by Sophie Hart
Simon wrapped his arms around her, and Zoe realised that tears were streaming down her face, as he covered her with kisses and pushed the ring onto her finger.
‘It matches your new earrings,’ he teased, as Zoe looked down to see the glittering diamond on the silver band.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she stammered. ‘I can’t believe you did all this.’
‘I wanted it to be something you’d never forget. I love you, Zoe.’
The curtain fell around them, shielding them from the prying eyes of the audience and finally giving them a moment of privacy. Zoe looked up at her new fiancé and kissed him, long and hard, snuggling into his arms. The moment couldn’t have been more perfect.
‘I love you too, Simon,’ she told him, when they finally came up for air. ‘I love you so much, and I can’t wait to be your wife.’
6
Chapter Six
‘You know that look women get when they want to have sex? Me neither’ – Steve Martin
‘Hi Rose,’ Ray smiled, the bell tinkling as he walked into the flower shop. Named ‘Expressions’, it was small, but extensively stocked, and he inhaled the glorious scent of lilies, freesias, dahlias and sweet peas, all standing round in silver buckets.
‘Hi Dad, how are you?’ Rose asked, coming out from behind the counter to give him a kiss on the cheek. She was medium height and slim, with thick brunette curls tied back in a ponytail.
‘Oh, not bad, you know. Is your mum around?’
‘She’s just out the back – I’ll give her a shout. Mum!’ Rose yelled. ‘Dad’s here.’
‘So how’s everything with you?’ Ray enquired, as they waited. ‘How are the kids?’
‘Great. Running me ragged as usual. Josh’s best friend at school has just got a guinea pig, so he’s been driving us mad asking for a pet. I don’t know whether I’ve got the time to look after an animal, but it seems mean not to let him have something. It might be a good way to teach him about responsibility.’
‘Do you remember when you and Marianne got that hamster?’ Ray chuckled. ‘You were so disappointed because it slept all day, and only woke up after you’d gone to bed.’
‘We took it out to play in the garden and it ran away,’ Rose remembered guiltily. ‘I’m sure next door’s cat ate it.’
They chatted easily and, after a couple of minutes, Linda emerged. She had shoulder-length wavy hair, which was dyed a flattering shade of ash blonde, and a softly curved body that had long since given up the fight against middle-age spread. Right now, she looked flustered, her arms full of beautiful dusky pink peonies.
‘Ray – I didn’t expect you here today.’
‘I thought I’d surprise you,’ he replied cheerily.
‘I see.’ Linda sounded distinctly underwhelmed. She seemed distracted, glancing round the shop before laying the flowers down on the counter.
Ray cleared his throat, trying to stay positive. ‘I wondered if there was any chance of you knocking off a bit early? I thought we could go grab a bite to eat or something.’
‘I don’t know about that.’ Linda frowned. ‘We’ve got a lot on here, and I’m right in the middle of doing this display for the Guildhall. You could have rung and given me a bit of warning.’
‘It wouldn’t have been a surprise then, would it?’ Ray said lightly. ‘What about the St Giles for afternoon tea? You used to love doing that.’
‘What’s come over you, Dad?’ Rose teased, picking up one of the peonies and twirling the stem between her fingers.
Ray shuffled awkwardly, looking embarrassed. ‘Nothing. I just thought I’d treat my wife for once. Make an effort.’ He turned back to Linda, feeling as though he was issuing a challenge. There was no real reason for her to turn him down, but he got the distinct impression that she didn’t want to go. ‘So, what do you say?’ he pressed.
‘Well… I don’t know…’
‘Oh, go on, Mum,’ Rose encouraged. ‘We’re quietening down now, and I can always finish that Guildhall arrangement.’
Linda felt cornered. She looked from Ray to Rose, and then back again. ‘Okay,’ she agreed finally. ‘I’ll just put in the gypsophila, then grab my coat.’
As she headed through to the back of the shop, Rose grinned at her father. ‘Trying to recapture the romance?’
‘Something like that,’ Ray admitted, aware that his daughter was uncomfortably close to the truth.
‘Good for you,’ she beamed. ‘It’s nice for you two to spend a bit of quality time together. And Mum could certainly do with a treat, after today.’
‘Have you been busy?’
‘Yeah, it’s been manic. All the Valentine’s orders are starting to come through, and it’s only going to get worse over the next week. You know we’re always rushed off our feet at this time of year.’
Ray smiled sentimentally. ‘And of course, your mother’s the only woman I know who doesn’t want an enormous bouquet on Valentine’s Day.’
‘No, Mum’s always sick of the sight of them,’ Rose laughed.
Expressions was a family business, established by Linda almost thirty years ago. When her three children – Rose, Marianne and Robbie – started school, Linda found herself at something of a loose end. She’d always dreamt of owning a flower shop and, using a small inheritance she’d received, coupled with a loan from the bank, she scraped together enough to buy the tiny shop on Pottergate. With hard work and a lot of love, she converted the property from an old fishmongers into the pretty little florist’s, and over the years she’d seen it flourish into a thriving business.
