My Secret Lover

I’ll just have the salad bit, avoid the coleslaw, and maybe just a tiny
bit of chilli for protein.
    ‘People get married for all sorts of
reasons, actually.’ I snap the ring right off my can of Coke. Diet,
fortunately, but the hole’s so small it would take about a month to suck out
the contents.
    ‘So, what’s yours?’ asks New Andy.
    Richard Batty’s pretending very hard
to concentrate on his food. There’s a limit to the number of times you can prod
the crust of your pie without it all collapsing into the gravy.
    ‘What’s my what?’
    ‘Reason for getting married,’ says
New Andy.
    ‘You don’t have to have a reason for
getting married.’
    ‘You just said you did.’
    ‘I’m in quite a lot of pain,
actually,’ I say.
    ‘I’m going to get you another can.’
Richard finally comes to my aid.
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘You’ve got great legs. You should
show them more often,’ says New Andy.
    I know he’s gay, but babies, weight
and reasons for getting married in the space of about thirty seconds for a
woman of my age is going some. And it’s actually a sexist remark concerning my
legs.
    However, I shall forgive him
instantly.
    ‘You know, you remind me of someone
now your hair’s gone a bit blond,’ he says.
    I brace myself and prepare a response
in case he says Miss Piggy, which happened once when I let Michelle do my
highlights.
    ‘I think I know who you mean,’ says
Richard, opening a new can for me.
    They’re both peering at me with
slightly screwed-up eyes, like you do at those pictures which are all dots, but
turn out to be an eagle or something if you stare long enough. I always pretend
I know what they’re talking about, but I’ve never actually identified anything
except lots of dots.
    ‘I think I’m thinking of the one in Bob
and Rose.’
    Huge relief, because, ‘You’re hardly
Kermit yourself?’ makes no sense at all.
    I put my fork down. I don’t want to
spoil the effect by chewing.
    ‘The actress is called Lesley Sharp.
She’s much prettier than me.’
    ‘You could be her older sister,’ says
New Andy.
    ‘So, if my life were a television
series, you reckon Lesley Sharp could play me?’
    Silly to push it. Now they’re both
looking at me as if I’m delusional.
    ‘Because, I have a wonderful idea for
a detective series featuring a school teacher,’ I improvise.
     
    *
     
    How to grow a sunflower:
     
    1. Put seed in a plastic container.
    2. Cover with earth.
    3. Water thoroughly, but not so much
that all the earth foams up and flows over the top onto the window sill and
then drips into teacher’s tote bag.
    4. Wait.
     
    The waiting bit is always a battle of
nerves. I never quite trust that nature is going to do what it’s supposed to,
and the children don’t understand why the shoots never appear when they’re
looking.
    ‘When will it get a flower?’ asks
Gwyneth, staring sadly at her little yoghurt pot of soil.
    ‘Not for a long time yet. First they
get shoots and leaves, and when they’re strong enough and big enough, we can
plant them by the fence and then, if we’re really lucky we’ll get some
flowers.’
    ‘Why can’t we do runner beans? Mrs
Vane’s class is doing runner beans in plastic bottles and you can see the roots
and everything...’
    ‘Miss?’
    ‘Yes, Robbie?’
    ‘I think you look like a runner bean
in your green dress.’
    I love the six year old’s idea of
what is rude.
     
    What with runner beans and Lesley
Sharp, the omens are looking very good for this term.
     
    * * *
     
    Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beeeeep!
    ‘BBC Radio 4. The News at Five
o’clock.’
    I am not going to look up my Inbox
when I get home.
    I must forget about Andy 42.
    I am certainly not going to write to
him again.
    In fact, I shall delete our entire
correspondence.
    There is the remote possibility that
Andy 42’s computer has a virus which means he never received my e-mails.
    Or he could have been cut off. If you
forget to pay your server bill, even accidentally, they’re on to you
straightaway. It happened to me when I got a new Visa card.
    He could, of course, have been run
over and I will never know.
    Or kidnapped.
    It happens all the time in dramas featuring
lone female detectives on television.
    Actually, primary teacher turns
amateur detective is a good idea for a series. You learn a lot of grown-up
secrets from the things the children tell you.
    I should write to the head of ITV.
    ‘...BBC Radio 4 News.’

32
     
    ‘Basically we’ve got