Returning I asked Mum if there were any men in her life.
“If only Ian,”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve not really got the opportunity”
“Here for example?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it here – it would get too complicated if it didn’t work out and anyway I like the pub too much!”
“Sounds like you’re not that bothered Mum”
“No not really, not yet anyway – it’s too close to your Father.”
“What about just fun Mum?”
“You cheeky bugger. Not sure I should even reply to that.” But she did.
“I certainly wouldn’t even think about that here with anyone I vaguely knew.”
“Well some of them are keen by what I can see.” I thought I’d push the boat a bit.
“What the hell do you mean?” at the same time blushing ever so slightly and taking another gulp of wine.
“They like looking at your,” hesitating and changing what I would say, I added, “up your skirt.”
“You are a beasty Ian (reflecting her Glasgow background with a typical phrase not common in London). But it’s good to know there’s still a spark.”
“In them or in you?”
“Both.” Avoiding the specific.
“I’m glad to hear it because it’s certainly apparent to me that you haven’t lost your spark”
“I should really be flattered by that I suppose?”
Mum had finished her glass and said she wanted to get the next round. I had had two pints, yet the beer was great (much better than the piss from where I lived). So we both set ourselves up for another.
She went to the bar to order. I watched her warmth to the barman and a regular, chatting easily. Once they looked over at me. I avoided eye contact without appearing rude. Mum returned placed the drinks down and said she needed to pee. I wondered what she told them about me, a son, a friend, a boy friend (she did not look her age). On her return, she regaled me with their inquisitiveness about me.
“What did you tell them then”?
“I just said you were a friend.” Blushing again just a little.
“Why?”
“You haven’t changed have you Ian – still straight to the jugular.”
“Don’t get me wrong Mum, I don’t mind at all – perhaps I should be flattered this time. Actually, I rather like the idea. It gives us more freedom here and it is your local, though they may get the wrong impression if they see me going into your home.”
“Ian, they don’t know where I live, it’s not that near and we didn’t come here when you lived here.”
“Here’s to our friendship.” Mum just smiled. I respected her right to determine her life at the same time wondering what it might mean.
At home we watched TV for awhile and I got the benefit of thigh exposed. I didn’t know if it was intentional. I decided to go to bed before exposing a growing hardon. After going to the bathroom for a welcome pee, I went into my bedroom. I recalled how we had all left our doors ajar in the past, so I adhered to that practice at least when I was going to sleep. So when working on my laptop I usually closed the door having brought all my necessary gear with me for seamless work and pleasure particularly early on when I was getting used again to being there.
If I left the door open, the screen was not visible from the door and so Mum could not view accidentally what I may have on the screen. I tended to use earphones when I might want to view something erotic with sound. The laptop was on a desk that could also not be viewed from the door.
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