Page 44 of When We Are Old

I mean, we’d only been official for a week.

I sat down on the kitchen chair. Why did everything with me and him have to be so confusing. Why couldn’t we stay at kissing on walls and holding hands forever.

The last thing I wanted was Matthew feeling pressured into jumping into accepting us. Probably best for his divorce to come through before I moved my daughter and I to his hometown…

Teenagers

Ronnie

“Is it wrong I’m really worried about what’s going on at the house?” I glanced nervously through the pub window. Matthew and I had walked to the Duke's Head, which under any other circumstances would have been wonderful, cosy and romantic. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“She seems pretty sensible to me.” Matthew took a sip of his pint. There wasn’t a thing he did that wasn’t sexy. Even drinking. I wanted to crawl into his lap and curl up and purr my contentment.

“You’ve only seen her three times and you’ve been lucky enough to be granted best behaviour.” I shook my head. “Just this the other week she got suspended for graffitiing the walls of the school with ‘Boys are Wankers'. I used my fingers to air quote.

“To be honest, Ron, at that age they are.”

“I think it’s this triangle she’s got going on with Annabelle and that boy.”

“That boy?” He smirked over the edge of his glass and I dropped my head into my hands.

“I sound like my mother. I’m doomed.”

“Who sounds like their mother?” Matthew and I both startled at the voice next to our table.

“Ange?”

She pulled out a chair. Her cheeks were pink, but she held her body straight. “Did you think I’d miss my goddaughter’s birthday? I went to the house, but she said you were here.”

“But…” I glanced at Matthew whose lips pressed into a firm line.

“Oh, stop sucking lemons, Matthew. I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve cocked up, but I’m sorry.” She stared at him.

Matthew let out a small sigh and I tried to think of anything I could say to my best friend.

Coming up blank, and not wanting to unleash a can of ‘awkward worms’ in the middle of the pub, I asked, “What was happening at the house?”

Matthew’s stare on my face became a little more direct.

“Oh nothing. Lots of giggling—that’s how I knew you weren’t there.” Matthew tutted and she turned her darting gaze onto him. “Shall we clear the air so Matthew can stop tutting and huffing like a bull in a ring?”

“Ange, it’s not that straightforward. You lied, a lot.”

Her bright red lips puckered together, but she lifted her hands, palms up. “Okay. If Matthew here can tell us one hundred percent that if I’d told him you were interested in him he’d have acted on it, I’ll leave you two alone and walk out the door now.”

“Ange! Come on. Don’t be so dramatic.” I stared at her, my heart thumping a little too fast. She wasn’t for real, was she?

“No, I mean it. If I’m the bad guy, let’s have it all out. Matthew?” She turned for him. “If I’d told you back at uni that Ronnie was wildly and depressingly in love with you, would you have done anything about it?”

“Ange! You don’t know what was going on. It’s not that straightforward. There were other things going on in the background. His dad wasn’t well, it was a difficult time.”

Ange shook her head at me slowly. “You are so blind when it comes to him.”

“Angela.” His shout made me jump five inches out of my seat and I ducked my head down when other drinkers in cosy corners glanced over at us. “That’s enough. But fine, we accept your apology.”

I’m sorry. We what?

She sniggered. “We now are we?”