What are long summer evenings made for, if not cocktails in the garden? This is what we call ‘a grown-up’ girls night. I think. Yes, it is we’re thirty; it’s definitely grown-up. It was actually supposed to be a girl’s night out; I’d been bracing myself for it for days. Quite literally preparing myself for the onslaught of twenty something girls and forty something divorcees. It’s like falling in between two stools only I imagine them sticky from last nights drink and me landing with my ass in the air. Be it fate or fluke, one sick baby and yet another broken heart later we’re in the garden snacking on roasted beans and sipping something potent. What’s the difference between a grow-up girls night and a younger one? Not much. We’re out of jammies (well, most of us – late callers running away from husbands don’t really count), snacks consist of more than a packet of Walkers being tossed at you and we’ve come the great distance from the bedroom all the way out to the garden. There’s only rule, everyone brings a bottle, or two.
A table of food, two rounds of Moscow mules later and the doorbell rings. There’s my good friend Suzie standing in her pyjamas with a bottle of champagne in her hand. Now if this were any other girl, on any other night, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised but Suzie was meant to be at home with her loving hubby and two sleeping babies. Turns out even the best of men have their moments. So she swiped the Sky card, grabbed their drink for the evening and snuck out of the house while he was putting the kids to bed. First he knew of it, the tv wasn’t working and he was stuck with last nights dying coke. She ignored the ringing phone, sat down and popped the cork.
Now we have it all, two separated women, one single and one married. This can only mean laughs. Big, tear spilling, stomach hurting laughs that keep on coming. Never more so than when Leah, in her usual nonchalant manner was talking about the phone sex she’d been having with a Tinder ‘maybe’ guy and Suzie pipes up – ‘What is Tinder?’ I think there was a moment’s aghast silence before the laughter broke and all I could think was, that says it all. I used to be you and now I’m me. The new me, the one that’s crossed over to the other side. Tinder is yet to be added my ‘to do’ list but at least I now know what it is. This is the journey, one step at a time.