Monday to Friday Man

by Alice Peterson

  ‘I’ll be there,’ he promises. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now can I go?’

  I smile. ‘Go.’

  ‘See you Monday!’ he calls as he rushes downstairs.

  I hear the front door slam and Ruskin bark.

  34

  Thirty-five today. Happy birthday to me, I sing in the shower.

  My birthday morning starts well with a visit from the Interflora man. Quickly I open the small white envelope tucked into the flowers, praying they’re not from Aunt Pearl, Dad, Gloria, Nick or Nancy.

  They’re from Jack, signed,

  With lots of love.

  ps You’re hot for thirty-five.

  I smile at that part, realizing that I’ve got to relax about Jack and the weekends. I’m not ready for us to be over, not yet, and especially not as I turn thirty-five. That would be adding insult to the injury.

  In the post is a card from my father, enclosing a cheque. There are cards from all my friends, including the Digbys up north and the Heron clan in the Hebrides, and Helen my nursing friend from Middle Wallop in Hampshire, who signs it from all the family including the dogs and the chickens. Hannah and Matilda have both made me cards. Hannah has painted a picture of the sea with colourful fish and inside she has written, ‘Have a fishy fun birday’. Matilda has painted a heart and in the middle she’s written, ‘Happie birfday’.

  Mum sends a package from Australia. Inside are book tokens, perfume and some old black-and-white Audrey Hepburn movies, which she knows are my favourites. In her card she asks me to visit her again.

  My dog friends and I congregate under the oak tree, wrapped in thick coats, scarves and hats. I open their cards.

  ‘If any of you tell me I’m over the hill, or …’

  ‘Losing your marbles,’ suggests Walter.

  Thankfully none of them do. The cards mostly have dogs on the front, surprise surprise.

  ‘Happy birthday,’ says Sam, giving me a small white box. Inside is a chocolate cupcake with creamy icing and one single candle in the middle.

  Sam lights the cake with Mari’s cigarette lighter and they all sing Happy Birthday, telling me to make a wish.

  I wish for everything to go smoothly at Nancy’s tonight.

  Guy and I part at the zebra crossing. ‘You’ve got the address for this evening?’ I call after him.

  He nods. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Oh, and Guy—’

  He turns, walks back to me. ‘Why have you got your worry face on?’

  I press my lips together. ‘I’m not worried, not at all, but…’

  ‘Um?’

  ‘You won’t mention anything to Jack about his brother, will you?’

  ‘I promise to behave,’ he says reassuringly with a salute. ‘I’ll put on my best hat.’

  Great. I smile as I walk to work.

  I’m glad Nancy suggested a party. She’s right. Nick and I should celebrate, not hide under our duvet covers. I think about everyone meeting Jack this evening.

  I’m looking forward to it.

  35

  Nick opens the door, looking handsome in dark trousers, polished shoes and a soft blue jumper like the ones our father wears. ‘Happy birthday, twinnie,’ he says, hugging me. Hannah and Matilda race down the hallway in their fluffy pyjamas and slippers. ‘Auntie Gilly!’ Tilda cries out. I crouch down and she throws her arms around my neck. ‘Happy birfday!’

  ‘Remember,’ Nick reminds me as I hug the girls, ‘I was born twenty minutes before you.’

  As I approach the kitchen, the children clinging onto me and demanding I open their presents right now, I hear the sound of corks popping. Nick whispers into my ear that Nancy’s tipsy already. When I enter the room she thrusts a glass of champagne into my hand and surveys me in my raspberry-pink suede miniskirt that we bought together on our shopping trip. ‘Perfect!’ she proclaims before hustling me out and into the sitting room. ‘You didn’t mind me asking Guy last minute?’ I say breathlessly.

  ‘No! I’ve cooked an enormous paella, so the more the merrier!’

  The sitting room is a shrine to Nick and me, with glittery 35 TODAY! banners hung from the ceiling and delicious-looking canapés on the coffee table. ‘No more crisps, Tilda,’ Nancy says, swiping the bowl from her. ‘Where’s Jack, Auntie Gilly?’ Tilda asks impatiently.

  Anna and Paul are the first to arrive. Nick hasn’t asked his friends this evening because he’s having a separate party, also organized by his wife – lots of his work colleagues, of course. Besides, there wasn’t space around the table to invite everyone. Nick offers drinks and turns on some music. Hannah and Tilda hand round bowls of crisps and olives. Anna hands me a present. Oh! This is such fun, I tell her and Paul, saying I love presents more than food. As I’m about to open my gift, Nancy confiscates it, saying she wants a present-opening session at the end of the evening, after dinner. ‘Is everything all right?’ I whisper to Nick when she’s walked away, noticing he’s quiet.

