a shirt that I thought might have been designer. He looked so much younger than when we meet at lunchtimes, the tired old shirt and tie, the top button always undone. I’ve always assumed he has ten years at least on me, but now I’m not quite so sure.
The living room was open, with a high ceiling and painted in another one of those terrible contemporary colours that is going to date so badly in a few years. What was this one? Wheat? Cornbread? Double Gloucester?
I was so busy looking at the decor and at the generic artwork on the walls that I didn’t even notice the woman who’d come through from the kitchen, until Vaughn gave a subtle cough and said, in words with a curious inflection that implied adoration, ‘Colin – this is Audrey.’
I turned away from the abstract swirls of chocolate and mocha and held out a hand automatically to shake hers. She took my hand with a smile but also pulled herself up to my height and kissed me on both cheeks, which took me embarrassingly by surprise. I may even have flinched, pulled away a little. I’m so unused to this, this social contact. I felt ashamed to be there. And it was Vaughn, for Christ’s sake, not even anyone of any consequence. I felt my cheeks flush and for a moment I couldn’t bring myself to look at her in case she noticed my discomfort.
It mattered not in any case, for she had disappeared back into the kitchen, having said a few words I’d barely taken in – nice to see you, thank you for coming – nearly ready – dishing up… something of that nature.
‘Have a seat, Colin,’ Vaughn said at last.
Vaughn had leather sofas of the kind that were constantly on sale, presumably replaced by their owners whenever they redecorated. I eased myself down on to the nearest one. I noticed the music for the first time – some contemporary classical piano – was it Alexis Ffrench? Or possibly Einaudi?
‘You alright, mate?’ Vaughn asked. ‘You look a bit – tense.’
‘Ah,’ I said, the first time I think I’d managed to speak. ‘Yes. Got stuck in traffic, you know.’
He didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest by my sudden inability to make conversation, and chatted away regardless about all manner of crap – the state of the economy, his new car, whether or not to add an extension to the back of the property – and all the while I thought about Audrey and wondered what the hell she was doing with Vaughn.
I’d always had the impression that she was older than him, and now I can’t think why. She has smooth dark hair, bright blue eyes in an unlined face. She is petite, and even wearing jeans she seemed elegant, chic. I’ve never really considered the meaning of the word ‘chic’, but to Audrey no better word would apply.
While Vaughn talked, I got up and made my way to the kitchen, without thinking about what I was doing or whether it might be considered rude to walk away from my host while he was trying to engage me in conversation.
I wanted to see Audrey.
I stood in the doorway with my glass of wine, leaning against the doorway in a pose I hoped was casual, open, friendly. She didn’t notice me at first, busy stirring something on the hob. I watched her move.
‘Oh!’ she said at last, when she saw me. ‘It won’t be long.’
I didn’t know what to say to her – the perennial problem – and yet I didn’t want to remain silent.
‘How long have you known Vaughn?’ I asked.
She looked at me in surprise, as though I’d asked her age or weight. What on earth was wrong with that question? Was it too late to take it back?
‘Did he not tell you? I met him last year. We met on an internet dating site.’
‘Really?’ I asked, with genuine surprise. ‘Which one?’
‘Matchmakers,’ she answered.
Of course – that would have to be one of the newer ones, probably one designed for people of a type I would discount as beneath consideration. I prefer ones where the selection criteria include details of educational achievement, career aspirations and salary brackets rather than cock size. Although perhaps that’s where I’ve been going wrong. Maybe I should think about dating sites again; after all, it has been a long while since I dipped my toe into that metaphorical pond. But my needs are a little different, now,