by J.A. Skinner
Chapter 11
Thursday 15th May
You may also lose the ability to organise yourself and do more than one task at once. In the later stages of the disease, you may have memory loss and be less able to understand speech.
It’s really hard for me to believe I’m going out on a genuine date tonight. I don’t have much experience. Charlie was my first boyfriend and I married him and since we separated I haven’t had a proper date. Meeting an old school friend Mike in the pub last New Year, and having a snog at the bells doesn’t really register very high on the romance scales. Nor does the odd lapse with Charlie for old time’s sake, but the least said about those times the better.
A Steve Harley concert is exciting enough, without going with Tommy no name as well. I’ve brushed my teeth twice and changed outfits three times. If Tommy turns up more dressed-up than me, I can always change again. John is very curious about me going out ‘with friends’ and keeps asking me who I am meeting and when will I be home. He’s getting to sound like my Mother used to when I was getting dressed and putting on my makeup to go and meet Charlie all those years ago.
With Charlie and me it was a big game, with the added excitement of forbidden sex. We girls were still expected to be virgins till we married. The sixties free love revolution didn’t really come as far north as Scotland. Charlie and I behaved like naughty kids really, and I can understand now why Mam warned and nagged me so much. Charlie was such a bad boy, but surely, somewhere in her heart she must have understood the attraction.
It’s so long since I’ve had a night out with a man I’m not quite sure what’ll be expected of me. Do I pay half? Do I invite him in for coffee? Is snogging a bit old fashioned? Why worry, what happens will happen, it’s only a date but I think I could really like this guy, which must be the reason for the compulsive teeth brushing. When Kate arrives the kids are all clean and settled in pyjamas, watching telly and not far from their bed time, an easy shift for her. We stay in the kitchen to chat.
‘Okay Mags, where are you going? Who with? By the look of you all dressed up and with mascara on it’s a man,’ she says with a knowing smile, ‘I told you there was a silly look on your face, I knew you were up to something.’
‘It’s a man all right and somebody you know,’ she is really intrigued,
‘Who? Quick tell me.’
‘Social worker Tommy,’ I reply, and her mouth drops open.
‘Mags he’s really nice, smart, polite, and clever, is he not married?’ she asks, ‘at his age he must have a background.’
‘Of course he’ll have a background, everyone has, I’ll just need to try and find it out, but it’s only one night out, it might come to nothing.’ I say this with my fingers crossed behind my back. I suspect she thinks he is a bit too respectable for me.
Now its midnight, I’m snug and comfy in my bed, alone with a cup of tea, how good do I feel? On a scale of one to ten, I would have to say nine and a half. I realise now that I have never spent so many hours just talking to a nice man and having such a good time. When he came to pick me up there was a bit of fussing with locking and unlocking the car, but no briefcase to struggle with this time. Kate loved the fact that he could even look nervous, as he was always so professionally cool and confident with her. We were giggling as I left the house to meet him. I didn’t let him in, as the less the kids know at this stage, the better.
We got a few things out of the way on the journey to Glasgow, he couldn’t discuss Kate and the adoption and he couldn’t help me professionally if we were having a date, as he wasn’t allowed to date clients. Fair enough, at least he considers this is a date.
The concert was in Glasgow City Halls, Steve Harley was fantastic, although losing his hair a bit now, he still managed to sing all the oldies as if they were new. We went for a drink afterwards to a super trendy pub in Candleriggs where most people were drinking fizzy water and we couldn’t get a seat on any of the plastic uncomfortable looking furniture. Tommy seemed to be very uncomfortable too and suggested we go somewhere else. We wandered up to George Square and went into the Counting House. It looked a bit trendy too, but we found a quiet corner with a two-seater couch and some small candles on the table in front of it. Tommy got some drinks and an ashtray, bless him, I wouldn’t smoke in his car and the City Hall was ‘smoke free’ so I was getting a bit desperate, although I swear I’m not an addict.
He sat very close to me on the small couch, and I almost felt faint at the touch of his arm on mine and his thigh casually leaning on my leg. He felt warm and solid. I twisted slightly towards him to see if I could read the expressions on his face. He looked calm and happy, and was chatting about some funny things that had happened at work and about his half crazy Chinese manager.
He was completely oblivious to the fact that I was feeling electric shocks from his leg to mine and was getting a bit breathless. We chatted for about an hour. Suddenly he stopped talking and took my hand in both of his,
‘Are you all right,’ he said ‘you look a bit flushed.’
Flushed! I felt sweat at the back of my neck like a fever, what on earth was wrong with me. He was only holding my hand and I was reacting like a silly schoolgirl. What would I be like if he kissed me? Probably full cardiac arrest!
‘I’m fine really, but it’s maybe a bit hot in here,’ I said in a remarkably normal voice, ‘and I should really be getting home soon, Kate has her work in the morning.’
By the time we finished our drinks and walked to the car I had cooled down. Tommy held onto my hand the whole time. When we got in the car he leaned over in the dark and very slowly, very tentatively kissed me.
No, I didn’t faint, or have a heart attack, but my heart pounded hard enough to shake the front of my jumper. It was lovely. We kissed again and he awkwardly put his arms around me. It made me feel so safe and sexy, and then he started to giggle, which ruined the kiss and concentration quite a bit.
‘Tommy this is not supposed to be funny’
‘Sorry, sorry, Mags, but if you only knew how many times I wanted to kiss you, and all the times I thought about it, and how I feel like a teenager when we actually do it you would find it funny too.’
I liked the sound of that and we started again. This was more adult stuff now. Tommy was holding me as close as he possibly could by twisting round in his seat and I could feel his legs jerking around trying to get comfortable. We started laughing again, loud enough for the car park attendant to hear and start to walk over to investigate. We realised this wasn’t going any further in the confines of the car but it was a nice start.
He dropped me off and said he’d phone.
We’ll see.