Page 49 of Old Girls on Deck

Diana shook her head. ‘There have been times when I have cursed and shouted and yelled. I’ve been so furious, but it doesn’t get me anywhere. And when I think of Sam – how must it have affected him?’

‘Sam’s always been so independent,’ I said, ‘that’s something a lot of parents would be proud about.’

‘I realised there was nothing I would have liked more than to spend that evening with Sam. Getting to know him again, making up for the opportunities I had missed because for so many years Casper had taken all my focus. And then the blooming linguini arrived. I think they had been holding our order back in the kitchen when they saw the state I was in. And it really was delicious. And had been beautifully arranged in gleaming swirls, with little specks of red pepper flecks and parsley, not just dumped on the plate as I would have done. And they even brought me a clean napkin, so it was obvious they had seen everything. And of course, Raphaël was sitting opposite me, twirling linguini expertly round his fork. While I was stabbing at it, wondering if I would have the nerve to ask for a knife. And then I dropped some in my lap.’

Diana picked up her discarded dress, pointed at an orange stain and made a mournful face.

‘And then the couple at the next table started having one of those hissing arguments, you know when they think they are being discreet, and everyone knows what’s going on and some people had stopped eating and were obviously listening. The man was complaining about the garlic in everything, and his wife said “It’s a bloody Italian restaurant, Peter. You’re the one who wanted to come here.” It was all I could do not to burst out into hysterical laughter, I was so strung up.’

‘So after that, everything was okay? I hope,’ I said.

Diana took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know how I managed to stay there. But I did. And of course, we are always so polite, aren’t we? Women, I mean. I said how much we liked the photographs he had taken of us and he was really kind and he said, “It’s not difficult when the subject is pleasing.” And I said, “You’re doing that thing again.” And he said, “What thing?” So I told him, “You’re being a charming Frenchman.” And he said, “I’m glad you find me charming.”’

‘That’s very smooth,’ I said.

‘And I said, “Stop it. You can be too charming you know. It makes old women like me uneasy.”’

‘He said, “I am not trying to charm you into anything. It’s nice to spend time with interesting people, to take the opportunity for a good conversation.”’

‘And I got on my high horse, you know. A really massive one with stonking great hooves and a big snorty nose. What the hell was I thinking? “Do you do this a lot then? Find women on their own and wine and dine them?” And he just laughed at me and said, “You know what charming French men are supposed to be like. Continually on the lookout”.’

‘Gosh, that doesn’t sound like you at all!’ I said, well impressed.

‘I know! And then, out of nowhere, my heart did a silly little jump. As though some long-dead spark had fired up inside me. It was most unexpected,’ Diana said, taking another sip of her brandy. ‘And then instead of just cutting my losses we went for a night cap. To the Lautrec.’

‘But Evelyn and I were there, I didn’t see you.’

Diana wasn’t really listening. She was sitting hunched over, holding her brandy glass to her cheek.

‘We probably just missed you. He promised not to twinkle at me or be charming.’

‘Oh well, that’s alright then.’

‘When we got there, I asked for a Casper Wedderburn,’ Diana said, ‘on purpose, and I said it all sort of stuffy, “in honour of my husband.” I was drawing a line, putting up a red flag, making a sort of statement. To me and also to Raphaël. He said he would have the same, and he definitely twinkled at me. There should be some law against it. “Salut,” he said, “thank you for a delightful evening.”

‘And then we talked about Barcelona and the Sagrada Familia. And that cocktail was really strong and it made me cough a bit. Perhaps that’s why I did what I did next.’

‘Flipping heck,’ I said, ‘what did you do?’

‘I suddenly had the urge to do something outrageous. To prove to myself that there was still life left in me,’ Diana blurted out. ‘I don’t want to resign myself to the years any more. Just to tread water and wait for things to happen. Which is exactly what I have been doing for most of my life. First being married to Casper and the same since he died. Nothing has changed for me for flipping years. Even on this trip, people keep coming up to me and telling me how marvellous he was, what a great captain, what a splendid fellow. It’s as though I am still in his shadow, always waiting to be told what to do by someone else. Only interesting because of Casper. You’re right. Don’t I deserve more than that?’

It was so unlike my sister to talk like this. I knew her well enough to know she cared desperately what people thought of her. Her behaviour, her appearance, her wifely and parenting skills.

Actually, thinking about it, I wasn’t so different. And yet I could see that I had taken a lot of things for granted as the years had passed. My comfortable life, my house with all its appliances and gadgets. My husband.

I had been described as high-spirited as a child, undisciplined as a teenager. And then I had worked in the passport office, married, and had my sons and I became more sensible and careful. Spending all my time looking after and worrying about other people. My family, my ancient father, an aunt who had gone into a care home near my house when she was ill. Why did either of us need to be sensible and careful any longer? Who were we worrying about? Who were we hoping to impress? Perhaps women my age just accepted that they would become a support network for other people as we aged? Until we get to a place where we hope other people will care for us? Diana was right. We did deserve more than that.

I suddenly wished Eddy was there with me, so we could talk about it, and I could tell him how I felt. We were a retired couple in good health, with a lot of history and memories between us, but surely it wasn’t too late to make more?

I realised Diana had finished her brandy and was rummaging in the minibar for something else.

‘For pity’s sake, tell me what happened next,’ I said.

‘We went for a walk on deck. And he said “You look as though you are going to seek an adventure rather than go to bed”. And I said I could hardly go off on an adventure in this dress and these shoes. Which, by the way, were very uncomfortable; they symbolised everything that was wrong with my life. They were dated, too tight and ridiculous. I told you they were painful. And then I pulled them off and stuffed them in a litter bin.’

I gasped. ‘That must be the daftest thing you’ve ever done.’

Diana pulled a face. ‘Thank you for assuming I’ve peaked. And then I said, “Thanks for a great evening.” And I felt all silly and fluttery inside.’