Page 17 of In the Same Boat

‘Right,’ I say. ‘One drink.’

‘One drink,’ she echoes, like the saddest toast ever.

We stand there for a moment, both slightly unsure of where to position ourselves or what to do. I probably should have thought of a better plan than simply getting Mum through the door. I need to get her to actually speak to people.

‘Hi,’ a voice says, turning towards us. ‘First time?’

I’m so relieved that it’s a woman, mid-fifties, with a friendly face talking to us.

‘Is it that obvious?’ my mum asks with a smile.

‘Only slightly.’ The woman smiles back at us. ‘I’m Janet.’

‘Chrissy,’ my mum says, relaxing a little. ‘And this is Sammie.’

I brace for the moment where she brings up that I am not in fact over fifty. She doesn’t say a word.

‘Nice to meet you both,’ Janet says. ‘Don’t worry, everyone’s a bit awkward at the start.’

‘That’s good to know,’ I reply. ‘We’d hate to be the only ones.’

Janet laughs.

‘Trust me, women have all the power at these things, the men are like scared little puppies,’ she tells us.

It’s hard to imagine that being a good thing. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t love things the other way, when you’re younger and you go out, and it’s the men who think they have the pick of all the girls. I don’t like that at all. Still though, the thought of everyone being scared and intimidated… ick.

Conversations start to form around the room. Small groups daring to come together, people drifting in and out. Mum and I hang back, waiting – although I’m not sure for what.

‘Evening, ladies,’ a voice interrupts the space between us. ‘Are you enjoying your evening?’

‘We haven’t been here long,’ I reply. ‘But so far so good.’

‘I’ve been here since six,’ he tells us. ‘The early bird gets the worm and all that. Any bites?’

‘Bites?’ Mum replies.

‘Any takers? Any interest?’ he clarifies. ‘A couple of lovely ladies like yourselves – am I seeing a family resemblance?’

He looks back and forth between us.

‘You are,’ Mum says.

‘Sisters?’ he asks.

I open my mouth to protest very loudly but Mum gets in there first.

‘How did you guess?’ Mum says with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.

‘I’ve got an eye for these things,’ he replies. ‘Do either of you work?’

Christ, the dating game is bleak at any age, isn’t it? The same mix of low-key offensive remarks coupled with the most mundane questions.

‘I do,’ I reply, keeping the conversation going for better or worse.

‘What do you do?’ he asks.

‘I’m a water engineer.’