The Girl in the Corner

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘And you look beautiful.’ He swallowed.

  ‘Bless you, Howard! Look at you, all misty-eyed, you old softie!’ She ran her hand over the lapel of his jacket; this type of emotional display was rare from him.

  She looked down at the tangerine silk kimono dress she wore over slender black trousers and pulled first one, then the other long, wide sleeve over her slender wrists.

  ‘Not too much, is it? I don’t want to look overdressed. For dinner. Wherever we are going for dinner, I mean; I don’t know anything.’

  Howard gave a small nervous chuckle. ‘You, my darling wife, are a terrible liar! Okay, so how much do you know?’ He fixed her with a stare.

  She breathed a sigh of relief, realising that part of her tension had come from having to play along. She placed her hand on his chest and laughed. ‘Oh, Howard, thank God! I don’t know any detail, but I did hear Dolly on the answerphone a couple of weeks ago: a message asking about cake and balloons – so I know I am going somewhere where there will be cake and balloons and that is about it.’

  The boom of his laughter, which spoke of relief, sent a quake through her chest. He placed his hands on his hips and exhaled, licking his lips, which were dry. It obviously meant a lot to him, not breaking his promise, keeping the surprise. ‘That Dolly, she hasn’t got the sense she was born with.’ He shook his head and spoke with affection: ‘Do me a favour – play along. Be surprised.’

  ‘Well, I will be; I still don’t know much. Are you sure this outfit is okay?’ Rae never looked upon her reflection and felt anything other than doubt, her eyes darting straight to her many perceived flaws, her wide hips, narrow chin, mismatched eyebrows . . . the list was long.

  ‘I told you, you look beautiful; but then you always do to me.’

  She looked at her outline in the windowpane, a little fuzzy, her features indistinct; without the precision offered by a mirror, this image of her looked young, younger at least, and this in turn fired a spike of sadness through her core. It wasn’t anything to do with vanity – Rae wore each wrinkle with pride. No, it was more the realisation that so many years had passed, slipped away unnoticed from her prime until now, everything moving a little too fast; and sometimes, despite being middle-aged, she still felt as if she were trying to get a foothold. She still felt at some level that she was waiting for things to start, waiting to figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up. It had been her dream to go back to college when the kids went to school; she wanted a qualification other than her typing certificate and had often thought about training as a chef. She loved food, loved cooking, and the idea of formalising what she had picked up over the years very much appealed. But Howard had been right – how would she have fitted it in while caring for the kids, keeping the house, waiting with her phone within reach for the next request that would keep the restaurants running like a well-oiled machine?

  ‘I said I’ve got you a little something.’

  She stared at him, sorry for having zoned out, watching as he beamed and reached into his inside top pocket.

  ‘Oh, Howard, no! We said no presents!’ She felt the slow sinking of joy in her gut, replaced by embarrassment run through with irritation: we had agreed! ‘I didn’t get you anything!’

  ‘I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it.’ He ran his fingertips over her shoulder and handed her the flat black velvet box with a small gold button protruding from its side. She felt the tremble of his fingers against her skin and realised that this must mean a lot to have him so anxious.

  ‘Go on then. Open it!’ he urged, his face that of a child, excited.

  She held the box that gave him the edge in the anniversary stakes and pushed the gold button. The lid slowly opened to reveal a beautiful necklace, a delicate silver chain with a neat teardrop diamond hanging from it.

  ‘Oh, Howard! Oh my God, it’s so beautiful!’ She felt the excitement swirl in her stomach at being in receipt of such a gift; it really was as stunning as it was unexpected.

  ‘I know twenty-five years should be silver, but it’s white gold. Looks silver, though, doesn’t it? Cost a bomb, but you are worth it. You really are.’

  She stared at him, fascinated that he had no clue that his comment reduced the gift to something with a price attached; to collateral, rather than anything romantic. His tone and words were the equivalent of the chimney she had considered earlier, sucking the joy from the gift and leaving her feeling a little cold.

  ‘I don’t need to know how much it cost. I just love it because you got it for me.’

