and said ‘ Mark, we don’t do manual workers. We hire them to undertake tasks for us but we don’t sleep with them and we certainly don’t go out with them’.
Mark didn’t know which was worse. What she’d said was bad enough but the way she’d said it was something else. Her accent certainly wasn’t the one she’d grown up with in Wythenshawe, the largest social housing estate in Europe. But of course that little detail was carefully airbrushed out of any of her conversations.
‘ Lynne, do you know me at all?’
‘ What kind of a question is that? I’m your bezzy mate’.
‘ Then how could you get me so wrong?’
‘ Mark, I just feel that for you to go out with a builder is just not in keeping with someone who works at a bank. You’ll be a manager soon and move out to somewhere like Cheshire or Didsbury. Your neighbours won’t expect you to have a partner who’s working class’.
Mark was exasperated at her attitude. ‘ Lynne, you know very well that I don’t buy into all that bullshit. I live my life according to how I see fit and I don’t take decisions based on what other people might think’.
‘ I’m just saying … perhaps it’s just come out all wrong’.
‘ No, I think it’s come out just the way you wanted it to’.
They were sitting on a bench by one of the now disused waterways in the quays, snatching some sunshine whilst eating their sandwiches for lunch. On the other side were three very tall, very narrow, very modern apartment blocks, all glass and steel and looking oddly out of place dominating a skyline of sixties council blocks behind them.
‘ I think you should’ve stuck with Andrew’ said Lynne. ‘ You were too hasty with him. You should’ve let him explain’.
Mark threw his arms up in exasperation. ‘ I don’t believe you’ve just said that. Lynne, Andrew was married with three kids!’
‘ Yes, but he was a company director and … ‘
‘ … Lynne, I go out with the man not what he does!’
‘ But with people like Andrew you overlook their little … confusions’.
‘ Oh confusions my arse! He knew exactly what he was doing and you should feel sorry for his wife’.
‘ But Andrew has got money and position and status. He’s got a platinum American Express card and everything’.
‘ You are not for real! Lynne, I don’t dig for gold like you do’.
‘ What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘ Well you wouldn’t go out with Russell until you knew how much he earned and you certainly wouldn’t have let yourself get knocked up by him unless his wallet was big enough’.
‘ Oh excuse me!’
‘ You’re excused, for looking down on my boyfriend because of the job he does’.
Lynne didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Instead they sat in silence until Lynne cracked first.
‘ I didn’t realise you were this serious about him’
‘ Well I am so get used to it. I thought you’d be pleased for me’.
‘ I am, I’m just … I think you’d better tell me more about him’.
‘ Well if you were to walk into a room full of sportsmen and someone asked you to spot the rugby player you’d go straight for him’.
‘ He plays rugby?’
‘ Used to. He coaches a league team over at Worsley now. They’ve got a big match on Saturday, the penultimate game of the amateur league season and it’s brilliant because the team are at full strength, no injuries, whereas their opponents this week have got one of their wingers out of it with a broken toe and … ‘
‘ … yes, yes dear, whatever. Anyway, you’ll be putting a stop to all that rugby nonsense’.
‘ What?’
‘ He’s got you now and you decide what he does with his time’.
‘ No I
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