As the kids grew older, they took turns helping out at weekends and school holidays. Rose discovered that she’d inherited her mother’s creative flair, as well as her passion for flowers, and when she left college she came to work for the business full time.
Now Expressions employed a Saturday girl, Katie, and Linda had planned to cut down her hours in recent years, but somehow that hadn’t quite happened. Almost every day, she could still be found creating beautiful bouquets in the little workshop out the back, or serving her regular customers in the shop. Having built the business up from scratch, Linda was reluctant to let it go.
‘By the way, I checked with Mum, and she said it’d be fine for you to have Josh and Harry tomorrow night,’ Rose continued. ‘Adam’s offered to take me out for dinner. It’s our date night, so I couldn’t really say no.’
Ray nodded thoughtfully. Between babysitting their grandchildren, working part time in their respective jobs, and looking after Linda’s elderly mother, it sometimes felt as though he and his wife barely got to see each other.
Linda emerged from the back, fastening her thick woollen coat. She pulled on her gloves – there was a bitter wind today – and settled the strap of her handbag on her shoulder.
‘Now are you sure you’ll be all right, Rose? Because I don’t mind staying on.’
‘I’ll be fine. You get off and have a lovely afternoon. Make sure to bring me back a slice of cake,’ Rose replied, only half-joking.
‘See you later, love,’ Ray called, as he opened the door for Linda and followed her outside.
‘So what’s all this about then?’ she asked suspiciously, as they set off walking towards St Giles Street.
‘It just seemed like a while since we’d done anything special together. I thought I’d be spontaneous,’ Ray explained, reaching out to take Linda’s hand.
The gesture felt awkward and unnatural, and Ray realised that he couldn’t remember the last time they’d held hands in public. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d displayed any kind of physical affection towards one other at all. It was one of the many things that seemed to have fallen by the wayside, leaving them as little more than long-term acquaintances who happened to share a house. They communicated about whether they were running short of milk, and who was going to take the car for its service, or what was on the television tonight, but it was years since they’d talked about anything s
ignificant. Ray hoped that today would mark the start of a change between them.
They strolled along briskly, making small talk, until they reached the beautiful baroque building that was the St Giles House Hotel. Ray rested a hand on his wife’s back as they walked up the front steps, heading across the black and white parquet floor and into the cosy lounge.
‘Table for two, for afternoon tea, please.’
‘Certainly.’ The young waitress smiled at them as she showed them to a table by the far window. ‘I’ll bring your tea and cakes over shortly.’
‘Well, this is all very nice,’ Linda commented, looking slightly cheerier as she took off her coat and glanced around the room. It was smartly decorated in shades of burgundy and chocolate brown, and piano music was playing quietly in the background. Half a dozen of the other tables were occupied, and there was a low buzz of chatter, a tinkling of crockery.
‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘Oh, Rose asked if we could have the boys tomorrow night,’ Linda remembered. ‘I said it wouldn’t be a problem.’
‘Yes, she mentioned it,’ Ray nodded. ‘Adam’s taking her for dinner, apparently.’
‘Well, you’re only young once, aren’t you? It’s good for them to have some time on their own, away from the kids.’
Ray nodded again, but couldn’t seem to stop the words from bubbling up inside of him: ‘What about us? When are we going to have some time alone together?’
His tone was resentful, and Linda looked shocked.
‘We’re having time alone together now, aren’t we? Surely you don’t begrudge Rose and Adam a night out? She works so hard in the shop.’
‘It’s not that,’ Ray began earnestly, stopping short as the waitress came back over carrying two large pots of tea. She set them down, returning moments later with a three-tiered cake stand laden with sandwiches, fresh scones and delicate bite-size desserts.
‘Mmm, this all looks delicious,’ Linda remarked, helping herself to a triangular-shaped cucumber sandwich with the crusts cut off.
Ray took an egg and cress one, although he could rapidly feel his appetite deserting him. He hoped Linda would be open to what he had to say, but the thought of broaching the subject of therapy with her was truly terrifying.
‘We should do this kind of thing more often,’ Ray suggested, as he blew across the surface of his tea to cool it. ‘Don’t you think? Just you and me, taking time for ourselves, without the kids or the grandkids.’
Linda made a non-committal noise, and Ray pushed on, ‘I mean, once we both took semi-retirement, I thought we’d be able to treat ourselves more often, but that flower shop seems to take up as much of your time as it ever did.’
Linda put her cup down sharply; there was a loud chink as it hit the saucer. ‘Is that what this is about?’ she demanded, her eyes flashing angrily. ‘The fact that I’m still working in Expressions? I built that shop up from nothing, as well you know, and I enjoy working there. It gives me a sense of purpose that I wouldn’t get from playing golf,’ she finished pointedly.
