‘It’s not easy, you know, being a single parent.’
‘Oh, really? Mansplain that to me, please. I’m all ears.’
‘Well… I’m one myself. So I do know a little about it.’
‘But you’re a man.’
‘Of course.’ Aidan slapped his forehead. ‘How could I have forgotten?’
‘It’s not the same as being a single mother. Women don’t make such a meal of it. Society has higher expectations of us – we’ve been expected to just get on with it for centuries, so we’re used to stepping up and getting on with the job. I bet people treat you like a hero just for looking after your own child.’
Aidan had to concede that was true, but he’d always found it ludicrous. ‘Yeah, sometimes. But that’s not my fault. I don’t think of myself as a hero.’
‘And you have your own business and a career that’s full-on. You said yourself you work long hours. So how much parenting do you actually do? And who looks after Bo when you’re working?’
‘We have a nanny. And my family fill in when needed.’
‘Exactly. Women,’ Alva said triumphantly as if he’d proved her point.
‘Well, yeah, my mum and my sisters, sure. But also my brothers and my dad.’
‘And what happened to Bo’s mother?’
‘What do you mean, what happened to her?’ She was making it sound as if he’d done away with her or something.
‘How come you’re bringing your daughter up alone?’
‘She just took off.’
‘Took off?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What made her do that?’ Alva asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
‘She decided she didn’t want to be a mother. She wasn’t suited to it. Those were her words,’ he added as Alva looked poised to argue.
They were interrupted by the waitress coming to clear the table, asking if they wanted dessert. Alva said they’d just take the bill.
‘Look, am I allowed to ask some questions?’ Aidan said, pouring the last of the wine into their glasses.
‘Of course.’ Alva put her pen down and sat back.
‘Well…’ Aidan hesitated, not sure where to start now that he had the floor. ‘So we wouldn’t be in a relationship at all?’
‘No, correct.’
‘Just having sex?’
‘Yes.’
‘And how long would this go on for?’
‘However long it would take for me to conceive. Or until we decide it’s a no-go and give up.’
‘Because of my fried scrote?’ Aidan burst out laughing at the absurdity of the conversation. ‘Sounds like something I should put on the menu.’
Alva’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile. ‘Fried scrote with meatballs and sausage.’
