My dear friend owns her own beauty parlour. She buys whatever catches her eye without even glancing at the price tag. If Im out shopping with her, shell treat me to little luxuries as well, just because she can. Shes never accepted a penny from me for her salon services or anything shes bought for me. Ive always wanted to return the favour, so sometimes I look after her daughters. By the way, the girls are from her first marriage. She couldnt stay with her first husbandhe was unbelievably tight-fisted. He wouldnt even let the girls have a second pair of tights. She eventually left him, then remarried. The second bloke was overly possessive, and she ended things with him as well. The third one had an affair. She always ended the marriages quickly; her flat was registered in her name and she never had to share it with anyone.
My friend has always tried to set me up, as if someone would ever want to marry me. One day I met a chap. I was riding in his taxi; his name was Georgea kind soul. A week later, he invited me to meet his mum. Surprisingly, she was very warm and welcomed me at once, insisting I call her mum. Though her request was a bit odd.
Her son was thirty-four at the time, and she would text him every morning, then call, and come over if anything seemed urgent. There was one moment when she rang me directly and asked, Do you kiss him before he goes to work? Make sure you do, its the secret to a happy family. Later, for reasons I couldnt fathom, she decidedbased on my weary look after workthat her son must have been mistreating me. Ill have a word with him! she assured. Then, because I was coming home late, shed arrive to cook our dinner. But her cooking wasnt the true reasonit was just an excuse to inch her way into our home and settle in. George never stood up to his mother; he was absolutely fine with everythingtwo women in the kitchen, and what if two women ended up in the same bed? This time, I was the one who walked away.
