Take Jane for instance. After the party, we brought her home for coffee.At 2 am she was still at it, talking, talking, talking…
‘Well it’s not too bad. I get bored, but hey, I’m going to Italy in March!’‘I’m not worried, but God yes, it’s getting harder…’
‘Of course, the children think he’s disgusting too…’
‘This is his third marriage and there’s another child away.’
‘I’ve got a bit tucked away…’
‘He’s in Brighton. I don’t know what he’s on but …’
‘He’s an air-traffic controller.’
‘We move in different circles…’
‘I really should get some new glasses. The other night, driving home…’
‘Black horses standing in the road. Well, you just can’t see them…’
‘I’m surrounded by fields. It’s very rural where I am.’
‘My lodger’s called Len. He keeps himself to himself.’
‘The other night I came home and he’d made me Spaghetti Bolognaise!’
I’d like to say that this is where the conversation came full circle.
It didn’t. But it must have come to an end somewhere.
You could ring her now. Start her off all over again.