So, let me tell you what happened the other nighthonestly, Im still a bit baffled. Id been chatting with a bloke named Richard for a couple of months; hes sixty, quite composed and self-assured, not one for empty promises. He invited me over for dinner at his flatsaid he wanted to cook me something special, that it would be far cozier and quieter than fussing about in a restaurant.
Emily, I want to make you a proper meal, he said on the phone, all earnest. Its much nicer to chat at home than at some busy place.
So I got myself ready: this wasnt just a grab-a-coffee sort of meet-up, and it certainly wasnt a casual stroll. No, this was meant to be a proper date. I even picked up a box of those chocolates he likes, just to bring along. Was in great spirits, honestly.
Now, Id never actually been to his before, so turning up there felt like a bit of a leap forward. He met me at the doorvery stately, very put-together.
You look lovely, he told me, helping me out of my coat.
His flat was spacious, had those high ceilings, but the air felt a bit heavy, like the windows hadnt been opened in ages. The hallway was tidy enough, and in the sitting room there were two wine glasses on the tableand that was it.
So I asked, Is dinner nearly ready? Im rather peckish.
With a grin, he said, Of course. Lets pop into the kitchen.
And heres where things took a turn: the kitchen sink was overflowing with dirty dishes. Pots and pans everywhere, chaos, like no one had bothered to wash up for a week. On the table, all sorts of ingredients were scattered about.
Richard looked absolutely chuffed. There we are, he said.
Er, whats ready, exactly? I asked, a bit taken aback.
He was perfectly calm: This is what real family life looks like. I dont just want a woman for datingIm after someone wholl really run a home. I want to see how you look after things, and me as well.
He leant in a bit. I left everything as it is on purpose. Wanted to see how youd get on with it. You can say anything you like, but its what happens in the kitchen that tells the truth.
So Im standing there in my nice dress, surrounded by this bomb site of a kitchen, staring at him. He wasnt joking.
All those old messages came to mindyou know, maybe I should help out, maybe thats whats expected. Weve all been taught to be accommodating, patient, grateful.
But then I did what felt right to me. I hope youll back me on thisgenuinely, Id love your thoughts.
I knew I didnt owe anyone anything.
So I said, as calmly as I could, Richard, I came out for a date. I didnt exactly have cleaning on my mind.
He looked honestly puzzled. Whats the problem? The aprons right there. Were both grown-ups. I want bangers and mash, clean platesIm after a bit of care.
Then he hit me with, If this puts you off, what happens if I fall ill? Are you just going to leg it?
Now, that is pure manipulation.
Thing is, Im fifty-eight. Raised my kids. Spent years nursing my late husband. I know how to cook, keep house, all that. Ive spent my life doing those things.
And for precisely that reason, Im not about to start again for someone new.
Youre right, I told him. You want a housekeeper. Someone wholl cook, clean, and look after you, all rolled into one.
He was already reaching for the apron.
Hang on, I stopped him. Youve got this all wrong. I came here to relax and enjoy your company. Theres a kitchen in my own house too, and Ive spent plenty of time standing in it, thank you very much.
When I see a man, I want him to treat mewith consideration, not hand me a second shift.
His expression changed.
Oh, thats what you women are like these days, he snapped. Only interested in restaurants and being waited on.
I didnt sign up to work for you, I replied. And Ive already proved myself through forty years of real life. That ought to be enough.
I grabbed the chocolates back off the table.
Where are you going? he stammered.
Well, there isnt really a dinner table here, just a mess and your demands.
Fine then, go onbe alone, he shouted.
Supposed to sting, right? But it didnt. He just wanted to see what he could get away with. This whole test was really about seeing how much Id take.
If a woman agrees to do the washing-up first time she visits, hell think he can treat her any way he likes after that. But I just walked out, no regrets at all.
