofa.

Girl Power restored.