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Claire had been on stress leave for two months now and was living in a kind of daze. Across the cafe table, her daughter, Justine, eighteen years old, seemed so young and passionate, so vibrant.
"When you look ahead," Claire murmured, "eighteen years seems a lifetime away, but looking back it's like yesterday."
"How do you mean, Mum?"
"How do I mean? I'm not sure."
Another hot flush lit up Claire's face and she felt trickles of sweat sliding down her back. She tried not to focus on the feeling of slowly being drenched and stared out the window at the passers-by.
A beautiful woman entered the cafe. She was smartly groomed and slender, with shining blue eyes.
"Have you heard from Dad lately?" said Justine, looking at Claire over a large cup of cappuccino, poised delicately between both hands.
"No. But I saw him getting out of his car in town...with his floosie.
"Mum, how are you...really?"
"Excuse me," said the beautiful woman, approaching their table. "Would you ladies mind if I sit here? There's nowhere else."
"No, of course not," said Justine.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything private?"
"Not at all," Claire said. "We were just talking about my early-onset menopause."
"Were we?" whispered Justine.
"I'm Melanie Hartley-Smythe," said the woman.
"I'm Justine Fuller," replied Justine.
"I'm...." Claire hesitated. "Claire..."
No longer Dr Claire Fuller, eminent psychiatrist, authority on Women's Mental Health Issues. Just Claire, abandoned menopausal woman, on long-term stress leave.
"I'm Claire Menopause."
"Mum! You're so inappropriate!"
The woman laughed.
Claire looked at her, astonished to notice the finer wrinkles at close range, but age seemed to have passed her by. Can't be less than sixty but still looks young and beautiful.
"Menopause was the best time in my life," Melanie said. "Got rid of the monthly, had done my duty as a mother with children all flown the nest, started my own health and beauty consultancy and became my own woman."
She gazed at Claire, one eye-brow raised, then glanced at Justine, and looked around the room. "The lunch-timers are leaving. I'm intruding on private space, so I'll leave you two in peace." She pushed her chair back and stood.
"In pieces, more likely," said Justine. "Don't go, Melanie." She stretched out her hand to touch the other woman's. "I think Mum needs to talk to someone positive like you."
"Happy to," said the woman, flashing a lipsticky smile, and pulling in her chair with resolve. "Claire, my dear, you look like someone I used to be."
Claire cast a warning glance towards Justine, who was staring at Melanie, eyes wide, open mouthed. It wouldn't have surprised Claire if she'd reached out with her tongue to lick Melanie's exquisite fingers as they picked up the menu.
Melanie ordered a vegetarian antipasto platter and a glass of distilled water.
"Problems with menopause, dear?" she said to Claire. "Feeling depressed and irritable and less of a woman?"
Claire glared at her.
Melanie continued. "Trust me. I know what I'm talking about. May I share with you my own experience?"
"No," Claire said, wondering if wet patches were showing under her armpits. Melanie turned to Justine, who nodded.
Claire writhed in her seat as Melanie talked on. No other woman had ever suffered as badly as she had from the physical and psychological effects of menopause. And no other woman had researched the topic as thoroughly or recovered as well.
"All it takes is self-belief and determination and following the Ten Golden Rules that I developed. You may have read my book?"
"No."
It was dawning on Claire who she was.
She remembered a depressed young female university lecturer had consulted her as a patient the previous year. It emerged in the sessions that her depression was associated with unresolved emotional issues around her mother, towards whom she felt much anger.
"My mother goes on about how wonderful she is," her patient had said, "and it's all about HER, Melanie Hartley-Smythe, the great Health and Beauty Consultant. She's always preening herself in the mirror, buying new clothes and showing off at meetings. People think the sun shines out of her backside." Then she'd burst into tears. "She walks all over Dad, my lovely, gentle accountant Father. Treats him like dirt!"
Claire recalled writing in her pad ' mother probably has aggressive traits, self-obsessed, possibly histrionic personality disorder.'
She looked at Melanie across the table and smiled as a naughty thought struck her.
To use knowledge gained during a confidential consultation to have fun at someone else's expense was highly unethical...but what the heck. She was on sick leave. This woman had no idea who or what she was and wouldn't be interested anyway.
"Melanie!" Claire said sharply. Melanie stopped talking. Claire looked at her with a serious expression. "Melanie! I am a clairvoyant by profession and I see your aura is troubled. Look into my eyes. That's it. Oh, my goodness. I feel something I must warn you about." She glanced at Justine who was staring at her goggle-eyed and motioned her to be silent. "I sense you have a daughter, possibly a teacher, no, a lecturer, from whom you have alienated yourself with self-obsession and inability to bond. She is close to hating you. And I'm connecting with a man who works with figures. Your husband? An accountant? A gentle soul, a good man, whose life you have ruined. I feel he is tempted to begin a relationship with an older woman - even older than you. She is neither clever nor attractive - but she will love him as you never have."
Melanie leapt to her feet, screaming "How dare you!" and stormed out onto the street to the evident delight of the other cafe patrons.
"Mum!" shrieked Justine.
"We menopausal women have our nutty moments," Claire said, leaning back in her chair, looking at her fingernails, "but sometimes we're right on target. Your time will come. Ooh, I'm feeling so much better! Shall we be really bad and have some chocolate and raspberry cheesecake?"
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