A GIFT TO MYSELF
Sophie Adamsa striking, blue-eyed brunette in her early fifties with a shapely figure, though a touch on the curvier sidestood by the window of her five-star luxury suite, sipping hazelnut liqueur and pondering:
So, here I am Middle-aged, divorced, all alone at a hotel designed for lovers. At least its a suite and not some dodgy roadside inn overlooking a car parknow that would have been truly tragic.
She was quite convinced romance had drifted away over twenty years back, gone with the last slammed doors and her childrens teenage tantrums. Men still flitted in and out of her life now and then, but every fling ended in disappointment, bordering on despair. Sophie had finally told herself that relationships simply werent her thing.
Then along came Himher virtual suitor. His messages made her cheeks flush and her posture straighten involuntarily. She wanted to frame them and hang them on the fridgeas a reminder and as motivation to keep her distance from said fridge. Sometimes Sophie suspected her admirer either belonged to a poetry group or just had far too much time on his hands.
She even started feeling like Soph again. She treated herself to a dress that made her colleagues jaws clench with envy, bought a bra that cost nearly as much as a weekend in Paris, and signed up at the gym. She did squats with the kind of fervour that made it feel like the fate of the nation depended on her glutes.
If I keel over from these squats tomorrow, please bury me in this dress. Let my ex husband stew in regret, shed joke darkly to her friends.
They finally met. It went spectacularly well. The details arent for public record. Suffice to say, when Sophie looked at herself in the mirror afterwards, she saw a younger, happier woman staring back at her.
But their second rendezvous didnt pan out. Theyd chosen a charming seaside town for a dose of romance. Sophie planned, prepped, frettedonly for him to ring at the last minute with a sudden bout of high blood pressure, leaving her alone in a strange towns grand hotel. Clearly, stress takes its toll. Fate seemed to wink: Steady on now, girl.
Sophie sat by the window with another glass of liqueur, searching for perspective.
Well, never mind. What will I tell the grandchildren one day? Granny, how did you find your second youth? In an airport car park, waiting for a bloke and his blood pressure pills. Now, isnt that romantic?
The next morning, she booked herself into the spa and promised: Right, enoughs enough. From now on, Im celebrating me. Im doing this properly. The spa staff assured her that her skin positively glowed. Sophie checked her own reflection and figured the glow probably owed more to essential oils than actual youth.
A city tour followed, which turned out to be lovely. The guide was tall, silver-haired, voice like velvet. Some old dear in a tracksuit chattered away nearby, but Sophie only had ears for the guide. He was talking about medieval battles, and Sophie mused: Men have fought wars over cities for centuries, women have fought for affection. Balance, in its way, remains unbroken.
You must try the apple crumble here, the guide urged, leading the group into the best little tearoom in town and looking straight at her.
The crumble was heavenlyso good Sophie nearly fell in love all over again, but this time with the apples and pastry. At least you can always count on a crumble. A lot more reliable than men, she smirked inwardly.
Then came a little shopping: an amber pendant and a turquoise dress that clung so snugly to her bust, she couldnt help but wink at her own reflection. The dress was so daring Sophie doubted shed ever actually wear itbut that didnt stop her from buying it anyway.
On the flight home, Sophie glanced out of the porthole, watching the city slip awayand with it, her romantic expectations.
Ah, well maybe theyd meet again, maybe not. Life, after all, certainly doesnt end here.
Ahead lay a brand-new wardrobe, a couple more holidays, and, if she was lucky, another slice of apple crumble. With or without a man.
And if its without, Ill always have a scoop of vanilla ice cream, she chuckled, sinking back in her seat, finally at ease.
