Women of a Dangerous Age. Fanny Blake
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children out of her way as her mother slipped from maudlin nostalgia into something more aggressive. When she was drunk, which she was more and more often after her husband’s death, everyone was a disappointment to her and she became angry and vocal about it.
‘Dad and I aren’t very close. We’ve tried but it’s been difficult.’ Ali stopped as she peeled the foil lids off the containers in front of her, then replaced them and pushed the tray the full two inches away from her. ‘God, the food never gets any better, does it?’
Realising Ali was not going to elaborate on her relationship with her father, Lou changed the subject. ‘But aren’t you moving in with your boyfriend? What’s that?’ Lou watched Ali pop a white pill.
‘Imodium.’ She grimaced and crossed her fingers. ‘Let’s hope it works. My boyfriend? Well, I’m going home to a new life, I guess.’ A dreamy expression crossed her face. ‘He’s a fantastic man, a little bit older than me, who I’ve been seeing for the last three years. He’s married but he’s going to leave her. I’ve promised not to say anything to anyone until he’s extricated himself, but by the time I’m back he should be there. Or near enough. Then we’ll be together. I can’t wait.’
Lou marvelled at Ali’s apparent lack of concern. ‘But aren’t you worried about his wife? Or his family? Won’t they make things difficult?’ She couldn’t imagine herself being in that position without having some concern about the hurt she must be inflicting.
‘Why should I be?’ Ali looked puzzled. ‘That’s their business, isn’t it? But from what he’s said, things have been pretty ropey between them for ages. Let’s face it, he wouldn’t have kept our affair going if they weren’t. We’ve seen each other almost every week, gone out for meals, to the cinema. I’ve even been away with him when he’s travelled on business. He couldn’t have done any of that if either of them cared more about the other, could he?’
‘But don’t you talk about it?’ Lou tried to sound interested rather than astonished, not wanting to point out the obvious: that plenty of men were happy to have their cake and eat it. Ali was too smart not to know that, but perhaps she was just salving her conscience.
‘Never,’ Ali said firmly. ‘That’s a rule I made and I’ve stuck with. Wife, children, pets and his domestic crises have always been right off the agenda. We have a great time together without them getting in the way. I never imagined he’d leave her, never wanted him to, so my being ignorant of all that stuff has meant that things have run happily alongside his marriage without nudging it off the rails.’
Lou almost choked on a mouthful of the rubber passing for chicken curry. ‘Then how do you know he’s the one for you? You can’t know much about him at all.’
‘I know enough. Really, I do. I know what I’m doing, and I know why I’m doing it.’
But Lou hadn’t been probing into Ali’s motives. She was just intrigued at why anyone would see this as an ideal basis for a long-term partnership.
Ali went on. ‘I know it’s not a conventional view of a satisfactory or fulfilling relationship but until now I’ve always thought I was getting the best of both worlds: my freedom plus plenty of no-strings passion and entertainment.’
‘Why change things? That sounds pretty damn perfect to me.’ And the polar opposite to Lou’s own marriage where, for the last few years, she’d sometimes felt as if she was being very slowly buried alive.
Ali looked uncertain of what to say for a moment. ‘When he proposed it, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. At the same time though, I knew that we couldn’t keep things the same way forever. I’m not getting any younger …. Once I thought I’d get married, have children, but it never happened. Perhaps this is my chance. Perhaps it’s time for me to make a commitment to someone else.’
She leaned back so the stewardess could take both their trays.
‘Then you’re lucky to have found him.’ Lou remembered when she and Hooker had taken that same step together. So different, given that they had been more than twenty years younger than Ali was now, but how full of optimism they had been. And how disappointed now, so many years later.
While Ali disturbed her other neighbour so she could get out of her seat, Lou began to prepare herself for sleep. She didn’t bother to check which films were playing. As soon as the cabin lights were dimmed, she slipped herself a sleeping pill donated by a doctor friend for the occasion, wrapped herself in her blanket, reclined her seat, put on her canary yellow eye mask and rested her head against the side of the plane. Sleep was the only thing that would make the flight go faster. She would catch up more with Ali in London. Ten minutes later, her mouth had fallen open enough to signify she was asleep but not quite enough to warrant total embarrassment.
3
The unearthly flickering light of the tiny TV screens set in the seat backs illuminated the blanket-wrapped huddles of passengers. Walking back down the darkened aisle, Ali thought how she could justify what she’d said about Ian and his marriage so that Lou would understand. Although she’d only known her a short time, theirs was already becoming a friendship she wanted to continue. She didn’t want to derail it by not explaining herself properly. Besides that, she was intrigued by the fact that Lou obviously didn’t want to talk about her own marriage and how it had ended. No, there was plenty more to find out about each other.
But by the time she returned to her seat, Lou was out for the count.
Ali’s other neighbour was lying back, absorbed in a film, but let her pass with a polite nod before returning his attention to the screen. Denied conversation, she took out her travel pillow, blew it up and fitted it round her neck. She popped a second Imodium (probably a mistake) in response to a sudden cramping in her lower stomach, then closed her eyes and turned her mind to home, focusing on what she hadn’t told Lou, what she hadn’t told anyone: that setting up home with Ian was significant in more ways than one. It meant that her life as a serial mistress was almost over.
She hadn’t considered her relationship with Ian in any way different from those she’d had with the string of married lovers who came before him, until six weeks earlier when he suggested they rethink their relationship. None of her previous lovers had come close to suggesting such a thing. Perhaps they had all believed she was one hundred per cent against one hundred per cent commitment. And they would have been right. Until now, she had been. She suspected Lou would say that it suited them to believe that. Lou’s cynical take on life amused her, made her look at things in a new light.
Ian’s suggestion that they live together was so unexpected that, when it came, she had been unable to reply immediately. They’d finished dinner quickly, Ian looking uncomfortable, obviously wishing he had put it another way, another time – or not at all. If she agreed, she didn’t need Einstein to point out that her life and their relationship would change forever. What niggled her was how much that mattered to her. She couldn’t abandon her way of life without some thought. Being his mistress had meant the relationship ran on her terms while she allowed him to believe that it ran on his. That’s how she had preferred all her relationships with men to be since Don had left her over twenty years earlier. With him, she had enjoyed being half of the whole they made together. After they lost touch, she had remained single, unwilling to take the risk of committing herself to anyone else, scared of rejection.
Agreeing to Ian’s proposal would mean a shift in their dynamic. But why not take that risk? The more she had thought about it, the more that shift appealed. Every evening they would come home to each other. Weekends would be spent together doing those things that couples do together: cooking, talking, going out with friends, sharing interests, and getting to know one another in a new way, discovering the truth. Now it had been offered, permanent companionship, something that had been so absent in her life for so long, something she had never thought would be hers again, was suddenly something she craved. She even dared allow herself to imagine that she and Ian might have a child together. She’d read about women giving birth in their mid-forties. It wasn’t a total impossibility. She wondered what he’d say. After all, she was at an age where