looking at me now. How amazing, etcetera. And he said, ‘It was alright, I suppose.’”
“That’s it?” asks Kelly.
“Yes. In fact, to be completely accurate, what he said was, ‘S’alright, I suppose.’”
“To be fair,” says Josie, “Frank wouldn’t be that interested in baby orang-utans. His favourite part of the trip would be the cocktails and getting a good tan on the beach.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “Not his choice of trip. But travel was the thing G3 said he was into. And not beach travel. Adventure. Jungles. Trekking. Wildlife. Travel was pretty much his only hobby. But when it came down to it, there was no enthusiasm, no embracing the memory. I seem to meet so many men like that. They’re all, ‘So what?’ and I’m all, ‘Ooh, wow, look!’ The balance is off.”
“You need a ‘Wow, look at that!’ type of guy,” says Ella.
“I do. I really do. Is it too much to ask? Am I being super fussy?”
“Honestly, Jen?” This is Josie with her sympathy for singles tone again. “I think you might be. My book choice this time and it’s a newbie! Sorry, but it was a Christmas gift and I need to read it. Matthew Green, Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend.
Chapter Two
Ella
My phone rang earlier in the week. Jen.
“I need a big favour. You know this old guy I met? Kelly told you about him?”
Jen knows Kelly and I talk about everything when it’s quiet at Buxton and Balding’s. She doesn’t mind. Bless her.
“Well, he’s sixty-five on Saturday and he’s bought eight tickets for the Rod Stewart tribute concert at Taronga Zoo. One of his mates’ wives has broken a hip and she’s in hospital so she can’t go. His two useless grown-up kids and their flaky partners have dropped out. There are five spare tickets. Josie and Frank are coming. Will you and Ben? And Charlie?”
“Not Kelly?”
“She’s doing some food tour thing in Surry Hills with Lucy. Please come. It must be horrible to be old and have friends who get sick, and nasty kids who let you down.”
“How much is it?”
“He’s bought the tickets, he doesn’t want any money.”
“Well, firstly, how nice are you doing this for him when he told you such fibs about himself? And secondly, free tickets? You’re on. Who’s bringing what for the picnic? Is it still bring your own booze there?”
“No, they changed that. But thanks, El. It will be fun and I couldn’t see him without a few people to celebrate.”
Kelly looks after Lucy, and Jen looks after this old guy, whoever he is. Seriously, how kind are my friends? Women are such doers. Such fixers. So ‘Let’s go have fun!’. I was daydreaming the other day about winning the Lotto and the four of us having a trip to that orang-utan sanctuary. Ben could have Charlie for the week and we would have the girls’ trip of a lifetime.
Anyway, no Lotto win for me, but free tickets to fake (looky-likey, my mum calls it) rockin’ Rod Stewart. I can’t believe Frank and Josie are coming. No doubt the appeal for him is the free tickets. Me? I just want to spread the love like Kelly and Jen. Ha.
So, here we are despite shaky-looking skies at Taronga Zoo concert lawn.
“Ella! Charlie!” Josie calls us. She got here early and staked us a great spot with two picnic blankets.
“‘Osie!” Charlie tumbles down the grassy bank to greet her. I hope he doesn’t trip. Of all my friends, Josie is Charlie’s favoured one. She gives him attention. The others are bored by him. I get it. I get bored too. Not Josie. She has endless time for Charlie and I’m quite sure it isn’t for my benefit. Frank, on the other hand, is visibly shuffling away from my child. Rude fucker.
“‘Osie! I had loclat!”
“You did? Ooh, sticky little paws, sweetheart. Does Mummy have some wet wipes?”
“Sorry, Jos. Emergency application of Kinder Surprise egg. He thought he was going to see the monkeys - went berserk when I told him no.”
“Did he not realise the zoo is closed?” This is Frank, of course. Thank God he doesn’t want kids.
“He’s three, sweetheart.”
For this very reasonable point, Frank gives Josie one of those scathing looks he has only for Josie. The ones that make me want to punch him.
“He’s got mess on your dress, Ella? Wet wipes?”
Oh, piss off. I’d like to wet wipe you off the face of the earth. Ooh, I can see Jen approaching with the old guy. He’s ancient! Bloody hell. He has his ancient mate with him – presumably the one with the wife with the broken hip. Bless. He is grinning like crazy.
“Hello, me ducks! And who’s this little smasher?”
Charlie is clinging to Josie with his very short-lived stranger danger habit. In about a minute old guy will be his new best friend.
“Jesus, Ella! Wet wipes! Quick! Look at Josie’s dress!”
“Why is it ‘Ella! Wet wipes!’? Why not holler, ‘Ben! Wet wipes!’ hm?”
“‘Cos Ben’s going to the bar with... sorry, what’s your name, mate? Thanks for the tickets, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, son. We’ll have a right laugh. Call me SB. This is Fred.”
God, Ben is such a peacemaker! Is it too much to ask to not be seen as a wet wipe dispenser? Is it? Okay, I’ll drop it and be nice to the old blokes, but seriously. Ben and the olds depart to the bar.
“Ella, did I tell you Frank and I are going to Bali? We’re going to Bali, Charlie! Frankie and I will be on the beach!”
“I like the beach! Can I come, ‘Osie? Can I ‘Osie? ‘Osie, Charlie come too?”
“No,” mutters Frank. Idiot. I’d rather leave my child with Osama Bin Laden than him. “I’m just off to the bathroom, Josie.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” says Josie, who then turns to Jen. “Did you really meet him online?”
“He looked a bit different on the website. You do realise I’m not dating him, don’t you?”
“One day your prince will come,” says Josie, dabbing at her chocolate stains.
“Maybe he’ll be wearing Gucci loafers to a picnic, just like Prince Frank!”
“Ella! Frank likes a more formal style. Don’t be mean.”
“Yes, at least he is wearing shoes,” says Jen. “We went to pick up Fred and he came out in his slippers! I think he has a bit of dementia, to be honest. He keeps calling me Maureen. SB met Maureen online a few weeks ago.”
“Fred, Maureen, slippers,” I say. “These are words I don’t associate with you, Jen. You have aged. Can you not be a cougar find some young guy instead of such a crusty one?”
“SB is not my guy!”
Ben, Fred and SB come back with the drinks. Seems Fred has been telling Ben all about the ‘I almost came out in my slippers!’ incident. Ben is laughing away and, unexpectedly, I feel a huge rush of love for him. Jen’s online search has found crazies and oldies. Josie worships Frank who is horrible to her half the time. Ben might not be a prince (which of us is a princess?), and who really wants a man who thinks he is? Some narcissistic, full of himself Gucci loafer-wearing tool like Frank. A few years