That Loving Feeling by Carole Matthews

Author:Carole Matthews
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781405523769
Publisher: Sphere
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 51

Tonight we’re going to meet my father’s new boyfriend. Oh, I can hardly bring myself to say those words. Even more of a stunner is that they’ve invited us to go to Wagamama. Now my dad’s eating noodles and using chopsticks. The world has truly gone mad. My mother would faint if she knew. In fact, she’d be more shocked that he was eating oriental food than she would be if she knew of his new sexual orientation.

I still haven’t broached the subject with her. But then she’s so wrapped up in the aging Arnold and the Meals for One pickup aisle that she doesn’t ever think to ask about my father’s welfare. He could be rotting away in his cable-knit cardigan in their old living room for all she cares.

Wagamama is busy and we find my dad and Samuel already waiting for us at one of the communal wooden benches. I’m not sure that this is my style of dining either and Rick definitely didn’t want to come here. My husband prefers food that you can eat with a knife and fork. Food that doesn’t make slurping sounds.

When I see my dad my heart melts though. He looks so well and is done up in his best shirt – open at the neck! This is the man who wears a tie to mow his lawn. This is the first time I’ve seen my father do casual in his entire life. And I have to say that it suits him. Samuel is sitting next to him and I don’t look too closely, but I swear that they’re holding hands underneath the table. I still find it hard to believe that my dad, who has harboured a life-long aversion to ‘nancy boys’, has become one himself.

‘Hello, love,’ he says.

‘Dad. Samuel.’

I lean across the table and kiss Dad on the cheek, then do the same to Samuel, who flushes. Rick shakes their hands in a particularly manly fashion. We order drinks and I note that my dad has a glass of red wine when he’s been a lifelong half a bitter man.

When our food comes, my dad struggles a bit to use the chopsticks.

‘Here, Francis. Let me help you, love.’And Samuel leans forward to help him, putting the little wooden sticks into my father’s old, bent hands and they giggle together like teenagers.

A lump comes to my throat and I can’t help but smile at them. Even Rick relaxes.

‘We’re thinking of taking a little trip to Italy,’ Dad tells me as he slurps his noodles noisily. ‘Samuel likes nothing better than to lose himself in Florence.’

Samuel the bookseller smiles his agreement.

I kick Rick under the table in case he thinks of making a joke about that.

‘Italy?’ I say.

They both nod in confirmation. Again, this is my father who has never, ever been out of this country – unless you count the Isle of Wight. He never liked to venture to foreign climes because they were full of foreigners who ate foreign food.

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