  ‘Let me put it on you. Please.’

  She was surprised by his tone of desperation. This milestone was clearly affecting him more than she thought. ‘Really? You think I should wear it tonight?’

  ‘Yes, of course!’

  She turned in the obligatory manner, lifting her newly honey-coloured locks. Howard took the necklace and stood close to her, placing a single kiss at the nape of her neck, which sent a shiver of something close to desire along her spine as he positioned it on her chest and fiddled with the clasp until it was secure.

  ‘Dolly suggested it. It looks lovely on you. You deserve the best, Rae.’

  She ran her fingers over the shiny stone.

  ‘Well, Miss Pritchard, what do you think of it?’ he pushed.

  She felt the shallow ache of sweet longing at the mention of her maiden name, remembering the quiet sixteen-year-old who had held the hand of her new and impressive beau and taken a step on to a path that had turned out to be a time machine, moving so quickly it had spirited her here – nearly thirty years later. And it had happened in the blink of an eye.

  Rae studied her reflection again, with the teardrop-shaped bauble resting at the base of her throat.

  ‘Well?’ Howard urged, clasping his hands as he stood waiting for her opinion on this beautiful gift, seeking validation, approval.

  She turned, smiled at her husband, the brother of her best friend, and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you, Howard. It’s lovely. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head and she remembered the first time he had done so outside her mum and dad’s gate.

  ‘I really do love you,’ he repeated, ‘and I would not change a thing about the last twenty-five years. In fact, I would marry you again tomorrow if I had the chance.’

  ‘We are lucky.’ She kissed the back of his hand that rested on her shoulder.

  ‘We are. We are so lucky.’ He held her hands and looked at her earnestly.

  ‘Are you okay, darling? You seem very emotional!’

  ‘I just love you, Rae, and I want you to know that, tonight of all nights.’

  ‘I do.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed the tip of his nose. ‘I do know that, and thank you.’

  Rae had seen her confidence bloom a little in her role as his wife. She spoke a little louder, held her head a little higher; never more so than when she was at home with her family, away from situations that were unfamiliar. The kids had pointed out how the two of them constantly burbled, babbled, chit-chatted, their every interaction peppered with two things: a running commentary on their lives, and a stream of inner monologue from two people so at ease in each other’s company that it provided the happy background music to their day.

  I thought I might roast a chicken for supper.

  Remind me to send George that cheque, Rae.

  I do love spring. We have daffodils on the verge; did you see them?

  Think I’ll set a fire tonight – it’s still a bit chilly of an evening.

  How do you spell phen-om-en-al?

  Did you see they’ve dug up the road by the lights again?

  Oh, this bread is good!

  Cup of tea, love?

  They also had a need, a desire to remain physically in touch. Either or both of them, no matter what the situation, would with unforced regularity reach for the other’s hand, rest a palm on a knee or touch their nose to the other’s face, just
for the sheer joy of contact. Rae always thought these little physical expressions were like a battery recharge. And she welcomed them.

  ‘Right!’ Howard clapped his hands now. ‘If I don’t get you into the car and off to our destination to arrive at a certain time, I will be in big trouble.’

  ‘And nobody wants that. Not on our anniversary.’

  ‘Quite.’ He kissed her once again and looked as if he wanted to say more, but the moment passed.

  As Howard locked the front door and Rae climbed into the front seat of the car, she saw Fifi and the young woman who owned her walking along the pavement. She waved, as she usually did. The girl gave a cautious, brief nod of her head and instantly looked away. Rae smiled; this felt like a breakthrough.

  She glanced briefly at her husband as they made their way past the Crouch End clock tower.

  ‘Fifi’s mum just acknowledged me, for the first time ever.’

  ‘Who?’ he fired. ‘Are you too warm, darling? It’s very hot in here.’ He was already fiddling with the heating controls on the dashboard as if she had answered.

  She nodded. ‘Fifi! The darling little shih-tzu who lives at the end of our street. Her mum. I worry about her – the woman, not the dog. She is always alone and she looks a little lost, a bit sad, and I think she’s shy. I have tried to make contact, but she avoids me. But she just gave me a small nod. That’s a breakthrough, right?’

