Page 36 of A Midlife Marriage

‘He’s eighty-six.’ Kay frowned. ‘And there were no single ladies at my mother’s funeral. Not that I remember anyway.’

‘And my lady is eighty-nine!’ He opened the microwave and threw the meal in. ‘Maybe he put himself on Tinder.’

‘He’s eighty-six, Craig.’

Fork in hand, Craig turned. ‘Is there an age limit?’

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her father wouldn’t be on Tinder! That was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard. Not least because he could barely work his phone as it was, constantly archiving messages from the doctor and the bank, and then ringing her in a panic when he couldn’t find them. ‘No,’ she said and sat down. ‘I don’t suppose there is an age limit, considering I’m on it now.’

‘Tinder!’ Craig fell back against the counter, his hands covering his face. ‘Mrs B is on Tinder?’

‘Don’t laugh.’ Chin dipped, she ran her finger along the edge of the table. She felt exposed, as if he’d caught a glimpse of her in her underwear. ‘I was persuaded,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’

‘I’m not laughing.’ The smile dropped from Craig’s face. ‘I think it’s great,’ he said. ‘I really do. Have you met anyone? Can I see? You can’t give your number out, you know that …’

‘Stop!’ Kay raised her hand. ‘Just stop there. My friends set it up, and to be honest I haven’t even looked at it. I’m …’ She paused.

‘Scared?’

As she looked up, the smallest whisper of confirmation escaped her lips.Yes.Scared was exactly the right word for how she felt, and not for the first time she found herself amazed at the emotional intelligence of a young man who had gone through school failing almost every subject. ‘Well …’ But she didn’t know how to continue. To say she hadn’t looked wasn’t quite true. She had opened the app just once, done a tiny amount of scrolling before, very quickly, closing it again. The muscled angst of teenage memories had stopped her from doing anything as bold as sending someone alike.A like? When had she ever done that? She knew exactly when. Valentine’s Day 1983. She had sent an anonymous card to Stephen Webber, the class heartthrob on whom she’d had a secret and intense crush.That was the only time girls were allowed to do the choosing. Valentine’s Day and leap year. And it wasn’t a joke. It really was that these were the only times it had felt acceptable for a girl to make the move, and only then under the protection of anonymity. The few relationships she’d had before marrying Martin had all been instigated by the man. Boyfriends she had acquired because it had been betterto have a boyfriend, than not have a boyfriend. Because all her friends had boyfriends. Because it was expected that she have a boyfriend. And although there was no need to re-write history, and she had loved Martin, he had done the asking and she couldn’t help but wonder now how things might have turned outif… She took a deep breath in, her shoulders rising as she looked at Craig. If she hadn’t been so scared.

‘Maths used to scare me,’ Craig said, and shrugged.

‘I remember.’ Kay smiled. She did remember him, right at the back of her class, a look of utter bewilderment on his face every time she said the word,fraction.

‘But I can still remember what you said.’

‘Really? What did I say?’

‘You said that everyone finds everything hard, until they know what they’re doing. And that it’s difficult to like something, if you’re not very good at it.’

‘Did I?’ Kay nodded. He’d hit the nail on the head, or she had. She had no clue what she was doing, she wasn’t enjoying it, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be doing it.

Popping the meal onto a plate, and the plate onto a tray, Craig turned. ‘Let me get this to your dad and then I’ll make a cuppa and we’ll have a little Tinder lesson.’He winked. ‘I’ll be teacher this time.’

‘That’s a no.You never give your phone number out, and if they ask for it straight away it’s a red flag.’ As he spoke, Craig made a square shape with his hands. Her father had been served his dinner and now here she was, roles reversed as Craig started his lesson in Tinder etiquette. ‘A big red flag,’ he repeated.

‘Good to know.’ Kay nodded. ‘Except flags tend to be rectangular.’

‘They can be octonotical for all it matters.’

‘Octagonal.’

‘Whatever it is!’ Craig frowned. ‘You don’t give your phone number out. This is serious Mrs B, there are some real looney-tunes out there. OK?’

‘OK,’ she repeated.

‘What about this one?’ Craig turned the phone. ‘Adam. He’s fifty-seven, he likes Netflix, sounds and football.’

‘What are sounds?’

‘A middle-aged way of saying music. Personally, I think he’s trying to be too cool.’

‘So, it’s a, no?’

‘It’s a no.’ Craig swiped left, and Adam disappeared. ‘Richard? He likes football, cycling, running and hiking.’

Kay shook her head. ‘I could never keep up. It’s exhausting just looking at his photos.’

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