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Authors: Aimee Alexander
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strand amongst the black. I literally run for the tweezers. I am thirty-three and ageing . Worse: I’m euphoric at the thought of a night out. What is happening to me?
Ian is in no rush to the party. He wants to go for a walk and have a quiet drink first. No argument from me. I, am, out.
‘Any news?’ he asks, as we stroll along the sea front.
I remind him of the hairy arms incident.
We laugh and I think that’s all we need, time alone together. It’s so good to be just the two of us that I don’t care how late we are for the party.
When we do arrive, it’s to a buzz. Connor introduces us to various couples already deep in conversation. He settles on ‘Frances and Simon’ who seem to be experiencing a chat-lull. We exchange ‘heys’.
‘Kim’s a novelist,’ Connor announces. ‘The next Deirdre French, they say.’
I blush.
‘Wow. That’s great,’ Frances says. ‘What kind of novels?’
‘It’s just a hobby.’ I turn to glare at Connor but already he’s slipped away.
‘Murder mystery,’ Ian says with a confidence I don’t feel.
‘Wow! Gosh. I’d love to write.’
‘You should,’ I enthuse, diverting the focus to her.
‘Ah, I’d never have time. I work full-time in the home. Our kids are very small.’
I nod, hoping that Ian is listening.
‘Maybe if I got some support from this guy…’ She points a thumb at her husband then leans in to me, conspiratorially. ‘What is it about men? As soon as you become a full-time mum, they think they can treat you like a full-time slave.’
‘Nice to meet you both,’ Simon says and walks away.
Oh my God, the poor guy. He looks so hurt.
Frances rolls her eyes. ‘Now I’m the bad guy.’
Ian and I exchange a glance.
‘Look at him,’ she continues. ‘Guzzling away, assuming I’ll drive home because I’m breast-feeding.’
Ian starts to move. I tighten my grip. He is not leaving me with her.
‘ Now I know why he encouraged me to breast-feed. Who has to get up in the middle of the night, every time? I’m living proof that sleep-deprivation is torture.’
Ian turns to me and squints. ‘Isn’t that Connor calling us over?’
It isn’t. ‘Think so, yeah. It was so lovely meeting you, Frances.’
‘Oh sure, no problem.’ She sounds disappointed. ‘Good luck with the books.’
‘Thank you.’ The really worrying thing is that I feel her pain. Highway to the Danger Zone.
As soon as we’re out of earshot, Ian stops and turns to me. ‘Promise me you’ll never turn into that.’
‘Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘Sorry. It’s just like my mother all over again. Please don’t become a nag.’
‘I’ll do my best, Ian,’ I say sarcastically.
‘Sorry. She just freaked me out.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘Come on.’ He links my arm like we’re an old couple; this on the day I discovered a grey hair.
Before we can reach Connor, he jumps up on his coffee table and taps the side of his glass with a spoon. The room falls silent.
‘So, thank you all for coming. Great to see everyone I care about here together in one room. Well, this is a going-away party, folks. I’m moving to London.’
‘You haven’t landed that MD job with Excell, have you?’ calls a guy beside me.
Connor’s smile says it all.
There’s a round of applause and some whooping.
‘So I’m standing up here like a tool to remind you all that I’ll be under an hour away by plane. And I have a spare room. A big one. So… come !’ He raises his glass. ‘To continued friendship.’
‘To continued friendship,’ rises a united voice.
He steps down and is surrounded by well-wishers, mostly female.
Ian hands me his glass. ‘Got to take a leak.’
I lower myself onto the arm of Connor’s couch to digest the news. Friend Number Two down. Maybe I should think about tennis.
‘Shove up,’ Connor says.
I move along. ‘I didn’t even know you were job hunting!’
‘I wasn’t. I got head hunted. Poor fools have no idea
Ian is in no rush to the party. He wants to go for a walk and have a quiet drink first. No argument from me. I, am, out.
‘Any news?’ he asks, as we stroll along the sea front.
I remind him of the hairy arms incident.
We laugh and I think that’s all we need, time alone together. It’s so good to be just the two of us that I don’t care how late we are for the party.
When we do arrive, it’s to a buzz. Connor introduces us to various couples already deep in conversation. He settles on ‘Frances and Simon’ who seem to be experiencing a chat-lull. We exchange ‘heys’.
‘Kim’s a novelist,’ Connor announces. ‘The next Deirdre French, they say.’
I blush.
‘Wow. That’s great,’ Frances says. ‘What kind of novels?’
‘It’s just a hobby.’ I turn to glare at Connor but already he’s slipped away.
‘Murder mystery,’ Ian says with a confidence I don’t feel.
‘Wow! Gosh. I’d love to write.’
‘You should,’ I enthuse, diverting the focus to her.
‘Ah, I’d never have time. I work full-time in the home. Our kids are very small.’
I nod, hoping that Ian is listening.
‘Maybe if I got some support from this guy…’ She points a thumb at her husband then leans in to me, conspiratorially. ‘What is it about men? As soon as you become a full-time mum, they think they can treat you like a full-time slave.’
‘Nice to meet you both,’ Simon says and walks away.
Oh my God, the poor guy. He looks so hurt.
Frances rolls her eyes. ‘Now I’m the bad guy.’
Ian and I exchange a glance.
‘Look at him,’ she continues. ‘Guzzling away, assuming I’ll drive home because I’m breast-feeding.’
Ian starts to move. I tighten my grip. He is not leaving me with her.
‘ Now I know why he encouraged me to breast-feed. Who has to get up in the middle of the night, every time? I’m living proof that sleep-deprivation is torture.’
Ian turns to me and squints. ‘Isn’t that Connor calling us over?’
It isn’t. ‘Think so, yeah. It was so lovely meeting you, Frances.’
‘Oh sure, no problem.’ She sounds disappointed. ‘Good luck with the books.’
‘Thank you.’ The really worrying thing is that I feel her pain. Highway to the Danger Zone.
As soon as we’re out of earshot, Ian stops and turns to me. ‘Promise me you’ll never turn into that.’
‘Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘Sorry. It’s just like my mother all over again. Please don’t become a nag.’
‘I’ll do my best, Ian,’ I say sarcastically.
‘Sorry. She just freaked me out.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘Come on.’ He links my arm like we’re an old couple; this on the day I discovered a grey hair.
Before we can reach Connor, he jumps up on his coffee table and taps the side of his glass with a spoon. The room falls silent.
‘So, thank you all for coming. Great to see everyone I care about here together in one room. Well, this is a going-away party, folks. I’m moving to London.’
‘You haven’t landed that MD job with Excell, have you?’ calls a guy beside me.
Connor’s smile says it all.
There’s a round of applause and some whooping.
‘So I’m standing up here like a tool to remind you all that I’ll be under an hour away by plane. And I have a spare room. A big one. So… come !’ He raises his glass. ‘To continued friendship.’
‘To continued friendship,’ rises a united voice.
He steps down and is surrounded by well-wishers, mostly female.
Ian hands me his glass. ‘Got to take a leak.’
I lower myself onto the arm of Connor’s couch to digest the news. Friend Number Two down. Maybe I should think about tennis.
‘Shove up,’ Connor says.
I move along. ‘I didn’t even know you were job hunting!’
‘I wasn’t. I got head hunted. Poor fools have no idea
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