The further adventures of Stan -5

Now that I am getting into this writing business, I can hardly stop myself. It was Stan who got me going. He said that all the time he was living at Minnie's house he was writing it all down. He let me read some bits of his writing, which now that he has use of Jeremy's computer, he has typed up. He said that writing clears your head and makes sense of things, and somehow helps you learn from your own introspection.

I said I didn't want anyone to read what I wrote, because if I felt like somebody else was judging what I had done, and I was worried they might not approve, I probably wouldn't be honest in my writing.

He said that writing was usually done as a form on communication, which implied that you were sharing what you wrote with somebody else, but that people wrote diaries all the time, not intending to share them. This was just the same sort of thing, but not in diary format.

Our lives went on much as usual, and I did my church related activities and met with my friends as I always had. I had arranged my life so that most of my days were full of some activity or other. My daughters kept their opinions regarding Stan to themselves, which I was very pleased about. I don't like confrontation, and I knew that if Sarah brought up the subject, it would mean that we would have very differing opinions.

My friends noticed first, I suppose, that I seemed different somehow. Having Stan around – or having anyone around  – meant that I took more of an interest in how I looked. Without making a huge song and dance about it, I managed to lose some weight – which had crept up on me over the years since John had died. I went to various activity classes like Yoga and Keep Fit, and tried to whittle down my waist line. I perhaps chose clothes with fashion rather than just comfort being a prime consideration. When I went to my hairdresser, I experimented with an auburn shade, which completely hid the beginnings of grey in my hair.

As far as our conversations went, I took note of the sorts of things that interested Stan, and managed to read up on his favourite football team, so that when they were playing, I knew a bit more about who the main players were, and what sort of record of wins they had. I didn't deliberately set out to try to be younger, not consciously anyway, but I felt younger, and looked younger. Everyone commented on how good I looked.

Stan too noticed, which pleased me. “I'm surprised you haven't got yourself another bloke,” he said once. “Your husband has been dead a long time now, and you have got lots of years left in you. Why don't you see if you can snag yourself a good guy. I'm sure there's some old geezer out there who would fancy you.”

“Old geezer? Is that all I can look forward to?” I asked with a laugh.

“I was even wondering if you might not do for Fred – being in the same sort of age group and all.”

I'd never met Fred, but Stan talked about him quite a bit, especially after they had been out for a drink together. It amused me, but also kind of annoyed me, if I am honest, that Stan was thinking about matching me up with Fred or anyone else for that matter. I didn't really need another man in my life. I liked making my own decisions and having things how I liked. Having been married to a controlling man for all those years, I now appreciated being able to think for myself. And yet, if I was honest, I knew my happiness was directly related to having Stan in my life. He didn't tell me what to think or do, but I took on board his opinion when I was concerned about something. It was nice having someone to share one's news with – and just having someone around to share life with. But I didn't want someone like Fred. I wanted someone like Stan. I wanted Stan.

Then I blushed when I realised what I had been thinking. I wanted a person in my life in a permanent way who was young enough to be my child. But did I want to marry him? Goodness, what a thought. He's only 21 – he has his entire life in front of him, and I am thinking of tying him down to a woman who is well past her prime, no matter how much better I have made myself look and feel. How selfish! I was ashamed that the thought had even occurred to me. Maybe my obsession with Stan was due to the lack of a man in my life – and the solution would be found in looking for another man. Stan was thinking of pairing me off with Fred – who he said was of a similar age to me – so he wasn't thinking of settling down with me in any sort of permanent way.

So having finally put it all down in black and white, I thought that the only way to solve this dilemma was to distance myself more from Stan – and to find a substitute man who I could concentrate on, and perhaps in time, the new man would cure me of this silly schoolgirl infatuation. How inappropriate could you get!!

So when Stan said he was going to the pub the following Friday, I asked him, “Are there women of my age on their own at the pub?”

“Gosh, I don't know,” he said. “Did you want to go?”

“Not really, but I was taking on board about what you said the other night about me maybe finding somebody else now that my husband has been dead for such a long time. But I don't really know any suitable men. The ones from church are either married or they don't appeal to me. I don't really know how to go about meeting somebody new. That's why I asked. On the TV, women go into pubs and get chatted up by all sorts of men.”

“Yes, but they are probably going there looking for a one night stand, not a rest of your life partner,” he said. “I'll keep a look  out tonight, and see what sorts of older women are there, and also if they are lucky to get partnered up by the end of the night.”

“That's good. But don't be obvious about it. And don't tell anyone else what you're doing.”

“Don't worry. It will be research, and conducted in a very professional way.”