  ‘Just another row,’ he whispers. ‘She’s impossible.’

  When Mark and Susie arrive, I hear more champagne corks flying from the kitchen. ‘Ugh,’ Hannah says when she tries one of the smoked salmon blinis.

  Susie joins me by the fireplace. ‘You look beautiful, Gilly.’ She kisses me on both cheeks. ‘Thirty-five is clearly the new thirty,’ she says as we raise our glasses to each other. ‘I like the look of Paul,’ she adds. ‘Guy’s coming too, isn’t he?’ she then asks casually.

  ‘He’d better be, I’m dying to meet Hatman,’ Anna says, joining us now.

  ‘What’s Hatman?’ Tilda asks with excitement, plunging her hand into the bowl of crisps.

  ‘Guy,’ I tell them.

  ‘Have you got two boyfriends?’ she asks, surprised.

  ‘No, he’s my dog-walking friend,’ I tell her.

  ‘Do you show them both your boobies,’ Tilda asks, jumping up and down in front of me, and everyone laughs. Nancy appears at the sitting-room door, red-faced. ‘You two, bed,’ she instructs.

  ‘No, Mum! I want to see Jack!’ Tilda begs.

  ‘Well, behave then.’

  Thankfully the doorbell rings and Nancy leaves the sitting room. ‘Jack Baker,’ I overhear. ‘You must be Nancy.’

  ‘Yes! Come in, come in,’ Nancy says, voice rejuvenated.

  ‘Quick update,’ Susie insists, and Anna leans in towards me.

  ‘Great,’ I whisper.

  Nancy leads Jack into the sitting room, a room of beiges and whites, tall vases filled with lilies and cream curtains with tiebacks. The girls are silent. They stare at him, until Jack says, ‘Oh! Now you must be—’ He turns to me, hoping I’ll remind him.

  ‘Hannah and Tilda, this is Jack,’ I say cheerily.

  Tilda hides behind my skirt, murmuring, ‘Hello, Jack.’

  When he is introduced to Anna I can tell from her face that she also understands what the fuss is all about now. When you first meet Jack fireworks do explode. I have become more immune to his good looks since picking up his boxer shorts and sweaty running pants off the floor, and scooping his teabags out of the sink and into the bin. However, when I introduce him to all my friends and Nick tonight, I do feel proud. If Jack and I weren’t serious, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

  Jack strokes my arm, before turning to everyone and commanding the room. ‘Doesn’t the birthday girl look beautiful? And tall,’ he gestures down to my heels, before kissing me.

  Nancy’s mouth twitches as she says, ‘Come on everyone, dinner is served. Girls, bedtime now.’

  ‘Hang on, what about Guy?’ I say.

  ‘The famous dog walker,’ Jack adds.

  The doorbell rings and in he comes, dressed to my surprise in smart trousers and a shirt. But he’s still wearing a hat. His navy hat, the one that I love. The girls giggle at his hat, before being whisked off to bed.

  ‘This is delicious paella, Nancy,’ Jack says. I reach for his hand under the table, to signal well done, as I’d told him that she love
s compliments about her cooking.

  Everyone murmurs their approval around the table, especially Jack and me. When Nancy goes to this much trouble I feel guilty that I don’t give her enough credit. My sister-in-law and I are wired in completely different ways, but perhaps I need to understand her, just as people need to understand me.

  ‘I’ve never had it with chorizo before,’ Jack continues, squeezing my hand now and I hold back from laughing.

  ‘It’s just one of my secret little ingredients, Jack,’ Nancy enthuses. ‘So, come on, Gilly. What do you wish for this year?’

  I look at Guy. ‘Well, I’d love to write a novel.’

  ‘Have you read any of her children’s stories?’ asks Anna loyally.

  ‘What else?’ Nancy asks.

  ‘I don’t know.’ To meet someone, I want to say and to be happy. ‘What about you Nick?’

  ‘Be happy,’ he says, reading my own thoughts, ‘that’s all.’

  ‘Well, I’m so glad Gilly didn’t move to the country,’ Nancy states.

  ‘Me too,’ Jack says, clutching my hand territorially, ‘otherwise I wouldn’t have met this fabulous girl,’ he claims, addressing all of us now.

