Boy did I. I’d never forget the time we went for dinner at an Italian restaurant.
Erin had missed lunch and had a difficult day then too. The daggers she gave the poor waiter as he placed her lasagne down on the table. ‘I thought this place served traditional food!’ she said. Demanding to know why her meal was devoid of béchamel sauce, Erin clearly found the proffered version offensive and while the poor young lad stuttered trying to come up with an acceptable response, Erin verged on crying into her plate.
I didn’t know who evoked the most pity. The waiter or my friend.
‘These hot flushes aren’t helping,’ Erin continued. ‘You might be young and carefree now, Hattie, but just you remember, you’ll be my age before you know it. This perimenopause malarky wreaks havoc on a woman. Rule number one, always wear layers.’
When Erin went on one of her hormonal rants, I’d long learned the best thing I could do to help was let her vent.
‘Today’s was a corker. My whole being was melting. And you know what men are like. They have zero understanding. You’d have thought I’d asked everyone to line up and jump out of the window, not open the damn thing.’
‘And did they?Openit, I mean.’
‘After some gentle persuasion, yes.’
I struggled to imagine Erin being gentle over anything.
‘I said if they refused, I’d be stripping down to nothing but my birthday suit. At which point they were fighting to let the cold air in. I’ve never seen a bunch of men move so fast. No doubt, I’ll be getting a call from HR on account of somehow triggering one of them.’ Erin laughed. ‘Fingers crossed, it’s Callum. The telling off would be worth it. Anyway, I’d better go. My hormones are raging just thinking about it all.’
‘Erin?’ I said, before she hung up.
‘Yes.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you call me for a reason?’
‘I did.’
‘And that reason was?’
‘Good question. I’ll text you once I remember.’
I chuckled.
‘Something else you have to look forward to,’ Erin said. ‘Brain fog.’ Her face lit up. ‘That was it. I called to wish you luck.’
My smile continued. As overbearing as Erin could sometimes be, her heart was in the right place. ‘Thank you. For everything.’
‘Not a problem. Now you go and sort your hair out.’
No sooner had Erin disappeared, my phone rang again. Seeing it was a voice call from Gideon, I put him on loudspeaker. ‘I take it you’re in the drinks aisle?’ Retrieving a couple of glasses from the cupboard, I carried them over to the table. ‘I’m thinking either a Chardonnay or a Pinot Noir.’
‘Yeah, about that…’
Placing the glassware down, my smile vanished.
‘I’ve got to work late.’
Telling myself my boyfriend had to be joking, I plonked down into a dining chair. ‘Tonight’s date night, Gideon. We agreed. You even put it in your diary.’
‘I know. But what can I say? It’s not like I’m happy about it either. I mean, do you really think I’d still be here if I had a choice?’
The number of hours Gideon spent at the office of late, I was starting to think yes, he would. ‘And what about us? Do we even figure in your list of priorities?’
‘You know we do. But most people don’t have the luxury of being their own boss, Hattie. We can’t all come and go as we please.’
I screwed up my face wondering why he was so het up. I was the one being let down. ‘What? I’m supposed to feel lucky Gran died now, am I?’
‘No. Of course not.’ Gideon sighed. ‘Please, I’m sorry. That came out wrong.’
