Loud music blared as Sandra pulled into the pub car park. The music got even louder when she opened the car door. Through the window she could see the pub was crowded, everyone seemed to be having such a good time. Sandra felt lonely and isolated, and for a moment she considered going home. But she had already arranged to meet her friend Karen for a drink, so she steeled herself and went inside. She stopped just inside the door to check her appearance in a mirror on the wall. She was reasonably happy with what she saw; shoulder-length dark reddish-brown hair, a healthy, rosy complexion, sparkling blue-grey eyes; a decent figure for forty-five, breasts large but still firm, nice ass and good legs; not too much of a belly. All shown off to good effect in a short black dress, plenty of cleavage, sheer black hose and her most expensive pair of heels.
Her confidence renewed, Sandra approached the bar. As she crossed the room, she heard Karen call out from the far end of the bar. Sandra nearly turned and fled when she saw Karen was with a group of people, but before she could move Karen had come up and given her a hug. Hooking one arm around Sandra's waist, Karen led her over to be introduced. As it turned out, Karen's friends were all work colleagues, teachers, and Sandra's spirits sank when she realised she was the outsider and would have nothing to contribute to the conversation. But they were a friendly bunch, one of the men bought her a drink, and Sandra soon started to relax.
As the evening wore on, everyone had had quite a skinful. Karen was on form, loud but amusing, coarse but witty. Inevitably, Sandra was starting to feel the outsider once more, as most of the conversation revolved around school. Sandra had moved to the edge of the group and jumped when suddenly someone touched her shoulder from behind. She turned to see a young good-looking lad speaking at her, but because of the music she couldn't hear a word he was saying. He leaned closer and put his mouth to her ear.
"You're Matt's mum, right?" he shouted, almost inaudibly.
"That's right," Sandra replied, recognition starting to dawn. "You're Lee, aren't you?"
"Liam, actually," he corrected her. "How is Matt? Haven't seen him since we left school."
And so they chatted, in that strange, hoarse shout that people adopt in noisy clubs and pubs. Sandra found herself warming to Liam, he was polite, friendly, interesting and, it suddenly occurred to her, quite good looking. His dark hair, limpid brown eyes and tanned skin made a stimulating combination.