Page 48 of Old Girls on Deck

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Should you have told him he was tall and attractive if you were trying to put him off?’

‘Probably not, but it got worse. “I’m not interested in a flirtation or a relationship or anything like it. So, when you say you know exactly what you want, in that rather suggestive, French accent and you give me that look?—”’

‘What look did he give you?’

‘That look, you know what I mean. When his eyes do that twinkly thing. And having said something, I was off on one. Mouth in gear, brain not engaged. “I know you’re suggesting that we might, well, take this to another level. Some sort of fooling about. Shipboard romance or me being taken advantage of. I’m not up for that. I had a very long, happy marriage and I’m not looking for a replacement, however temporary. I’m not a particularly wealthy woman who can be tricked out of money. I did a self-defence class some years ago, run by the Women’s Institute and the local police. And I have a son who is a heavyweight boxer. I’m sorry to disappoint you but I just thought we should be clear with each other.”’

I was puzzled. ‘Sam’s not a heavyweight boxer, is he?’

‘No, of course not. He couldn’t punch his way out of a paper bag. It was just something to say.’

‘And you only went to the first self-defence class, because the second one clashed with something.’

Diana nodded. ‘Eric needed me to look after the baby while Rose went to the spa to have a pamper day.’

‘How much pampering does one woman need? So, what did he say?’

Diana buried her face in her hands and shook her head. I moved over and rubbed her consolingly on the back.

‘I don’t know why you are embarrassed; it sounds to me like you were being honest.’

‘Yes, but then he said, “What I meant was I know exactly what I want. Arancini and then linguini vongole. I, too, am not looking for anything other than a pleasant dinner and a chat.”’

I could feel my face flushing scarlet with embarrassment in sympathy.

‘What was I thinking? What must he think of me?’ Diana wailed.

‘It’s okay,’ I said at last, trying to sound calm. ‘So what did you say?’

‘I said, “I’ll have what you’re having”,’ Diana said, her voice rather squeaky. ‘A real Harry Met Sally moment. I just wanted the floor to open up.’

‘Right. Okay. At least you got the embarrassing bit over with. He’ll have forgotten it by now.’

‘Oh, it got worse, I assure you,’ Diana said.

How much worse could it get? I wondered.

‘So apart from that?’

‘Raphaël ordered some wine. A bottle of Barolo with a splendid-looking red and gold crest on the label. And he said, “Tell me about yourself, Diana.” I mean, what sort of question is that?’

‘Reasonable, harmless,’ I said.

‘Not with me at the microphone. I went on and on about Casper, how my world feels a lot smaller since he died. And how I missed Sam and what a bad mother I had been. And he started talking about his wife. And I asked about his divorce and what French law was like in that situation. And how long it had taken. It was absolutely everything you shouldn’t do.’

I tried to think of something helpful to say.

‘Were the arancini good?’

‘Absolutely lovely, although I couldn’t finish them, which was the one thing I was glad about, otherwise he would have thought I was a pig. And I kept thinking about Sam. And I started talking about him again; how he wasn’t the sort to come home all the time with his dirty washing and some hungry friends like your two did. Sam did all that travelling with just his passport and a few possessions in a rucksack. He hardly ever came home and when he did, he sometimes felt like a stranger. And found myself telling him how angry I have been with Casper, ever since he died. Just as he was about to retire, and perhaps we would have been able to spend more time together, perhaps we would have made a proper relationship with Sam, been a proper family at last. And it never happened. And then the whole thing suddenly got too much for me and – oh Jill – I started crying.’

‘Oh God,’ I said.

‘I know! And not just a little tear trickling attractively down the side of my cheek, but big gulping, honking sobs. And I blew my nose on my napkin, which is disgusting. I swear all the waiters were looking at us and wondering what on earth was going on.’ Diana got up, wiped away her tears and opened the mini fridge. ‘I need a drink.’

She found a brandy miniature, sloshed it into one of the china tooth mugs and took a big gulp.

‘I didn’t know you felt like that,’ I said. ‘Angry, I mean.’