IS THIS YOURS?

“Sorry I’m late honey.” He plonked himself down on the seat beside her and gave her a quick and slightly awkward peck on the cheek. They had been going out for three months but still had not sorted out that initial greeting. “I have lost my mobile. I’ve looked everywhere. I give up. Unless it’s at mums.”
“It’s alright,” she replied. “I was just reading a message from a friend. She reminded me of a lover I once had.”
“We’re going to talk about the past now are we,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I thought all that was verboten!”
“Nothing is forbidden Mark. Not really.”
“So tell me about him,” he said, edging a bit closer for intimacy. “Assuming it was a him. Not that lesbian phase.” Charlotte looked at him coolly. She neither smiled nor looked annoyed.
“After the lesbian phase,” she said, deadpan. Mark had been joking of course and he put the reply down to her dry wit.
“And?” he prompted.
“He was one of the few I dumped. Usually it is me who is getting the old heave hoe. Not that it’s happened that often.” She looked down at her drink. Mark saw that it had hardly been touched.
“Looks like it’s still your round,” he observed. “Mine’s a bitter.”
“You missed my round Mark.” He smiled congenially and got up to go to the bar. He gave her the I’m offering you a drink but I know you won’t really want one yet look which she shook her head at.
“I’ll be back in a mo,” he said and headed off.
A couple of minutes later he had returned and taken a seat opposite her. It wasn’t as intimate but he could see her better. He was looking forward to hearing about the looser she had dumped. He might even learn something.
“He used to wear the same socks day in and day out until the whole bedroom stunk.”
“Oh come on,” Mark retorted. “I do that. You are not going to fire me for that.” He realised immediately the slip of the tongue. Charlotte didn’t seem to notice.
“And it wasn’t just his feet,” she continued oblivious. “His pits, were the pits.”
“Yeah!” he agreed. “Sometimes on the tube… There was this guy last week. Fuck only knows what he’d been eating. Aquaphobic.”
“Is that a word?” she said engaging him for the first time directly with her eyes. “Deoderphobic too.”
“I hate those sprays,” Mark said. “They make your clothes all white.”
“Plus,” she continued, “he seemed to have an unhealthy relationship with his mother.”
“Oh shit!” Mark spluttered. “That’s gross. How long did that relationship last?”
“Until she dies I suppose.”
“Not with the mum. Between you and him.”
“Let’s see,” she said looking up into the middle distance, remembering it all again. “Three or four months I suppose.”
“I hope I last a hell of a lot longer than that,” he smiled.
“But what really did it for me Mark,” she continued without missing a beat, “was him being a liar. If you are going to have deceit in a relationship it has to be by mutual consent, right? No good one of you being all open and honest while the other scurries around all cloak and daggers.” Mark looked at her and wondered if the unease growing in him was showing in his eyes. “Oh! By the way,” she went on, starting to rummage around in her handbag. ”Did you say you lost your mobile?”
“Well yes,” he said, peering down into her bag. Suddenly she stopped.
“And another thing,” she said, looking up to gaze earnestly into his eyes. “It turned out he was fucking his ex the whole time?” Mark felt the icy finger of fate trace a path, from the nape of his neck, down his spine, to his scrotum. His bowls loosened. “Is this it?” she said flourishing is Nokia.
“Oh Charlotte,” he said. “Of course it fucking is. Where did you find it?” She leant over and tossed the machine into the faux fire, at the same time getting to her feet and blocking his way to his melting mobile.
“Now fuck off,” she said. “And take that meddling mother of yours with you.”