A GIFT TO MYSELF
Julia Harrington a charming blue-eyed brunette in her early fifties, curvy though slightly prone to plumpness, stood at the window of her five-star suite, sipping hazelnut liqueur and thinking to herself:
So this is what its come to a middle-aged divorcée, alone, in a hotel made for couples. At least its a suite. If I were stuck in a roadside inn overlooking a car park, that would be truly pitiful.
She was quite convinced that romance had ended for her about twenty years ago somewhere between the last slammed doors and her childrens teenage years. Men still occasionally crossed her path, but it always ended in disappointment bordering on gloom, so she decided relationships werent for her.
That was, until He appeared her virtual suitor. His messages made her cheeks flush and her posture straighten unconsciously. She felt she ought to print them out and stick them on her fridge both to re-read and to keep herself from raiding the fridge too often. Julia sometimes wondered if her admirer was in a creative writing club or simply had far too much time on his hands.
She turned into Jules again. Bought a dress that made her colleagues jaws clench with envy, treated herself to a bra costing as much as a weekend flight, and even signed up for the gym. She did squats with the determination of someone who believed civilisation itself depended on her glutes.
If I drop dead mid-squat, just bury me in this dress. Let my ex regret everything, she would joke grimly to her friends.
The big date happened. It went well. Details arent for the records lets just say it was the first time in ages Julia enjoyed looking at her own reflection; she caught sight of a younger, happier version of herself.
The second date, however, didnt go as planned. They chose a lovely seaside town for an extra dash of romance. Julia prepared, she fussed, she worried; and at the last minute he had a hypertensive episode, leaving her alone in a fancy hotel in an unfamiliar town. Perhaps stress no longer passes her by as easily. Fate seemed to wink, Dont push your luck, girl.
She now sat by the window with a glass of liqueur, trying to reason with herself:
Well, never mind. What would I tell the grandchildren anyway? Gran, how did you find your second youth? Oh, next to the airport car park, waiting for a man and his blood pressure pills. Real romantic!
The next morning she headed for the spa and decided: Right, thats it, love party for one from now on. Time to treat myself. The spa staff assured her that her skin glowed. Julia glanced in the mirror, decided yes but it was definitely more the result of oils than genuine youth.
A tour of the town followed, and it was delightful. The guide was tall, silver-haired, with the softest, warmest voice. An elderly woman in a tracksuit chatted nearby, but Julia listened only to him. As he told tales of medieval battles, Julia mused: for centuries, men fought over cities; women, for attention. Balance, really, hadnt changed much.
You must try the apple crumble, the guide insisted, leading the group into the best tearoom in town and locking eyes with her.
The crumble was divine so good Julia nearly fell in love all over again, but this time with pastry and apples. At least with apple crumble, youll never be stood up, she smirked to herself.
Afterwards came a bit of shopping: an amber pendant and a turquoise dress that hugged her chest so tightly she winked at her own reflection. It was so daring, Julia doubted shed ever find the nerve to wear it. But that didnt stop her buying it.
On the plane, Julia gazed through the porthole, watching the town melt away along with her romantic hopes.
Well perhaps theyd see each other again, perhaps not. Life certainly wasnt over either way.
Ahead waited a refreshed wardrobe, a few holidays, and perhaps another apple crumble. With or without a man.
And if its without, at least Ill take an extra scoop of vanilla ice cream, she chuckled, and settled into a comfortable doze.
