Chasing Men Read Online Free Page A

Chasing Men
Book: Chasing Men Read Online Free
Author: Edwina Currie
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anywhere else.’
    A silence fell, during which Hetty and Sally both drained their glasses. Hetty fetched a second bottle and opened a packet of Ritz crackers. She was not up to cooking a meal for them, and nor yet was the kitchen.
    ‘Why London, though?’ Sally again. Hetty noticed that a few scrawls had appeared on the notebook. A single unlit cigarette had emerged from the packet, as if begging permissionto be smoked.
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Well, you and Dad lived the rural idyll for yonks. A quiet life, but one that loads of people would give their eye-teeth for. Suddenly you throw it over to bury yourself in this urban wasteland. I don’t get it.’
    ‘Because …’ Hetty hesitated, ‘… this is a contrast. That was a very conservative life. I was occupied, even though I didn’t have paid work. But when I look back, perhaps it wasn’t quite enough. Or was heading that way. I think underneath I was a bit restless.’
    These remarks drew blank looks from both women. Hetty groaned inwardly. This might be an exercise in misunderstanding. Was she so hopeless at making herself clear? Or was it that her ideas were still muddled? Maybe she was expressing views neither her daughter nor her mother could credit. She tried again.
    ‘If I had stayed, much of what I’d busied myself with would have vanished into thin air. Divorced women in a traditional setting have a tricky time. Everyone’s scared of them – even I used to be. They’re seen either as unfortunate or as a threat. I’d have had to give up the parochial church council for a start, and sit by myself in church. Then I’d have been pursued by slippy local men who saw me as fair game with black looks from their wives, and had to put up with nosy-parkers on my meals-on-wheels round giving me their opinions. Or pity. That’s a recipe for terminal decline. Not ready for that.’
    Sally frowned. ‘So how will you pass the time? You’re not going to be one of those dotty women who goes shoplifting for fun, are you? I can’t come and bail you out.’
    ‘Don’t talk rubbish. I’m not about to start breaking the law. More likely to find the local library and start reading Proust.’
    More blank looks. ‘I shouldn’t, dear,’ her mother said. ‘It sounds dangerous.’
    Sally refused to be deflected. ‘Come on, how many years is it since you’ve lived on your own? Or have you ever?’
    Hetty considered. ‘No, you’re right. I never have. At college I was in the hall of residence. Then in the early days at Television Centre I shared digs in Shepherd’s Bush with three other girls. We lived on Ski yoghurt and Vesta dried meals, and had a whale of a time. I met your father and fell head over heels. We started off with a tiny pad in Ladbroke Grove. Proper little love-nest. We were happy. In those days.’
    ‘See? You can’t possibly live by yourself. You’ll be so lonely. You’ll never get used to it. It’s awful.’ Sally lunged for the cigarette and disappeared into the kitchen to find an ashtray. She emerged with the cigarette lit, a saucer in her hand and gloomy defiance on her face. ‘Don’t tell me I can’t, please, Mum. It’s hard enough trying to sort you out. Doing it in a smoke-free zone is beyond me.’ She returned to the sofa.
    ‘You aren’t going to take up smoking, are you?’ Hetty’s mother sat up sharply. ‘It’s dreadfully bad for the skin. Especially for older women.’
    Hetty and Sally exchanged glances, then both smiled. It was the first time any of them had smiled. Hetty relaxed a little and munched a cracker. ‘About as likely as Proust, Mother. That’s not an issue,’ she answered, and was careful to make her voice soothing.
    ‘Staying single,’ Sally prompted. ‘Is that definitely the game plan?’
    ‘I don’t know. But why not?’
    ‘You can’t manage on your own. Nobody could, in your circumstances.’
    ‘Your grandmother does. Has for years,’ Hetty answered, with a nod in the older woman’s
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