Chasing Men by Edwina Currie Read Free Book Online Page B

that’s great. We’ll go Dutch after today, unless it’s a birthday treat. Some of my other friends would join us. A riotous girls’ day out!’
    Hetty pondered. ‘Is that what you do with your time?’
    ‘Mostly,’ Clarissa replied. ‘I can’t go too far. Robin likes me home in the evening, even though the children are away at school. He says that’s the way to keep a marriage strong – sorry. You stayed at home, and it didn’t work for you.’
    ‘Umm … How is Robin?’
    ‘As per usual. He’ll be head of chambers next year, so lots of black-tie dinners when I’ll be on show too. The darling’s given me a clothes allowance. Aren’t I a lucky girl?’
    He trivialised you. Turned you into a doll.
    ‘Does that completely fulfil you, Clarissa? Is that all you need from life?’ Hetty was startled to hear her own words. ‘Seems a bit… frivolous to me.’
    ‘Well!’ Clarissa sounded annoyed. ‘I’d rather be in my shoes than yours , dear. Shall we take a peek at the puds? Not that I want one. But you might.’
    Abashed, Hetty considered the patisserie, then shook her head and ordered a filter coffee. Black.
    Clarissa leaned across the table. ‘We’ve been friends for years, so let’s be blunt. You’re the wrong side of fifty, you’re … well, sliding into middle age would have been an apt description several years ago. What are your qualifications? Your earning power must be limited. What’re you going to do? Work in a shop? After decades as mistress in your own home, would you take so easily to being a minion and being told what to do? No. That’s not the answer.’
    ‘And what is?’
    ‘Stick with me, baby. I’ll smarten you up, then we’ll sort you out – I know a few decent older chaps who are in the market for a kind-hearted lady. We’ll have you organised in no time.’
    Hetty’s eyes widened. ‘You think I should be chasing men, do you? But what for?’
    ‘Because it’s the best for you! Because we should let them do the hard slog, the frightful stuff like working for a living. Let them be the wage slaves. They think they’reexploiting us, but it’s the other way round.’ She touched her Rolex watch, a slim ladies’ model, like a talisman. ‘Darling, most divorced men are helpless. Infants. They’re desperate to get hitched again – formally or informally. And you’re exactly what they’re looking for. You might have to lie about your age, though.’
    ‘I’m already doing that,’ Hetty muttered into her coffee.
    ‘Good. Then you’re on the right track.’
    ‘But would it not,’ Hetty chose her words with care – she had few enough shoulders to lean on, without alienating any – ‘give you more satisfaction, if the money you spent was your own? That you’d earned?’
    ‘No,’ said Clarissa, and called for the bill. ‘Apart from anything else, I simply wouldn’t get anywhere near the amount I tend to splurge. Come on, Het, be reasonable. How many women do you know who earn more than men?’
     
    Christian and his unnamed partner had been out on the Sunday evening when Hetty had knocked. She had left a warm note of thanks for the tickets under the door. Determined not to give up, she watched for a light in their flat. It was on as she returned home, laden, after her day with Clarissa. The purchases stored on hangers, she brushed her hair, applied lipstick, decided against perfume and climbed the stairs.
    At the last moment, hand poised to knock, she recalled that in part she was trying to make amends. Quickly she ran back downstairs, grabbed her purse and hurried to the off-licence .
    ‘Hello!’ The vision stood at the door, his face breaking into a slow grin. ‘Come on in.’ He called behind him, ‘Markus, she’s here – our new neighbour. Hetty.’
    How gracefully that was done, Hetty thought. The way I used to introduce people at Stephen’s business parties – so no one should feel awkward. Markus and Christian. Do they use the same surname, I