She sighed. ‘I know I shouldn’t dwell on it,’ she said. ‘And goodness, I’ve had some bad dates already but it’s just that he seemed nice. He seemed like my kind of person. And there was really no indication that he’d do something like this. He’s the one who’s done all the running. He booked the table, he’s been the one messaging.’ She looked down at her hands and her voice went very quiet. ‘I can’t help worrying that maybe hedidturn up, took one look at me and decided to leave.’
‘Oh, Mum!’ I took her hand. ‘I’m sure that’s not the case! I’m sure you looked lovely. If anything, maybe that was it? Maybe you looked so fabulous he was intimidated and realised he was punching way above his weight?’
She smiled although her eyes were glassy. ‘I think you’re reaching there, darling,’ she said.
‘Well. It’s possible,’ I said. ‘And I’d say it’s more likely than the scenario you’ve suggested.’
She pulled a perfectly folded cotton handkerchief out of her cardigan pocket and dabbed her eyes. ‘It was just so embarrassing,’ she said crossly. ‘There I was, sitting in the restaurant thathe’dbooked. I got there bang on time and just waited, and waited, and waited. It was mortifying, Harriet. Every time the front doors opened there was a terrible blast of cold air and I would think, here he is, and I’d turn my head just to glance around, trying to beoh so casual, and it would be some young couple arriving and I’d smile as if this was all completely normal and turn back to my menu and study it again as if I hadn’t already memorised the whole thing. I could see the waiting staff staring at me as I tried to make my drink last for an hour and they kept coming and asking if I wanted to order, and I had to keep saying no, I’d rather wait until the other member of my party arrived, and they were looking at me as if to say,He’s clearly not arriving though is he madam, and that’s becauseyou’re an old lady and why would anybody want to take you out to dinner?’
‘Oh, Mum,’ I said. ‘I’m sure they weren’t thinking that.’
‘They were, Harriet. I could tell!’ She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘And eventually of course I had to prove them right and ask for the bill for my solitary gin and tonic, and I told the girl serving me that the gentleman I was meeting had messaged to say that he had been held up by some terrible emergency, and she just gave me a pitying look. And I know she didn’t believe me.’
‘But are you sure he wasn’t held up by some emergency?’ I said. ‘Maybe there is a legitimate reason that he couldn’t make it.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I messaged him on the app this morning and he’s blocked me. After weeks of lovely little messages, all this sweet, considerate chat. Turns out he’s just been breadcrumbing.’
‘Is that not ghosting?’ I said, confused.
‘No,’ she said sadly. ‘Breadcrumbing is where they have no intention of taking it further but they like the attention, so they throw you breadcrumbs, string you along with little messages, whereas ghosting is where they just stop all communication for no discernible reason. So, I guess he is ghosting me now on the back of the breadcrumbing. Maybe I’ve been catfished, breadcrumbedandghosted.’
‘Sounds like something they might serve at The Braised Fig, that restaurant Layla and I went to with Rich,’ I said. ‘Breadcrumbed and lightly ghosted Meredith, absolutely delicious with a glass of Sancerre.’
‘I’m not quite at the jokey stage yet, darling.’
‘Are you sure?’ I said. ‘Because you’ve definitely told me in the past that the only way to get through the trials and tribulations of life is to laugh at them.’
She sniffed. ‘I may have said that on occasion.’
‘And what are the options here?’ I counted them off on my fingers. ‘One, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding, he forgot about the date and then accidentally blocked you – in which case he’s not very well organised and probably a bit of a flaky nightmare. Two, he’s met someone else in the meantime who he really likes and he wanted to do the right thing but wasn’t sure how to let you down without hurting your feelings so he’s taken the cowardly way out and blocked you to avoid further temptation – in which case, he’s weak and unreliable. Three, he’s a conman. Four, he’s an obnoxious prick…’
‘Harriet! Language!’
‘Four,’ I said again. ‘He’s an obnoxiousnarcissistwho still can’t commit to a mutually respectful and grown-up relationship despite his advancing years, who gets his kicks out of stringing people along. Either way you are, as Layla would say,well rid.’
She appeared to consider this for a moment. ‘I suppose you’re probably right,’ she said, draining the last of her tea. ‘And the most likely conclusion is that he is, as you said, an obnoxious prick.’
‘Atta girl,’ I said, coming around to her side of the table and putting my arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry.’
‘And one day we’ll look back on this and laugh?’ She smiled at me.
‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,’ I said.
‘There’s plenty more fish in the sea, after all.’
‘And a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.’
And so the exchange of platitudes continued until Joe came home and I apologised for the slightly overdone chicken. To which he responded, ‘Don’t talk about your mother like that,’ and we all had a good old laugh.
Chapter Eighteen
Despite being a bit weirded out by comforting my mother about her love life in a very similar way to that which I had done in the past with Layla, it was nice to spend Sunday with her. She stayed for lunch, which meant I didn’t feel obliged to consume an extra-large portion due to my obsession with not wasting food now we were a family of two, and although the moment of her vulnerability had been brief there was something nice about feeling needed. I can’t deny that the fact she’d come to me for support rather than Richard made me feel a bit smug too. Even though I’m sure Mum wouldn’t routinely discuss her romantic entanglements with her only son, he is the default authority on all other matters and in the past, she has sought his opinion on a whole range of topics from global politics to car maintenance to musical trivia. She always cites his answers as concrete facts – ‘Richard says I should be switching energy providers; Richard says there are too many bureaucrats in the NHS; Richard says you need a soft rind cheese with that Bordeaux’ – despite him having no specific expertise in whichever subject is up for discussion. As many women have muttered over the years,oh, to have the confidence of a mediocre white man.
I wonder whether my brother, as an authority on all things, suffers from being in a relationship with a demonstrably alpha woman, or whether he finds it a relief to just have Jaqueline tell him what to do. It’s an odd marriage, and she’s not the type of wife I would have pictured him with, but it seems to work and everyone’s happy – if not hugely relaxed – as demonstrated this evening when they dropped the boys here for their free childcare.
Hugo and Lawrence solemnly wheeled their Louis Vuitton suitcases across the drive and Hugo announced that he was ‘extremely grateful’ to me and Uncle Joe for having them to stay and that he and Lawrence were ‘extremely looking forward to it’.
‘Excellent,’ I said, bending to hug them both. ‘Me too. Why don’t you take your bags upstairs with Uncle Joe and see if the cats are snuggled up on your beds yet?’
