Lunch out

Saturday 13th January 2007

Today is Saturday again. Morning after. As I write, the famine's at an end: Martin bounced out of bed and even pinched my bottom! It was quite endearing - for a moment he looked 23 again. All this makes me feel like recapturing the magic feeling of anticipation and freedom the word ‘weekend’ used to represent, centuries ago in Cape Town when we were madly in love and used to follow a night of heady passion with a relaxed brunch out somewhere chic and full of beautiful people, looking good and feeling great, before a jaunty afternoon stroll on the beach. Then home to more sex! Soooo NOT London and our current lifestyle, it jars. But, ‘autre pays, autre meurs’, they say in French meaning what you do in Cape Town you can’t do in London, and vice-versa. Anyway, standing in front of my wardrobe, I decide to glam it up a bit, hoping vaguely to coerce Martin into taking us out for lunch: a real possibility after last night and the good mood he’s in today. I can hear him laughing with Angel in the next room. Ultimately, I might end up all dressed-up with nowhere to go but, for once, I can’t face yet another pair of jeans. As for the meal, I’ve decided on a pricey but authentic new dim-sum restaurant I’ve been reading about, only a short drive away. Ignoring the fact that my children, fussy eaters, will probably go hungry.

I packed raspberry flavoured soya desserts and organic raisin boxes in my favourite Orla Kiehly shoulder bag, together with the bibs, change of clothes for Angel and the spare pull-up nappies. Mini crayolas, folded pages ripped from colouring books, jolly phonics cards and pocket Beatrix Potter and Sportacus books which kept them occupied when they’d finished pulling apart the steamed tiger prawn shitake and water chestnut parcels, and spitting out the miniature egg custard tarts (which I thought, wrongly, might be child-friendly). I did enjoy the lunch myself, though…even if I did break my New Year’s diet…