Page 83 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
It would seem she knows Stu then, who’s also here to give him a break from the kids. The two embrace as I stand there and they laugh trying to work out how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.
‘Steph, this is Danny’s wife, Meggsy. Steph used to live next door to us with her brothers. Jesus, it’s been an age.’
It’s actually Meg but I don’t correct them and smile politely. Steph is a vision in many different clashing prints, her hair swept up into a messy bun held together with a tie-dye headscarf. I bet she’s very into the nuts.
‘Last thing I heard your mum said you were in Australia training to be a lawyer.’
‘Trying to get onBondi Rescue, more like,’ I joke. Steph gives me a strange look.
‘Stu was like the cleverest kid I knew. You and Bradley were in the same class and they got them professors in from university to give you harder maths.’
I glance at Stu who, as usual, has no interest in gloating. He nods and looks away sheepishly. ‘What are you up to these days then Steph?’
‘Own a vintage clothes stall and we travel to markets and fairs and stuff.’
‘How old’s Betsy now?’
‘Get this, she’s eighteen this year.’
I nod politely assuming Betsy to be a car or a very elderly dog. Steph gets her phone out to show Stu a picture. Betsy is a girl, a proper person and it dawns on me that it’s her daughter. She smiles at me.
‘I know, don’t look old enough – I had her back end of college. Do you remember? Your ma used to help me babysit her so I could finish my art foundation course.’
‘She were dead cute. Remember Danny used to take her on drives in his Citroën? It were a village affair raising that one.’
‘And now she’s off to Manchester to study French and Philosophy so we obviously did something right.’
I smile. The fact that Danny used to take Betsy out in his Citroën also makes me slightly wary about Betsy’s parentage. Danny enters the scene and reaches over to embrace her.
‘Now then, blast from past. How do?’
It’s turned into a strange Northern vernacular where I will take a few seconds at the end of each sentence to digest and translate.
‘Just telling Stu, Betsy turns eighteen this year,’ she says.
‘You’re having a laugh. Bonny little baby she were…You here examining the art then?’
‘How could I not? Powerful stuff – girl done good as usual.’ She gestures to a man at the other side of the room. ‘We’ll catch up later boys, eh? Just going to check on the old man.’
We smile as she heads over to an elderly gentleman in a tank top holding a couple of pints. ‘Not sure her dad will appreciate the art?’ I say with a giggle.
Danny and Stu snigger. ‘That’ll be Steph’s husband.’
‘Que?’ I seem to utter in a snort-like way.
‘That’s Mr Glendale. He were head of art. When she left school, they hooked up.’ Stu informs me.
‘How old is he?’
‘Forty-four when they got together.’
They both glance over with shades of judgement.
‘But…he…’
‘Looks like he should be drinking the last of the summer wine?’
I try my hardest not to stare. He’s not a sprightly gentleman and not in the silver fox territory either.
