rather successful thus far. Arjun had informed us that he would be doing a few weeks’ work as a life model and we couldn’t resist heading over to see him ‘in action’, so to speak. Luke in particular really seemed to enjoy the night and it was fabulous to see them leave together laughing. Then we sent them on a treasure hunt of Hyde Park – Geoffrey drew an illustrated map for them, must have taken the man days. They went on a picnic. Howard put three bottles of champagne into the basket and even then didn’t think it would be enough.
I have laughed over this summer more than I thought possible: it’s a joy to see them brought closer with each date. Arjun seems a little more himself at the moment so perhaps I was wrong to assume he might be battling some bug or have something on his mind. He claims he does all these extra-curricular things to supplement his pension but we all know it’s to fund the golf trips and the bottles of vitamins. Oh, and Howard benefitted from the Life Art evening as Cindy saw his completed penguins picture and wants to commission him (she says penguins are ‘majestic creatures’ and collects lots of porcelain ones, so many that Howard described sitting in her front room as ‘rather intimidating: eyes everywhere’).
Despite all of these things I have had a few low days recently. I try not to be too melancholy but there are times when I just want to be stubborn, stay in my pyjamas and mourn you. Geoffrey has been very understanding, quietly coming over to sit with me. He brings crosswords and makes tea and doesn’t say a great deal. I’m grateful to him for noticing. He knows grief, of course. It makes me a little ashamed I haven’t asked more about his wife in the past, always assuming it would be too painful or awkward – what a coward I am. He obviously loved her in the same way. We have been so lucky, although you both leave these hideous holes behind.
Still, today I woke and dressed and was able to forget. As you know, I have had to dip my toes into the world of modern dating in a vain attempt to show Lottie I am making an effort to ‘get out there’. She says I am way behind on my side of the bargain and I suppose she is right. I imagine she thinks all my loneliness can be fixed over dinners with a good woman but of course I am not lonely for company, just lonely for you, my darling.
All the same, you’ll be irritated to learn that I have been swapping messages with a woman on Tinder and I actually think you’d rather like her (don’t scoff). She plays golf, although was coy about her handicap, regularly attends the theatre (Twelfth Night is her favourite Shakespeare and I am sure you enjoyed that one too, with the man in the yellow socks, or was that The Tempest?) and she told me that she used to play the clarinet in an orchestra and you always did like woodwind. After a string of back and forward we arranged to meet and today was the big day! My first Tinder date!
I booked a table in a nearby Nando’s establishment because I was informed by the internet that it is a popular venue for the young and I wanted to do this right: date like the youth. Although I did take her a copy of Twelfth Night, which I’m not entirely sure is the done thing nowadays – but it would be wrong to turn up emptyhanded, surely? I have to admit to feeling rather nervous as I sat nursing a half pint of beer, staring at the door. I had forgotten all the dreadful angst in those early days of not knowing someone. It’s appalling. And even though I knew it wasn’t a real date, all those memories of waiting in establishments wondering if they’ll appear came flooding back as if it were fifty years ago and I was still that tongue-tied young man. Thank goodness you saved me from a lifetime of that, my love.
The time ticked by and the waiters started to loiter a little and – there is no other way to tell you this, Cora – she simply didn’t show up. And when I messaged her she didn’t reply, she just left my message in the ether.