Page 11 of In the Same Boat

He raises an eyebrow.

‘Go on…’

I nod vaguely towards the poster.

‘Something more… targeted.’

He turns, squinting slightly to read it.

‘Over-fifties?’ he says. ‘You’re joking.’

‘I’m not,’ I reply.

‘That’s not me,’ he says.

‘It’s quite literally you,’ I remind him.

He huffs. I don’t say anything for a moment. I give the idea a chance to sink in.

‘You’re closer to fifty than you are to this,’ I point out.

‘You’re not that far off either,’ he replies.

I’m thirty-four – young enough to be (and actually be) his son.

He studies the poster again.

‘No pressure,’ he reads aloud. ‘That sounds like we’re all desperate.’

Is he not? I know I’m desperate for him to find someone.

We stand there for a moment, both looking at it.

‘You really think I should go to that?’ he asks.

‘I think,’ I say carefully, ‘that it might be more your pace.’

‘My pace,’ he repeats.

‘People in the same stage of life,’ I say. ‘People who are expecting you. No more pretending to be my mate instead of my dad.’

He looks at me.

‘You’re both – but it’s not coming across that way when you talk to people.’

‘Fair,’ he replies. ‘Will you come with me?’

‘If that’s what it takes to get you there,’ I say. ‘Why not?’

He glances at me, something amused flickering across his face.

‘You’re serious.’

‘I am,’ I reply. ‘Hopefully the music will be quieter.’

‘And you say I’m old,’ he says with a laugh. ‘Come on then, you’ve been a good lad, I’ll buy you a McDonald’s on the way home.’

I laugh too.