  Guy looks over to us. ‘I’d jump at the chance to move.’

  ‘Would you?’ Anna asks in disbelief. ‘I always think of the country as a place to retire.’

  ‘No no. When we retire,’ Nancy emphasizes, ‘we’re not going to plant ourselves in some half-dead village where the highlight of the month is a bric-a-brac morning, are we, Nicholas? We’ll go back to Los Angeles,’ she declares.

  ‘I love LA,’ agrees Jack, and I catch them exchanging smiles again. Going well, I think with relief. A good lively debate is what it’s all about.

  ‘I much prefer London. We used to live in LA,’ Nick says, turning to Guy, ‘for the first few years of our marriage, but I’m glad I’m home.’

  ‘Right. So you want to live somewhere where it rains all the time,’ Nancy says, ‘and where no one smiles.’ She starts to clear the plates; Jack jumps up to help her. I watch him resting a hand against her back, asking what he can do. ‘No, no,’ she giggles, ‘you sit down.’

  ‘Where do you live, Jack?’ Nick asks, when he returns to the table.

  ‘Bath.’

  ‘Just out of interest, why don’t you live here?’ Guy asks.

  ‘Gilly thinks I’m secretly married.’ Jack smiles, leaning back into his seat, hands held behind his head.

  ‘Oh Jack, I only said that as a joke because you can never stay the weekend,’ I say. ‘He’s with me during the week but then disappears into a cloud of smoke on Friday. Puff!’ I clap my hands. ‘He’s gone! No one can get hold of him, his phone is switched off …’

  ‘Gilly.’ Jack frowns.

  ‘And then as if by magic he comes back on Monday.’

  Everyone laughs, I notice, except Jack.

  ‘So come on, what do you get up to at the weekend?’ Nick asks.

  At that point Jack’s telephone rings. Again. ‘Don’t take it,’ I urge. Is anyone that important going to call him tonight?

  ‘Sorry,’ he mutters, leaving the table with his BlackBerry.

  When he returns Nancy asks him who it was. ‘Just my wife,’ he replies, winking at her, and I notice Nancy smiling back at him. She looks as if she wants to tear his hand off mine and eat him with lashings of whipped cream.

  ‘What do you do?’ Nancy asks Guy, after quizzing Jack on his career and marvelling at his success at such a young age. She’s already established that Jack’s thirty, Guy thirty-seven. I wonder if she would find Jack so attractive if he were a traffic warden? Would I, for that matter? Jack grabs the bottle of wine, waiting for Guy’s response.

  ‘I’m a landscape gardener.’

  ‘A gardener!’ Nancy repeats.

  Oh God. She’s getting drunk. Does she realize how rude she sounds?

  Guy nods, detecting her tone.

  ‘How much can you earn doing that?’ Jack asks. ‘What?’ he says to me, when I kick him under the table. ‘It’s a reasonable question!’

  Nick glances his way.

  ‘Guy, just ignore him,’ I say with false merriment. Not going so well now, I think.

  ‘I admit I don’t earn a fortune,’ Guy says to Jack, without raising his voice.

  ‘Money isn’t everything,’ interrupts Nick.

  ‘Yeah, but it helps,’ Jack argues, gesturing to the lavish table decorated with candles and confetti, and the food in front of him.

  ‘Will you come and look at our tiny garden?’ Susie asks Guy, trying to steer the conversation somewhere else. ‘Mark and I are both useless and never have enough time, do we?’

  ‘Never,’ Mark agrees.

  ‘Of course,’ Guy nods, ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘Gardening,’ Nancy says again, ‘you’re really just a gardener?’

  ‘Nancy!’ we all shout at her. I can see Paul’s face expressing panic that these are the kind of people Anna hangs out with. I want to reassure him that we’re not all like Nancy. I turn to Jack, who’s gazing at her, almost in awe.

  ‘Well, I used to work in advertising, Nancy, but I stopped when I realized that I didn’t want to say at the end of my life that all I’d ever done was advertise toothpaste.’

  I notice Nick and Paul smiling with Guy now.

  ‘At least I go to bed at night knowing I’ve earned a good honest day’s wage,’ Guy continues, ‘I’m not diddling anyone out of money, I’m not some dodgy bloke trying to convince you that you need life insurance at the age of twelve and I’m not some politician ripping off the taxpayer.’

  ‘Noble,’ Jack sums up.

  ‘At least I don’t make my money exploiting people,’ Guy says.

