Page 2 of The Greek Café

I, on the other hand, have never met someone I was prepared to settle with. Three years ago, I thought I finally had, but after two years together, James told me he wasn’t ready to commit, so that was that. In the year since, I have thrown myself into my work and friendships. Oh, there have been a few dates, of course, but no one I have wanted to settle with and I’m fine with that. I am reluctant to put myself through the hurt I am just about getting over.

A lot of my friends work at the leisure centre, and it pains me to think I won’t see them every day. Will I still be included in their nights out, or will they forget about me? I have seen it happen with other ex-employees. I try not to think about it.

I think of all those school children I have taught to swim over the years and allow myself a feeling of pride.

If I close my eyes, I can smell the chlorine and hear the sound of the children’s excited chatter coming from the changing rooms. I always felt such a thrill when the children mastered their fear of the water, delighting in watching them progress from the kid pool to the adult pool. Pity I never possessed such confidence outside of the pool.

‘Or how about a hotel complex? Maybe somewhere abroad?’ Mel pushes her bag of crisps towards me.

‘That’s a thought, I suppose.’ I take a crisp and munch it thoughtfully.

I idly think of my last holiday to Greece and the gorgeous poolside lifeguard who kept all the ladies happy, especially when he led the water aerobics class, which, funnily enough, always had double the number. There are at least a good few months left of the season in Greece, I guess. It would be amazing to work somewhere like that, I think dreamily. And try not to dwell on what I would do after the season ended.

It also happens to be the place I visited with my ex, James. I thought he was going to propose, when nothing could have been further from the truth. I don’t want that experience to sully my memories of such a beautiful place though. Maybe going back and reminding myself of just how stunning it is isn’t such a bad idea. I had always longed to go to Greece and was thrilled when my James suggested Rhodes. It was every bit as pretty as I’d imagined it would be.

‘I’d be off like a shot if I were you – it’s not as if you have any ties here,’ says Mel.

Her comment is meant kindly, I know, but it’s a reminder that no one would really miss me too much if I went away for a few months.

We are enjoying a good catch-up on a rare midweek night out for Mel, as her husband is at home watching a football match with a couple of friends.

‘Fancy another?’ I ask, gesturing to her empty wine glass.

‘Maybe just a small one,’ she says. ‘I’m in the mood now, but I still have packed lunches to make and the school run in the morning.’

‘So, no chance of going on to Pop World?’ I tease.

‘Oh gosh, Pop World. Remember those mad days.’ She giggles.

We used to dance and laugh the night away at that club when we were younger. I have a vague recollection of being pushed home in an abandoned supermarket trolley, which somehow veered into a road. Thank goodness the road was quiet; we got a good ticking-off from a passing police officer, but no charge of being drunk and disorderly, which was a relief. We were given a ride home in the police car, both of us trying to suppress giggles.

And now here I am in my late thirties, alone, and soon to be jobless, while everyone around me seems to have it all sorted. I’d been struggling to wrap my head around how much my life has imploded in this last year, and now this, which really feels like the cherry on top.

What on Earth am I going to do?

TWO

I let myself into my one-bedroom flat that has a view of the canal that flows through the city of Chester.

After quickly changing into my cosy shorts pyjamas, I climb into bed. I flick through the TV channels, despite telling myself I have an early start tomorrow.

I just feel so wired and unsure of what to do with the thought of redundancy looming over me in just two weeks as I have some holidays owed. I settle on a travel show discovering the real Spain and its gastronomic delights in the Andalusia region. Somewhere to visit in the future, I think.

Working at South Side Leisure Centre is all I have ever known, apart from working at my aunt’s café at the weekend when I was a teenager. I did enjoy that and took pride in my sandwiches that were always cut diagonally and presented with a sprinkling of watercress. And I was the one who suggested serving a little biscuit with a coffee. My aunt said she missed me when I took on a full-time job. The customers too, apparently, who often asked about me.

It feels scary to be starting over at my age. If I am honest, I’ve never been very good at learning new skills. I know what I’m good at, and it’s swimming and teaching others how to swim. I have often been told what a good teacher I am. At least I used to be told that. With hindsight, perhaps I ought to have been a little gentler with the older ladies, but they always seemed to enjoy it. Oh, and my other skill is that I can complete a Rubik’s Cube in sixty seconds, but that is hardly going to get me a job.

Not for the first time, I think of how life can change in the blink of an eye. It’s hard to believe that just over a year ago I was anticipating a future with my ex, before he got cold feet and disappeared. Then, six months ago, my dad died from a sudden heart attack.

The grief is still so raw, and I’ve felt like my life’s been spiralling, with everything that’s been familiar to me suddenly gone. Apart from my job. My anchor. And now, soon enough, that will be no more too.

Going to visit Mum hasn’t felt the same, with my dad no longer there. She’s recently met a new bloke – (purely as a friend) at a pensioners’ lunch club. At least Douglas has never sat in Dad’s favourite wing-backed chair when he’s visited. Mum gave it to me when I asked her for it, and she now has a new one in its place. I often sit in the old grey fabric chair and think of Dad. I can imagine him smiling and telling me I did the right thing in rescuing it, as he didn’t want some other bugger sitting in it.

I’m happy for Mum, but between her bowls club, lunches out with her friends and trips to the seaside with Douglas, I rarely get to see her. When we do have catch-ups, I realise how boring my life is in comparison to hers, which I am sure can’t be quite right.

‘We are all going to Wales on a coach soon,’ she told me on our last meet-up. We, meaning her bowls club friends. ‘We are going to Zip World at Penrhyn Quarry, that has the largest zip slide in Wales,’ she told me over her buttered scone that she slathered with strawberry jam.

‘Isn’t that a bit dangerous?’ I asked a little anxiously.