  ‘I guess,’ he exhaled, ‘but I think in all honesty if she wanted to be your friend, she would have responded to you before now. If she keeps herself to herself there will be a reason for it and I guess, as lovely as you are . . .’ He smiled at her. ‘You have to respect that. Plus you have enough people in your life.’

  ‘Enough people in my life? How many is enough?’ She laughed at this idea. ‘I suppose you are right.’

  She stared out of the window at a young couple laughing, the girl in a bobble hat, bent double, hanging on to her beau for support while happiness and giggles folded her over.

  That’s how it feels to be this happy with the one you love – and I know it; I share it. Lovely . . .

  Not that life was always smooth or worry-free. Hannah, now in her final year of university in Liverpool, had been struggling to settle in to a new student house and Rae was, as ever, concerned about her, holding an image of her alone, sitting on a narrow bed in her soulless room. She hoped she could lose a little of her spikiness, thinking it was these barbs that kept others at bay and wishing that her daughter didn’t have need of them. This thought kept her awake. Was Hannah okay? Lonely? Hungry? Struggling?

  George too had started his first year at college, and lived in Guildford; while he was blissfully happy with his lovely Ruby, he was not coping too well with the change and the new pressure. This had also been keeping Rae awake at night – was George stressed? Would he study enough? Fail? Was he happy? Struggling?

  Sometimes she wished she could run away and spend an hour or two with her phone unplugged, just to clear her head in a place where no one could reach her and no one could commandeer her time with all that ailed them.

  She had worked for the business full-time when the kids were at school, and even now to a lesser degree, helping with the scheduling, hiring, decorating and running errands at the drop of a hat. She spent the best part of each day on high alert, waiting for the next emergency to become her responsibility, usually via a frantic phone call.

  We need pound coins!

  We’ve run out of almond milk!

  A twenty-first birthday cake!

  Mitzy’s prescription!

  Dolly has lost her car keys!

  Rae is on it!

  Offering assistance wherever she could and whenever called upon. It might have been Debbie-Jo who wanted to be Batgirl’s alter ego, but Rae was like a superhero whose superpower was getting shit done when no one else could be bothered to try.

  Her brother-in-law Paul was the accountant; his wife, Sadie-the-Gossip, as she and Dolly affectionately called her, helped with the interior design. Howard was the businessman, always looking at how to expand: the ideas guy. Vinnie, her brother-in-law, dealt with all the suppliers for the restaurants, and Dolly – wonderful, brash, funny, loyal Dolly – was the glue that held it all together, the energy: the girl with the can-do attitude. Yes, Rae loved her life, loved being part of the Latimer-tribe rock stars.

  Howard slowed the car and looked across at her. ‘Okay, so we might have arrived. Hope this is all right.’

  ‘Whatever has been planned will be fine,’ she offered with as much enthusiasm as she could muster – excited, yes, but trying to swallow the nerves that leaped in her stomach, while thinking at some level that it might have been nice to do something just the two of them, without the cake, balloons, pomp and fuss. Blinking now, she looked ahead. ‘Okay, deep breath . . .’ Rae tried to play her part as Howard indicated and pulled the Mercedes up outside one of their family restaurants, in Barnet. ‘The Latimers Kitchen?’

  ‘Do you mind?’ He pulled a face.

  ‘No, as I said, anything is lovely.’ She pulled down the sun visor and checked her lipstick, fixed her hair. His attention felt a little overdone as he swooped around to her side of the car and opened the door with a grand gesture, holding her hand loosely as she stepped out on to the pavement.

  She tried not to look into the glass frontage, thankful for the teal-coloured plantation blinds that blocked most of the view of the thousand-square-feet restaurant where the menus were scrawled on vast blackboards that took up large areas of the wall, where there was a fancy zinc-topped bar and mismatched vintage chandeliers that were all the rage, hanging over tables themselves fashioned from painted doors. The look was part-garage, part-loft, part-food truck, and people loved it. The Latimers had hit upon this winning theme, and with their winning food on top, their seven restaurants were going from strength to strength.

