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‘Ooh, me as well. What a treat.’ He grinned at her. ‘Boddy’s and beef and a big, fat pudding to follow. What a cracking night.’
When Morton wasn’t clowning around trying to cover up an inferiority complex, he was surprisingly good company. Shay realised he must have been trying to compete with Bruce’s smoothness every time they were in each other’s proximity, especially if his wife was forever comparing them, and he’d been coming off worse. What was clear, as they talked, was how much he loved his son and how hurt he’d been by Les’s betrayal, but he still couldn’t bring himself to rubbish her.
‘I thought I’d take her back, you know, if she wanted. Right up till recently. I missed her so much. Then you start to question what it is you actually miss. It wasn’t the company because she didn’t talk to me that much, and I was on edge if we went out anywhere because she didn’t want meto embarrass her by doing anything like… breathe. I just want someone to take care of, Shay. And to have sex with obviously, I miss that.’
‘Don’t say that on a first date, though,’ said Shay. ‘Or swear profusely or try and impress anyone with how many seconds you can draw out a burp. And no references to farting, however funny your story might be. Save that for when you’re on more familiar terms.’
‘I need to change, don’t I?’ Morton sighed.
‘No, you don’t. You just need to let your personality shine through.’
‘Do I even have one?’ asked Morton.
‘You absolutely do and I wish you the best of luck in your dating adventure.’ Shay raised her wine glass and Morton raised his pint glass and they chinked. And at that very moment, into Shay’s eyeline drifted two people being shown to their table. She, hair down to her waist, her once 32A chest now right at the other end of the alphabet, expensive dress, expensive shoes, expensive bag, trout pout – Les. In her wake, trailing like the hired hand, Bruce.
‘Fuck,’ said Shay.
‘I thought you weren’t supposed to swear on a first date,’ said Morton with a hoot.
‘Les and Bruce have just walked in,’ she whispered quietly.
Morton looked to his side; the newcomers were staring at them, trying to work out what possible reason her ex and his ex might have to be here together intheirrestaurant. Les’s expression was as thunderous as the Botox would allow her to assume; Bruce looked flummoxed. To Shay’s surprise, Morton nodded courteously at them in greeting, before turning back to her.
‘I reckoned that’s what Prince Philip would do,’ he said,putting the last mange-tout in his mouth and dabbing at the edges of his lips with his best linen serviette.
‘Thank you for this,’ Morton said again while they were drinking their coffees, his smile both wide and generous. ‘I don’t want to be on my own for the rest of my life, so thank you for getting me into the swing again of taking a nice lady out. I’ve really enjoyed it. I can’t remember feeling at ease like this going out ever.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ said Shay.
‘I reckon Les will be fancying me again in this get-up, I’d better be on me guard.’ He grinned. ‘She’s a bugger for wanting what she can’t have.’
Shay nodded. ‘You be careful, Morton Jagger.’
‘It’s shook you hasn’t it,himbeing over there.’
‘Yes,’ replied Shay. ‘More than I expected.’
Bruce looked very handsome in the suit he was wearing, which blew Morton’s out of the water. He’d obviously settled well into a life of luxury; this place was probably his regular haunt now. She imagined he and Les would be snickering at the interlopers nearby, Shay in her old dress and Morton’s effort to impress with his carnation. Oh, how he must have struggled over the menu with all the fancy terms: the veloutés and pithiviers –chortle, chortle.
Shay stole a glance across to find Bruce’s eyes in her direction and the moment crystallised as beyond weird that her husband was over there with a woman whom she’d always valued as closer to her than her sister; and she wondered again where all the feelings they’d had for each other had gone, if they’d grown holes in themselves like human colanders, and it had drained out slowly.
‘I feel sod all, which is a nice surprise,’ said Morton,attempting to dab off the spot of coffee that had fallen on his tie. ‘That woman over there is a taker. And so is Bruce. And we’re givers, us, Shay. I don’t know if they’re happy, but they aren’t talking much and they’ve both got faces on them like wet weekends. She’s great with an audience, but whenever it was just her and me out for a night, there wasn’t a lot else going on apart from eating. I’d start a conversation about something at work and she’d tell me to shut up because I was boring.’
‘Then you deserve better,’ said Shay.
‘I do. I want someone like you that brings out the best in me. Someone kind, someone that doesn’t look at me like sh—… poop on their shoe all the time, someone I don’t have to buy. We used to have smashing sex after I’d bought her a handbag. You’ve no idea how many of them she’s got.’
Shay laughed. She hoped Morton would find the woman he wanted because she’d be lucky. And very loved.
‘What about you, Shay?’ asked Morton. ‘Do you think you’ll ever take the plunge again? We could have one of those pacts where if we haven’t met anyone in ten years, we’ll give up the ghost and get together.’
‘I think you’ll be off the shelf sooner than you think,’ replied Shay. ‘As for me… there’s someone I used to know from a long time ago who’s come back into my life. And… I think I’m hiding a little behind all I’ve had to do recently.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it feels too right and that makes me suspicious.’
Morton finished off the last of his coffee. ‘No guarantee with stuff like love, is there? If you like him, don’t muck about, Shay. As you know, life isn’t fair, it doesn’t stop dolloping out shit when it thinks you’ve had more than enough, so when the good bits come along, grab them with both hands and make up for some lost time.’
