Page 5 of The Golden Girls’ Road Trip

We slipped into a sort of friendship that somehow worked, which for a while was enough for Leo, but then, this Easter, as we walked along the promenade on Eastbourne seafront, he’d manoeuvred himself with one knee down to the ground. I thought he was tying his shoelace, but the beautiful emerald ring suddenly appeared and much to the delight of passers-by, he proposed and I said yes.

It’s time to settle down, I’d told myself. The right man at just the right time, Simon had said and perhaps he already knew about the baby and maybe he was hinting. And maybe I could finally shake off that overwhelming guilt I’d dragged around with me for the last fifty-odd years. Could Leo be my clean slate? With a little time, I imagined that we would become closer, that the physical side of our relationship would reignite, that we might use the word love to one another. It didn’t occur to me, for some reason, that those things should really have been in place before a proposal, and certainly before an acceptance.

‘Sorry,’ he says now, looking at the screen. ‘I’ve got to take this.’ He slips out of his seat and also out of the restaurant. I watch him pacing and talking through the window. I wonder if he’s talking to his daughter, Fiona, the woman I have yet to meet.

‘How are the wedding plans going?’ Simon asks as he tucks into his steak. ‘Only two months to go; you must be all set.’

‘Pretty much,’ I say. ‘Still have to choose things like the wine and I haven’t sorted the cake or the flowers yet.’

‘Chop, chop, Connie, you probably should have done this already,’ says Diana. ‘What about your flat? Are you going to sell up and move into Leo’s place in Pevensey Bay, or buy something together?’

‘Not sure yet, lots to think about,’ I say dismissively. In truth, Leo says he wants me to move in with him, but I don’t really like his bungalow. It’s a little claustrophobic, and his wife is everywhere.

‘Are you getting cold feet?’ Diana asks, just as Leo appears back at the table.

‘No, of course not,’ I say quickly. ‘Everything okay, Leo?’

‘No, not really. I’m so sorry, Connie, I’m going to have to go. Fiona’s husband has left her. She’s distraught and, you know, not having her mother, it’s all a bit too much for her.’ Despite what he’s saying, there’s an excited edge to his voice, although I can’t see why he’d be thrilled about a family break-up.

‘Sit down for minute.’ I get up and take his hand. ‘You’re not thinking of driving to Peterborough now, are you?’

‘I have to; Fiona needs me. I’m going to help her in the café for a few days. Sorry, love.’ He pulls his jacket from the back of his chair and slings it over his arm.

‘I’ll come with you,’ I say, but Leo shakes his head.

‘No,’ he says quickly. ‘I don’t want to spoil your birthday meal.’

It’s probably for the best; these might not be ideal circumstances to meet my future daughter-in-law. I have tried to orchestrate a get-together, but Leo says she’s a sensitive girl who misses her mother. She isn’t actually a girl – I’m pretty sure she’s in her late thirties – but I understand what he means. I’ve held back and let Leo and his daughter dictate the pace, but this now feels like a mistake. I should have insisted on a meeting and we could be going together to offer comfort and practical help. Fiona and Paul opened the café together, so it won’t be just the marriage he’s left, it will be the business too.

‘I’ll phone you later,’ Leo says. ‘Enjoy the Champagne and don’t let this spoil your evening.’ He kisses my forehead as if I’m a child and then after tucking a handful of notes under Simon’s side plate to cover the bill, he practically skips out of the restaurant.

3

My phone rings at eight and I grapple for it on the bedside table as my brain registers I’m no longer in my dream state. Leo’s name is flashing on the screen and I swipe to answer. I sat up until gone one, last night, in case he called, but he didn’t, and now I wipe the sleep from my eyes and the memory of an intoxicating dream from my mind. I don’t seem to be able to get that Katie Fforde book out of my head.

‘Leo! How’s it going, how’s Fiona?’

‘It’s not good. Paul has gone off with a woman who lives over the road from them. Turns out he does actually want to have children, because she’s pregnant. Bloody fool, I could throttle him. And now Fiona is saying that she would have liked to have had children but went along with Paul’s wish for it to be just the two of them.’

‘Oh, poor girl,’ I say. ‘But, you know, perhaps she could still have a child if she’s quick.’

‘If she’s quick! It takes time to find the person you want to be with, Connie, and Fiona is thirty-nine.’

‘I was thinking more about a sperm donor actually,’ I say and hear Leo choke on the end of the line.

‘That’s not the way we do things in this family,’ he says indignantly, and I’m not sure if it’s a reprimand of my lack of morals or a reminder that I’m not part of the family; not yet anyway. He has an edge to his voice that I haven’t really heard before.

‘Just a thought,’ I say, quietly.

‘Well, she’s really feeling the loss of Brenda right now – nothing quite like a mother’s hug.’

My mind slips briefly to my own mother and to what Diana had said last night about our lack of communication. It’s always there hovering over me despite my attempts to rid myself of thoughts of Elizabeth Fitzgerald.

‘They had a rock-solid marriage, no problems at all and then this, out of the blue, bam!’

‘I could get in the van right now and be with you in a couple of hours. Perhaps she’d accept a hug from me?’

‘No, Connie, she wouldn’t,’ he says and I try not to hear the scathing tone in his voice. ‘It’s kind of you to offer,’ he adds, ‘but I think she’s happy with it just being me here.’ His voice is softer now, but the message is clear. I’m not wanted.