  ‘Sorry, what was that?’ Jack leans forward with great exaggeration.

  ‘More wine anyone?’ I ask, jittery.

  ‘I wouldn’t like to earn a living making a fool out of people.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so moralistic, it’s entertainment,’ Jack says. ‘I love Stargazer,’ says Nancy, reaching across to touch his hand.

  Next thing I know we descend into an argument for and against reality television.

  ‘Are you one of the judges?’ Mark asks Jack.

  ‘He’s a top producer!’ Nancy puts him straight.

  ‘Yeah, but I do judge too. Before all the singers are in front of the panel for the live show, I’ve heard them sing in the audition suite,’ Jack informs us. He stares at Guy. ‘So if you can’t sing a note and think you’re the reincarnation of Elvis, I’ll put you through.’

  ‘And you don’t feel guilty?’ Guy asks.

  ‘Shall we change the subject?’ I ask chirpily.

  ‘Not at all.’ He stares back at Guy. ‘It makes good TV.’

  Guy excuses himself, asking Nancy where the loo is.

  ‘Down the corridor on the right,’ she directs, waving a hand dismissively at him.

  I jump up to show him, giving Nancy a stern look on the way out.

  As I lead Guy to the bathroom, I pull him to one side. ‘I’m sorry about Nancy. She’s had too much to drink and … you’re not enjoying this, are you?’

  Pause. ‘Gilly?’ he says, searching my face.

  ‘What?’ I whisper.

  ‘Gilly!’ I hear Nancy now calling.

  He looks at me, as if he wants to confess something important, but … ‘You’d better go,’ he says.

  Nancy stands up, loses her balance and grips the edge of the table. I can see Paul is looking at Anna, his expression saying, ‘Are your friends like this all the time?’

  ‘Gilly, may I just say,’ she announces, ‘your time will come, sweetheart. Your time will come and when it does, I’ll be right by your side!’

  Oh my God! I want to kill her. Very soon there’s going to be a death in the kitchen with the candlestick.

  I notice Jack isn’t saying a word. Instead he reaches for the bottle of wine, knocking over a glass of water in the process. ‘Whoopsie,’
he says, followed by a hiccup. His telephone rings again, and he staggers out of the room.

  ‘He needs some black coffee,’ Mark suggests, but the only thing I can think about is who is calling him all the time. ‘Cheer up, Gilly. All I’m saying is your time will come,’ Nancy reaffirms.

  Guy taps his spoon against his wine glass. ‘Time for what, Nancy?’ he asks, silencing everyone round the table. ‘Maybe Gilly’s time has come already.’ I catch both Susie and Anna smiling.

  Nancy claps her hands. ‘Enough of this! Present time!’ She dashes out of the room and it’s some time before she returns with Jack, swaying on his arm. ‘Sorry,’ Jack whispers to me, ‘was dying for a fag.’

  Nancy’s forgotten the presents. She stumbles out of the room again, and returns with a bag of gifts.

  Soon I’m ripping off paper and ribbons and opening boxes of body cream, bubble bath, soap … ‘Do I smell?’ I laugh. Nick is opening his presents too, mainly clothes and aftershave from Nancy. I gave him some silver elephant cufflinks. Nick loved the elephants in London Zoo. I open Jack’s present. It’s an expensive-looking perfume, which I open excitedly and test against my wrist. I nearly choke, the scent is so overpowering. ‘I love it,’ I tell him. I catch Nancy turning to Guy disapprovingly.

  ‘I didn’t have time …’ he says. ‘I’ve been away and …’

  ‘Don’t worry, Guy,’ I tell him reassuringly.

  ‘You haven’t even got her a card?’ Nancy tuts.

  Nick sighs. ‘Oh, Nancy, give it a rest. Sorry, Guy.’

  Guy takes off his navy hat, leans across and puts it on me. He knows it’s one of my favourites. ‘Happy birthday, Gilly,’ he says.

  Nancy places a chocolate cake in front of Nick and me, iced with the words, ‘THIRTY-FIVE TODAY!’ Everyone sings Happy Birthday to the twins.

  ‘Delicious,’ Jack says appreciatively, tucking in.

  ‘It’s lovely, Nancy. I must use this company,’ Guy says.

  ‘Excuse me?’ She stares at him and a silence descends across the table.

  Guy looks up and over to me for reassurance. ‘The Gourmet Company? The boxes …’ His voice trails off.

  Nancy’s face crumbles.