Polly James - Would Like to Meet

* * *

“Bloody hell, Pearl,” I say, when she shows the last guest out, then joins me in the kitchen, where I’ve been hiding from Fiddling Fred for the last half-hour. “That Fred’s a creep, but I like your other new friends. You’ve made so many here, already!”

“You can’t waste time when you get to my age,” says Pearl. “Or yours, for that matter. You look terrible – what’s up?”

I’ve lost my bottle while I’ve been waiting to spill the beans and now I can’t go through with it. Telling people what’s happened makes it all seem far too real.

“Nothing much,” I say, swilling out a cocktail shaker and putting it aside to drain.

Pearl raises her eyebrows and says, “You’ve always been a poor liar, ever since you were a child, so leave the washing up and try again. And this time, make it the whole truth and nothing but.”

I do as I’m told, though I don’t mention that Dan said he doesn’t fancy me any more. That would be too humiliating, so I just say we had an argument about a television programme that turned into something much, much worse.

“Good God,” says Pearl, when I’ve finished. “Are you sure about this, Hannah? It’s no fun being on your own, you know. Why d’you think I agreed to move in here? This place has a better ratio of men to women than every other retirement place I looked at, which is not a lucky coincidence. I did my research, because I’m sick and tired of being alone after the last few years.”

So that’s why Pearl was doing sit-ups when I came round the other day – she’s on the pull, when I thought I was too old to find someone new!

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I mean, I am fine. I won’t be on my own forever, after all.”

I try to conjure up an image of my fantasy Mr Suave, as Pearl looks me up and down, but he won’t appear. I just keep seeing Dan’s face instead, and Pearl clearly isn’t too impressed with what she sees when she looks at me, given how worried she’s now become.

“What?” I say. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m miles younger than you and you’re not planning on remaining single, so why should I?”

“No reason,” says Pearl. “I just think you two splitting up is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. And who is this colleague Dan’s moving in with, anyway – do you know?”

Why do people keep asking that? I don’t know any of Dan’s colleagues, not least because he usually refuses to go to any of the few social events to which staff are allowed to bring their partners. He claims that’s because I have an even lower boredom threshold than he does, so I’d probably say something to get him sacked – but now Pearl’s implying that might not be the only reason, just like Esther did when I mentioned it to her the other day at work.

“I don’t know,” I say, “but that’s not the biggest problem, is it? Dan swears he isn’t leaving me for another woman, but he’ll find one at some point, once he’s living the single life.”

That thought makes me feel sick, which must show on my face, as Pearl decides the time has come for some distraction.

“Let’s go for a walk while we give this further thought,” she says. “I want to show you the gardens here. The residents can help in them, if they’re up to it, so I’m thinking of signing up myself. It’ll keep me fit, all that physical activity in the fresh air.”

* * *

Although it’s dark, the gardens are illuminated and exceptionally beautiful, even now in what’s still winter, and for the first time in years, I wish I’d brought a sketchbook with me. There’s nothing very artistic in designing stupid icons, but I’d love to draw the view from where we’re standing. It’s on the top of a steepish incline (which Pearl climbed a lot faster than me), and it overlooks a large area of dense, glossy greenery, that eventually gives way to a meandering path that leads to the Elysium building itself. The silver bark of the birch trees lining the path sparkles where the lights hit it, and the effect is spectacular. Abandon Hope, my arse.

“What are these?” I say, pointing at some tiny, glossy-leaved plants peeking out through a mass of dead foliage.

“Violas,” says Pearl, pointing her torch at them. “You can take one with you, if you like? Gardening’s good for the soul and the staff won’t notice. They rarely bother with this section.”

If gardening’s good for the soul, I’ll try it, and I might even draw the viola once it blooms, if I can persuade Dan to get my art materials out of the attic before he moves out – and maybe I’ll come back and sketch this landscape in the daytime, too.

Pearl pulls a tiny trowel out of one pocket, and a plastic bag from another, and then she digs up the plant and dumps it into the bag.

“Did I mention violas are also known as ‘heart’s-ease’, Hannah?” she says, handing me the bag. “On which note, why don’t you get off home now, while Dan’s still living there? You could always try talking to him about staying, instead of wasting time discussing what you’ll do without him once he’s gone.”

Even though I take Pearl’s advice and drive straight home, Dan’s already asleep on the sofa by the time I get there, and I’m still dithering about whether to wake him up and talk to him about being my soulmate, when Joel turns up. He’s barefoot, and carrying his trainers in one hand.

“You okay, Mum?” he asks, after peering into the living room and spotting the snoring Dan. “I’m sure you guys could get this sorted out if you still wanted to. You don’t have to split up over something so stupid, you know.”

For one wonderful moment I think he may be right, until I recall that Dan doesn’t fancy me any more, and that he seemed pretty definite about moving in with that colleague of his.

“I don’t think I’ve got any choice, Joel,” I say. “Your dad seems determined it’s going to happen, and anyway, who knows? Maybe he’s right, and we’ll both be happier once we’re single.”

“You won’t be happier if everyone starts treating you like that bloody pair of idiots up the road just did, once you are,” says Joel. “I can’t believe they uninvited you from that dinner party just because you’d have been going on your own. Talking of which, that reminds me. Come outside.”

It’s pitch dark and freezing cold by now, so I try to refuse, but Joel insists.

“Put your coat on,” he says, “if you’re as cold as that. It won’t take a minute and it’ll be worth it, I promise. It might even make you laugh.”

I seriously doubt that, though I change my mind when Joel walks me along the road to the place where Claire has parked her car.

“ Ta-da! ” he says, gesturing at the windscreen, or more specifically, at the windscreen wipers. Each now carries a succinct message – from a sock.

* * *

I still think that Joel’s anonymous message to Theo and Claire was so funny that I tell Dan about it when I get up this morning and find him in the kitchen, drinking coffee, but he doesn’t laugh at all. He just gives me a wan, half-hearted smile, and then makes polite conversation about nothing until the time comes for me to leave.

“Shouldn’t you have left already, if you’re not going to be late for work?” I say to him as I pull on my boots, then start to button up my coat.

He shrugs, then says, “I’ve got a few things to do before I go.”

He looks at me with a really weird expression – and for what feels like a very long time – and it’s as if he’s trying to convey something desperately important, though he doesn’t say a word. I’m going to be late myself, if I don’t leave now, but I’m not comfortable going while he’s looking at me like this.