What I’m really thinking: the secret admirer

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jan/24/what-im-really-thinking-the-secret-admirer

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We met again recently after not having seen each other for 50 years. In the intervening years, we had each married, had our children, forged (or not) our careers. From time to time, as your uncle was married to my aunt, we heard news of each other.

I was curious about your wife. At university, where we sometimes used to bump into each other, I had fancied you. You always seemed keen to prolong our conversation and, once or twice, I thought you were on the verge of asking me out. In the event, you never did and, when you graduated before I had finished my course, we went our separate ways. I remember thinking, a little regretfully, that we were unlikely to meet again.

And now, after such a long gap, here we are, seated at adjoining tables, partaking of the refreshments offered after my aunt’s funeral. You catch my eye, smile, then pick up your cup and join me at my table, taking the only vacant seat. There follow a few reminiscences of my aunt, then you launch into a long recital of unconnected events of little interest to me. Politely, I nod and several times attempt to divert the flood, but this proves impossible: it seems you just can’t stop talking.

From the corner of my eye, I see your wife glance over and, once, half-rise and peer over at me, clearly wondering who the woman is who is engrossing her husband’s attention. She catches my eye and gives me a half-smile.

I smile back, but what I’m really thinking is, “Thank goodness he married her, not me!”

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