  Howard pushed open the big double door and took a breath. ‘Shoot!’ He patted his top pocket. ‘Sorry, Rae, I’ve left my wallet in my coat on the back seat. Do not move. I want to walk you in.’ She couldn’t tell from his nervous hesitation whether leaving her on the porch was part of the plan. She looked ahead at the double louvre doors and, closing one eye, focused on the tiny crack where they joined.

  She saw a crowd huddled together along the back wall and in spite of her anxiety, this made her smile. She watched as Dolly, her generous figure squeezed into a cream lace sheath dress, put her fingers to her lips and grimaced at her son, Lyall, batting her hand in his direction as if swatting invisible flies. Rae knew her best friend well enough to know that she would have gone to too much trouble to allow his larking around to blow the big surprise now. Turning from Lyall, Dolly set her eyes on the front door, almost looking directly at her. Rae remembered the moment nearly thirty years ago when they had been in the same position, with Dolly marching towards her, her hand outstretched. My name is Dolly Latimer . . . Fun facts: I am planning to lose my virginity within the next few weeks to the most gorgeous boy you have ever met. His name is Vinnie . . .

  Rae smiled again, staring ahead at Dolly and Vinnie surrounded by their family, her family, watching as Dolly shushed the giggles that came from Lark and Ellory, Paul’s young granddaughters. She looked along the line at the expectant faces of her mum, dad, sister Debbie-Jo and her husband, Lee. Hannah, George, Ruby – they were all here. Her heart lurched with love for them and she cursed the tears that gathered at the back of her eyes.

  I love you all . . . I love you all so much . . .

  She watched Dolly reach for her phone, which vibrated in the semi-darkness: the text she had apparently been waiting for.

  ‘They’re here! They’re here!’ Dolly whispered excitedly.

  The door opened behind Rae and Howard placed a hand on her shoulder, simultaneously telling her it was all going to be okay while trying to calm her. Like he always did.

  He pushed open the double doors and the noise was deafening. There was a roar of ‘SURP
RISE!’ along with cheers, whoops and the bang of party poppers firing narrow streamers up into the air, as well as a flash overhead as the main lights came on.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Rae placed her hand to her throat and, having worried about striking the right note of convincing shock and delight, was quite taken aback by the tears that sprouted; all at once she was overcome by the joyous proximity of her kids, her family and their friends in this atmosphere of celebration.

  A banner had been strung across the room: ‘Congratulations Howard and Rae – 25 Years and Counting!’

  Dolly stepped forward and held her close, her words choked by her own emotion. ‘I wanted to do something to mark this amazing day! I love you. You know I do. And you, Howard! I love you too.’ She pulled the two of them together in a fierce hug.

  ‘I love you too,’ Rae tearfully offered.

  Hannah, George and Ruby came forward and greeted her and Howard with kisses.

  ‘Happy anniversary, Ma!’ Hannah beamed.

  ‘Darling, you came all this way!’

  ‘I was already all this way when I spoke to you earlier. I was in Dolly’s kitchen!’

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Rae touched her fingertips to her daughter’s face.

  ‘We’ve been hiding out at Uncle Paul’s,’ George explained.

  ‘Thank you all.’ She felt a surge of love for these wonderful kids, and again her tears gathered.

  ‘I told you she was going to be crying all night!’ Hannah called to her auntie Dolly.

  ‘Wait till she gets some booze inside her – then the tears will flow. She’s always been that way. I remember her knocking back cider until she sobbed watching Dirty Dancing.’

  ‘I was sixteen!’

  Laughter rippled around the room. As if on cue, Paul shoved a glass of champagne into her hand. He held her gaze a second longer than he needed to and closed his eyes briefly, his lingering expression a sweet gesture of love that she appreciated. Of all the family members, Paul had always been the most aloof – not exactly unwelcoming, but as if he didn’t think she merited emotional investment. Howard had told her she was being oversensitive. This, she knew, was possible.