Her eyebrow arches.
‘Well, I’m assuming intelligent given you’ve got a daughter going to university ..’
Her cheeks redden slightly. Is she pleased with the complement? Annoyed? It’s impossible to tell.
‘So, what I’m trying to say, is why not get into the dating game? Or get a dog? Something new. Just for yourself?’
It should be an eminently supportive and helpful suggestion. But apparently it’s not. Her eyes flare.
‘Really? You think I should begin dating do you, Mr Reynolds? Is that why you chased me up the stairs? To come on to me?It wasn’t quite enough for you to grope me in our daughter’s kitchen?’
‘Well. No … I …’
Is it wrong to say she’s not his type? But he’d definitely consider it? She is after all, extremely attractive. Statistically speaking, of course.
Suddenly an awareness dawns on him. Is he standing too close? He can see the rise and fall of her chest, enclosed in the light fabric of her dress, and can feel the heat coming off her body. If he reached his hand out by just a few centimetres, his fingertips could skim her breast. It’s as though she notices at the same time. He takes a step into the corridor; she moves so her back is pressed against her bedroom door. Suddenly the space between them feels vast.
‘Thanks for your suggestions Mr Reynolds, but for your information I’m pretty much done with men. The last couple I’ve had serious relationships with have either rebounded back to their wives when they couldn’t cope with a gripey baby, or dumped me and my daughter in preference for a more fun-filled Covid bubble. So I’m not exactly into the dating game as you call it. You show me a man who doesn’t abandon his woman when the going gets tough, and I’ll show you an illusion.’
Ouch.
Scott’s thighs freeze as heat from his legs is pulled to evaporate the water soaked into his chinos. Her eyes flit to his thighs and he sees her swallow.
‘And as for your once-in-a-lifetime offer of a one-night stand, well I can see that you’re attractive and affluent and good with people, but I doubt the sex would be quite so mind-blowing as to distract me from the void left by my only daughter leaving home. It wouldn’t bethatimpactful. Would it?’
Is now a good time to point out he wasn’t exactly offering her a one-night stand? Or that it could indeed be extremely impactful,as she puts it? Perhaps not. Heather opens the door, slides through the gap and closes it with a bang, leaving him soaked and rather humiliated in the corridor.
The smell of her perfume, something jasminey and light, lingers in the air.
FRESHMAN PARENTS' ONLINE FORUM: ST ANDREWS UNIVERSITY
Anyone else struggling, I mean really struggling, with Empty Nest syndrome? Obviously know all about it in principle but am amazed by how badly I’m affected. Feel constantly bereft. Don’t think my husband knows what to do with me.
Me too. Totally struggling. Got three sets of cutlery out this morning and end up a blubbering wreck over breakfast!
Me too. Know it will get easier once they settle, but still …..
Really struggling as well but this is a new era, right? One where we can focus on ourselves. Glad to hear I’m not alone, though.
You’re right. It’s time to claim back some control. Thanks everyone.
OCTOBER
Chapter 6
HEATHER
Thefloodofsunshinethrough her bedroom window in St Andrews' Hotel du Vin does little to lift Heather’s spirits. The sense of despair lingers like a persistent fug that none of her usual strategies: a bath, yoga, meditation, an early morning walk, can shift. It’s as though this man has looked straight into her soul, imagined her greatest fears and then told her the only solution was to sleep with him.
