Ladies wholunch

Claire and Audrey are out. It’s wine o’clock. And their waiter is drop dead gorgeous...

Did I tell you that Nigel offered me one-to-one tuition?” I asked Audrey casually.

“Isthatthetutoratyourwriting class?” asked Audrey, feigning disinterest as she picked up the Bistro menu.

“Mmm. And for one nanosecond I almost considered his offer.”

Audrey giggled and rolled her eyes. “You know he’s married and has a reputation with women of a certain age.”

“Probably thinks we’re desperate – and believe me, I would be to go for him! Whereas that young waiter…”

We were having our weekly lunch at Rossini’s. Audrey appraised Carlo, the waiter, and sighed.

“In your dreams, Claire!” “You bet in my dreams! Now, if I was 20 years younger…Isn’t it ironic that now I don’t give a fig for my reputation, all the men I could fancy are far too young. I’d love to grow old disgracefully – be a cougar. Isn’t that what they call older women with young lovers?” I mimed a snarl and clawed the air. Audrey arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been a little disgraceful all your life! Or at least unconventional.You’ve never been one to sink into the background fashion-wise.” She cast a look at my hippy skirt, pony-tailed hair and sun-tanned cleavage. “And not many people can boast of three ex-husbands.”

“I don’t boast.You know Ray and I were far too young. Steve the gambler was a big mistake, of course, and then Martin was rather ancient, but by then I was looking for security.”

“Mmm, and you got it.” “Poor Martin.Twenty years older, but it was still unexpected. You see – our age gap was hardly commented on.Whereas young men, older women…”

Carlo had materialised between us and I found myself drowning in his unfathomable brown eyes.

“What would you recommend, Carlo?”Audrey asked loudly.

“Señora might like the risotto al frutti di mare…is delicious, chef’s speciality.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off me.What with his accent, and the way he kissed his fingers, I felt my insides melt.

“That sounds wonderful, Carlo.” The words came out in a hoarse whisper as I had a piece of breadstick caught in my throat. I hoped I sounded seductive.

“Make that two,” said Audrey, kicking me under the table. Carlo collected the menus with a flourish and we admired his rear view as he sauntered away.

“Gaining a reputation starts here, then?”Audrey said.“For heaven’s sake, Claire, he’s a walking, talking cliché.”

“Yes, and isn’t he wonderful? I wonder if he’s a genuine gigolo?”

Aware that I, too, was in danger of acting like a foolish stereotype, I steered the conversation back to age.

“Seriously, it is getting difficult to define ‘old’ these days. I’m a 60-year-old widow, and I’ve a lot more life in me yet.”

“Well, I read the other day that 60 is the new 40, so here’s to us.”Audrey was 61 and had been happily married to Reg for 40 years. He was still “full of life”, she said with a wink.

“Well exactly! And I’m still ‘full of life’ and still have an urge to express it! Such a pity about those senior moments.” I lowered my voice.“Do you know I found my mobile in the fridge yesterday?”

“I shouldn’t worry, we all get forgetful. By the way, did you know you are wearing one enormous dangly gold earring, and one pearl stud?”

“Of course,” I lied.

When Carlo brought our risottos, I gazed in awe as he flourished a giant pepper mill and expertly dispensed a fine dusting over my meal. “Have you no shame?”Audrey hissed.

“None whatsoever,” I said, returning Carlo’s flirtatious smile. “Actually, all this has given me an idea for my next story. Nigel says that inspiration is all around us, and Carlo is very inspiring.”

Fast forward 18 months and we are back at the Bistro celebrating the publication of my first erotic novel, set in Naples. It is flying off the shelves.

“I’d never have guessed you could write such scorching love scenes! Makes Fifty Shades seem quite tame.”Audrey giggles as Carlo brings the champagne.

“Do get a glass, dear, and join us,” I say.“Your advice from the Italian perspective was invaluable.” Audrey turns fifty shades of pink.“You didn’t!”

I claw the air and purr softly.

For more great stories log on to myweekly. co.uk/category/ fiction/