she’d have to be to be showing. ‘She might just like that kind of dress.’ How big is this bump? How long has she been bloody pregnant? He’s not only found himself, and a wife, he’s found fatherhood. But in which order did all this discovery happen?
I think I need gin. A bottle of it.
‘Hmm.’ That’s my mother’s version of saying she’s not convinced. ‘Are you okay, darling? It must be a shock.’
‘Of course, I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m fine, fine! Absolutely fine.’ I think I’m beginning to sound fine in a slightly hysterical way. ‘Why would I be bothered? I am over him, totally over him, we split ages ago!’
‘It wasn’t that long, Rosie. And you had been going out for a long time. I mean, I know he wasn’t the one for you, but it’s not easy to go out there and date when—’
‘It’s perfectly easy! No problem. It was so easy I’ve found a new man, a much better man than Robbie!’ Fuck! What have I said? I haven’t got a boyfriend. All I have is … I bite my bottom lip, all I have is Noah. A man who told me he’d show me how to get a boyfriend. Just how quickly is it possible to learn? Does he run a fast-track course?
Shit. She’ll tell Dad.
‘Oh Rosie, why didn’t you say?’
I try and concentrate on what she is saying and try not to think about Noah. And his totally whacky idea. Talk about clutching at straws, I can’t seriously be even considering …
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. It will be so nice to meet him, and you can bring him to the party!’
I am considering it. The whacky idea. Because how am I going to get out of this one? Mum, despite her own crap-fest of a marriage, is convinced I’ll only be happy if I’m part of a couple. And now I’ve told her I am. And when she tells Dad, I will never hear the end of it if I don’t actually turn up arm in arm with somebody.
Great.
‘Oh, I am so, so pleased. I didn’t like to say, but I was worried, Rosie. You do spend all your time with your nose buried in a book.’
‘I work in a bookshop, Mum!’
‘I know, darling. But you do need to get out if you want to meet people. I’m so excited, you’ve got to tell me how you met him! Where was it? What did he say?’
There must be a way out of this. I only said I had a boyfriend so that she’d stop thinking I hadn’t got over Robbie. And now this.
Like Dad says, I really should think before I open my mouth. He’ll think it’s hilarious if he realises that I’ve sunk to this, inventing a boyfriend. I’ll never hear the last of it. It will become his new party piece, as yet again I prove I am not the perfect daughter. Our Rosie still has invisible friends, even though she’s over thirty, invisible boyfriends, haha, wink wink …
‘It’s not serious yet, Mum, not about to get married, haha! I’ve only just started seeing him, not sure he’s ready for the whole meet my family thing!’ Dad doesn’t even need to hear about it. I’ll tell her not to tell him.
‘Oh, that doesn’t matter he’s still welcome, even if he is just a casual fling! And who knows, by the time we get to the party day you might be ready to do a Robbie!’
Great. We have now coined a new phrase. To do a Robbie. Which I presume means to get married in haste and procreate as quickly as possible, preferably with sheep in attendance.
‘Maybe not! I’m not sure he wants to move to Wales!’ Now she’s expecting me to be part of a proper lovey-dovey couple and she’ll be disappointed if I’m not. I need to temper her expectations. I don’t like disappointing her, she has enough of that in her life. I think she’s invested all her hopes for happy-ever-afters in me. Her only daughter. So far it isn’t going well.
In fact, it’s going considerably worse than even she expects.
How the fuck do I get a boyfriend before the party? I can’t even manage a first bloody date. And yes, I do know I’m swearing a lot. It’s a reaction to finding myself in a hole that I seem hell-bent on digging even deeper.
So, my fun morning with Bea has been kicked into touch