“And how is the darling Desmond?” Her new man. Success in the lonely hearts columns.
“Fine,” she said. “He’s really nice. Very sweet.”
“I hear a but, in there somewhere.”
She looked despondent, tugged at her hair, a rather nasty silver blonde this month with a single extension that came dangerously close to dipping in her drink.
“But…” I prompted.
“It’s not him. It’s…”
“What?” Silence. Oh, hell, must be something awful. “You’re not pregnant?” Diane’s worst nightmare.
“No, it’s not that. You know how careful I am. Promise you won’t preach…”
“Preach?” What on earth was she on about it. She wasn’t usually this coy. “Just tell me.”
“I had a phone call. From Ben.”
“Oh, no,” I groaned.
“Sal,” she said crossly.
“Well, it’s just that he made you so unhappy.” I fiddled with my beer glass.
“Not on purpose,” she retorted.
“Why did he ring?”
“Talk,” she said in a small voice. “He’s engaged.”
“Oh, great. So he wanted to tell you all about it, did he?”
“Sal, don’t.”
“Sorry.” I bit my tongue.
“He’s met someone through work, she’s based in Brussels. He said…he’s been thinking about me a lot.”
I resisted the temptation to raise my eyes to heaven and groan.
“He wanted to meet up, see me again.”
What was wrong with the guy? Cold feet?
“What did you say?”
She sighed. “I said I could do tomorrow.”
“You’re going to see him?” I was aghast. Ben and Diane had been happy briefly before their relationship got bogged down by different expectations. Ben wanted commitment, more specifically he wanted children. Diane didn’t, never had and wasn’t going to change her mind. For Ben that sounded the death knell to the liaison. After the break-up Diane was very upset, she missed him terribly, she pined. Time had helped, other men had come and gone. She mentioned him less and less. I assumed she was over him. Wrong.
“Why?” I asked her.
“Because, I still feel…” she hesitated, “…I still love him,” she said simply, “just hearing his voice was…I know it’s pathetic but no one else has ever made me feel like he does.”
“He made you feel bloody awful for months on end.”
“I know,” she glared at me.
“Why does he want to see you? Did he say?”
“Not really. He’s on the brink of a big step, I think he wants to make sure he’s made the right decision.”
It sounded awful to me, checking over an ex-girlfriend just to make sure that your fiancee is a better bet. But I kept mum. There was an awkward pause in the conversation. I searched for something constructive to say.
