Part 1 (2/2)

*I think I may love you,' Gabby says happily. *Although your point of reference probably stops at thirty-five. At your age you can't imagine there is anyone older.'

*Bulls.h.i.+t! And I'm not that young. There's hardly anything between us.'

*Let me guess.' Her eyes run over his face, taking in the smoothness of his skin, the sharp definition of his cheeks and jaw, the lack of lines. She thinks of Elliott: his hair now more grey than brown, the deep lines around his eyes when he smiles, his physique, once so toned, now soft and cuddly, comfortable.

Everything about Matt shouts youth. His jeans, his scuffed-up brown boots. His tucked-in blue s.h.i.+rt that gives hints of intensive working-out rather than the outline of a paunch, like she is used to seeing in Elliott, and in most of the men she knows.

*I think you're twenty-seven,' she says.

*I knew you thought I was younger. For your information, I'm thirty-three. See, we're not so far apart.'

*You may think that now, but wait until you're forty-three and you look back at how much you changed over those ten years.'

He gazes at her over his gla.s.s. *How have you changed over ten years?'

*Seriously?'

He nods, calling the bartender over and ordering another Martini for her, giving her pause to think.

For the truth is that not much has changed in the last ten years. Ten years ago she was married to Elliott, as she is now, only with smaller children. They lived in a different neighbourhood. She drove an old Cherokee. Her life was pre-school and playdates, coffees with women she hardly sees any more. She had fewer lines, less grey hair, was fifteen pounds lighter.

If she thinks back to the years before that, though, to eighteen or twenty years ago, she knows that a lot has changed. Back then she cared about dressing up and going out. Twenty years ago she made an effort, wanting to be popular, pretty, invited to people's houses for dinner. She and Elliott would go camping, up in Vermont. They hiked, and skied. Now it is all she can do to make herself go for a walk.

What has happened since those days? When did life become so ... she won't use the word *dull', chooses instead to use *pots and pans'? How did she and Elliott drift so seamlessly into middle age, and where did all that energy go?

She can't tell all that to this stranger and decides instead to share the positives.

*I am more comfortable in my skin. Turning forty was a turning point. I stopped needing to prove myself to anyone. I probably ought to make more of an effort,' she says, gesturing to her friends, all of whom now make more of an effort, and are currently at the other end of the bar with a new group of men. *But I love that it doesn't matter to me any more.'

*I think you look great,' Matt says evenly. There is not a hint of flirtation in his voice, and yet, as he says it, he holds her gaze until she looks away, feeling something inside her give a slight jolt.

Don't be ridiculous, she tells herself. There is no way in h.e.l.l this lovely young boy is flirting with me. I have no idea what just happened; I only know that whatever it was is in my imagination.

Gabby covers her embarra.s.sment with a forced bark of laughter. *My friends over there?' she says, nodding towards them. *They look great.'

He glances over before turning back to Gabby with a dismissive shake of his head. *No. To me they all look overdone. Too much make-up, too much hair, too much flounce. I prefer my women natural. Like you.' There it is. That gaze again.

Grateful for the low lighting, Gabby blushes as she says thank you, jumping as the phone in her back pocket starts to vibrate. She pulls it out to see Elliott's name on the screen.

*It's my husband,' she says, hopping off the stool. *I'll be right back.'

Threading through the crowds, she breathes a sigh of relief. Even if she was imagining it, she has not led him on. She told him she is married. That should put him off, if, indeed, there is anything to put off. Which there couldn't possibly be.

*Hi, honey!' She sits down on a low stone wall outside, aware suddenly that she is not as sober as she had thought. *Are you having fun?'

*Not as much fun as it sounds like you're having!' Elliott laughs, and Gabby starts. What does he mean? How does he know she's been talking to Matt? But it's only talking. How does he know?

*What do you mean?' she says slowly, attempting to sound as sober as possible, knowing Elliott will know.

*First of all it was noisy as h.e.l.l when you picked up; secondly, I know you're having a girls' night out tonight; and thirdly, you're drunk, and don't try to deny it because I always know. I can hear it in your voice.'

Gabby laughs. *You're right. I'm stopping now.'

*What are you drinking?'

*Martinis.'

*Aha! Just remember that Martinis are like a woman's b.r.e.a.s.t.s: one is too few, three is too many.'

*I'm on two and done.'

*Who's driving?'

*Ella. How's the camping? How are the girls?'

*They're having the best time. They've gone swimming in the lake with Sasha and Jolie, and they're dying to get to the smores later. This was a great idea, even though we miss you.'

*I miss you too,' Gabby says, out of habit, although she hasn't thought about Elliott for much more than a second since he left early this morning.

*And you were right to suggest I do this with Tim. Not that you and I wouldn't have a great time, but I know you feel a bit done with sleeping bags and tents.'

Gabby laughs again. *d.a.m.n right. What time are you home tomorrow?'

*Not until mid-afternoon, I think. You go and have fun with the girls. I love you.'

*I love you too.'

Gabby walks back inside, seeing Matt through the crowds, her empty stool next to him. As she moves towards the bar he turns and watches her, smiling, and she feels another jolt.

Don't be pathetic, she thinks. Don't think this is something other than a nice guy who's bored and lonely, eager to have a friendly face to talk to. Not that I wouldn't be enormously flattered if he was flirting, but look at me! Look at him, now look at me again. Even if he is flirting, which he isn't, there would be no point. I'm happily married to the loveliest man in the world. But if he is flirting, even though he's not, it would be nice to feel attractive again. It would be nice to feel that I still have it, even if it's only for three more minutes.

*Gabby?' Her arm is grabbed, and she spins to find herself face to face with Claire. *Who is that adorable guy at the bar? I can't believe you've been flirting with someone all evening! We haven't seen you at all!'

*I'm not flirting,' Gabby says, certain that she is not. *I don't flirt. I don't know how to flirt any more. I'm just having a really interesting conversation with a sweet young guy.'

*He's not sweet.' Claire glances at him. *He's a stone-cold fox!'

*Right.' Gabby nods. *And he's twelve.'

Claire squints as she looks across the room. *He's not twelve. He's at least twenty-five. Old enough to know what he's doing ...'

*Claire!' Gabby reprimands. *For a start, he's ten years younger than me, and secondly, h.e.l.lo? I'm married. Remember?'

<script>