A family event my nephew had got engaged. He held a party at his apartment. We were all invited.
Husband and I collected Laura. We told her to behave with her consumption of alcohol. We parked the car near to Nephew’s flat and walked to his door carrying gifts. I walked behind Laura. She was wearing a fur coat and high heels. It pained my heart to see how skinny her legs had become, with sores on her ankles from wearing too tight ankle straps.
The night before, Laura had gone on with a suitable prospect. I asked her how the date went. ‘Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,’ she said.
‘Why? What happened?’
‘Nothing, just not my type.’
We greeted and kissed my nephew, kissed his fiancé too. We accepted drinks, wine for Laura. I shot her the look – one she was familiar: moderate your alcohol intake.
We sat around the room and chatted, mingled with different guests. My father, with strong opinions on how one should behave, sat opposite Laura. She still had her fur coat on. Her head was bent over her mobile phone, busy texting, having the odd chuckle. Father shot me a look. He expected me to take the phone off her, as if she were a two-year old.
Laura told me much later, the texter was the man from the night before. He would not leave her alone, though she responded to each text.
The reason the date did not go well? She was drunk when he collected her. Laura fell asleep in the pub. She was annoyed with him for waking her.
Laura had demanded The Date take her home.