Page 12 of Good Sisters

As Harry was about to read out another golden nugget from his book, the kitchen door burst open. ‘Water! I think I’m dying.’ Marion stumbled in, hair all over the place and mascara streaks down her cheeks.

‘You look rough.’ I grinned.

‘I got in at four. I’m too old for this shit. Dating is a fucking nightmare.’

‘Morning, Marion, language, please,’ Harry said, gesturing towards Tom, who was in the corner quietly finishing a huge bowl of Cheerios.

‘Sorry, I can’t help it. I’ve always sworn like a drunken sailor.’

‘Try harder,’ Harry said.

I handed her a large glass of water and two paracetamol.

‘You’re an angel. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You house me and you give me drugs.’ Marion swallowed the tablets.

Marion had been staying with us one weekend a month, when her ex-husband, Greg, flew back from Dubai to see the kids. Harry wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about this arrangement. Even when we used to live next door to her,Harry had found Marion ‘a lot to take’. But she had been there for me. When the boys were small and I was struggling, Marion had been a lifeline. With four kids of her own, she understood the long days and the feeling of being completely overwhelmed. We had been each other’s support network and had become firm friends. I had insisted we help her out after her separation.

Besides, since we’d bought this huge house with the money Harry’s aunt had left him, we’d converted the basement into a two-bedroom apartment for Christelle. She was happy for Marion to stay in the second bedroom once a month. Christelle thought Marion was nuts, but in a good way, and besides, Christelle was going travelling soon so the place would be empty.

‘It was your daughter and Kelly who led me astray last night,’ Marion told Harry.

‘What?’ Harry looked up from his book.

I saw Tom slip out of the room. Thank goodness: Marion’s stories tended to be X-rated.

‘Well, my date was a fucking disaster. Oops, sorry, a disaster. The guy did a runner when the bill came.’

‘No!’ Poor Marion.

‘Yes. He went to the toilets and never came back. So I got lumped paying for everything and, let’s be honest, it was pretty fucking humiliating. I waited for ages for the prick to reappear. Then I started to worry he’d had a heart attack or a stroke or something. So there I am, standing outside the door of the men’s loo, shouting, “Jason … Jason, are you all right?” Next thing, the waiter appears behind me and says he thinks he saw the man I was with leaving the restaurant. I wanted to die. The poor young waiter was so embarrassed for me, he couldn’t look me in the eye as I was paying for Jason, the fucking road-runner’s, steak.

‘So I’m leaving the restaurant, feeling like a piece of shit, and who do I bump into? Only Christelle and Kelly. I tell them my tale of woe and they insist I come out with them and not go home to either kill myself or track Jason down online and go and cut his knob off. So we go to this gay bar they like and, I swear to God, I had the best night ever. Gay women rock. I was propositioned twice and, I’m not gonna lie, I was tempted. I may forget men and just go for a woman. No snoring, no hairy arses, no blow-jobs, no dick poking you in the back in bed, no soggy condoms and no beard rash.’

‘Jesus, Marion!’ Harry shuffled in his stool. ‘I’m still on my first coffee of the day. I’m not able for this.’

‘I’m just being honest. Dating at fifty-one is a shit show. After last night, I think gay women have a better time. Your gay daughter has a fantastic girlfriend and their whole scene is amazing.’

‘Well, I’m sure it’s just as hard to meet the right person whether you’re gay or straight,’ I said, trying to steer the conversation towards safer territory before Marion gave Harry a coronary.

‘Maybe, but there seem to be a lot of dickhead men out there. Look, I just had fun with them, and they and their friends were a tonic after I’d paid a hundred and fifty euros for a rubbish meal with Harry fucking Houdini. It’s also nice to be with two people who are so in love. They’re very cute together.’

‘So loved up, aren’t they? I’m so glad Christelle met Kelly. I love Kelly,’ I gushed. I did. She was such a gorgeous girl and perfect for Christelle. While Christelle was all piercings and ‘don’t mess with me’ on the outside, she was such a kind, generous and giving person. Kelly was soft and affectionate on the outside, but tough too. They complemented each other.

‘Perhaps you’re going on the wrong dating sites,’ Harry said. ‘You seem to be meeting awful men. Maybe you need to join a more reputable one.’

Marion opened the fridge and took out a yogurt. ‘I’ve done Tinder, Bumble, Let’s Do Lunch, Coffee Meet-up, Two’s Company, 40s Dating, Match.com … You name it, I’ve joined it. Bottom line, men are just pricks.’

Harry cleared his throat. Uh-oh. What was he going to come out with? Harry had a habit of putting his foot in it. ‘The thing is, Marion, now don’t take this the wrong way, but you may be coming across a bit strongly, a bit too assertive for some of the men.’

Marion grinned. ‘It’s okay, Harry, I’m not a total muppet. I know I’m a fucked-up, loud-mouthed piece of work, but I believe there’s a lid for every pot. Despite my bastard ex-husband cheating on me with “nice, kind Sally”, I still believe in love. My mother shut down and spent forty years in a deep depression waiting for my dad to walk back in the door after he went AWOL. I’m not doing that. I would never do that to my kids. It was a nightmare. We didn’t just lose our dad, we lost our mum too. I want my kids to see me as strong and capable. I also believe I deserve a second chance. I think everyone does.’

‘Fair enough. I just think maybe you should consider toning down your strong personality a bit on the first date. Let the men get to know you before showing them the full force of your assertiveness,’ Harry suggested.

‘Why? Do guys tone it down on first dates? No. This is who I am. Like me or bog off.’

She had a point. Did men ever think they had to dampen themselves down to impress a woman? So, why should a woman have to do it? They’d find out soon enough who the real Marion was. Why waste time? I thought she was right:show them who you are straight up and find out quickly if you’re a good match or not.

Harry raised his hands. ‘It was just a suggestion.’ Changing the subject quickly, he asked, ‘How’s Greg, by the way?’

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