Ray ignored the insult and pressed on. ‘But there doesn’t seem to be time for us any more and, quite frankly, I miss it. I miss the closeness, I miss the intimacy, and most of all, I miss you,’ he finished softly, sliding his hand across the table to take hold of Linda’s.
She snatched it away furiously. ‘Oh, I see what this is really all about. The closeness, the intimacy,’ she parodied him. ‘It all comes down to S-E-X with you, doesn’t it?’ A half-eaten miniature éclair lay discarded on her plate, as Linda pursed her lips tightly.
‘It is important to me, yes,’ Ray acknowledged. He kept his voice low, even though the room was largely empty and the nearest people to them – two women in their mid-twenties – were three tables away and not paying the slightest bit of attention as they giggled and gossiped over a bottle of champagne.
‘Yes, well, I’m fifty-eight. I’ll be drawing a pension in a few years. Excuse me if I’m not swinging from the chandeliers every night,’ Linda hissed.
‘I’m not expecting that – just now and again would be nice. I’m fifty-nine, not dead,’ Ray shot back.
The two of them glared at each other, the tension heavy in the air between them. Without speaking, Linda stabbed a scone, deftly slicing it in two and smothering it with cream and jam. She began eating in silence, completely ignoring her husband.
Finally, Ray let out a long sigh. ‘I’ve been thinking that maybe we should go and see someone.’
‘See someone? What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Someone like… a counsellor. Or a therapist.’
There, he had finally said it! Ray swallowed nervously, waiting to see what Linda’s reaction would be.
‘I do not need therapy.’ She looked furious, and Ray felt glad that they were in a public place where Linda couldn’t make a scene. ‘Maybe you need to be a little more understanding.’
‘I have been understanding. But this isn’t a healthy situation, love. I’m trying to do something about it, not ignore it until it’s too late and we’re both old and unhappy.’
‘I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much.’
‘No,’ Ray said gently. ‘You’re not. We’re not.’
Linda fumed silently, thinking about what Ray had just said. Finally, she burst out: ‘So you want me to go and see someone? You want me to stand around in my underwear while some strange man pokes and prods at me? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous!’
‘It’s not like that,’ Ray insisted. ‘It’s more about talking – working through whatever issues we’ve got, and then being given exercises to try at home. Annie said that we—’ Too late, Ray realised his mistake, and quickly shut up.
Linda looked at him sharply. ‘Annie? Who’s Annie?’
‘She’s… she’s a therapist,’ Ray admitted, realising that he’d dug himself into a hole. ‘Specialising in relationships. I went to see her last week.’
Linda’s mouth fell open. ‘You did what? You went to see a stranger, and you told them our private business?’
‘Linda, it’s—’
‘You told another woman that you weren’t satisfied with our marriage?’
‘Please, love,’ Ray begged. ‘It wasn’t like that. She’s there to help us. We can have individual meetings with her, and she also runs group sessions at the weekend—’
‘Group sessions?’ Linda looked outraged. ‘What exactly are you expecting from me, Raymond? You want me to participate in some kind of orgy, is that it? That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘No, no, it’s nothing like that,’ Ray explained hastily. ‘It’s more like group therapy, apparently, and Annie thinks it could be really helpful for us. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to…’ He trailed off, his expression desperate as he looked over at his wife. ‘I just want us to be how we used to be. I don’t even… I don’t even know if you love me any more.’
Ray’s voice cracked on the final words, and he looked thoroughly defeated. His head was bowed, his hands resting limply on the tablecloth beside his untouched plate of food.
Linda stared at him across the table. Her face was stricken, her eyes wide and shiny with tears. ‘I… I don’t know either,’ she admitted, and her voice was little more than a whisper.
7
Chapter Seven
‘No sex is better than bad sex’ – Germaine Greer
Annie cautiously approached the man standing at the bar, quickly taking in his appearance. Smartly dressed in relaxed jeans and a fitted T-shirt, his hair was freshly washed and his shoes shiny. At first glance, there were no obvious flaws, and he was definitely attractive.
He said something to the barmaid, and she laughed – apparently he was funny too. So why did Annie feel as though she wanted to run away, a sinking sensation in her stomach accompanied by sweaty palms and a mild feeling of nausea?
Oh, why had she ever agreed to this? She could be sat at home right now,
watching The Great British Bake Off, while Harry and Sally swam contentedly beside her.
Is that what you want? a voice inside her head demanded. To grow old and alone – not even a crazy cat lady, but a crazy goldfish lady?
Taking a deep breath, Annie strode over to the man, a bright smile plastered on her face.
‘Tom?’
‘Annie! Lovely to meet you,’ he exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek. ‘How did you know it was me?’
‘I recognised you from your Facebook photo,’ Annie admitted. Then, realising that it might sound as though she’d been stalking him, she quickly added, ‘I mean, Holly, my sister – Greg’s wife – showed me your picture.’
‘Yeah, Greg showed me yours too,’ Tom nodded thoughtfully, continuing to stare at her. ‘You know, you look different, somehow, from your photo.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yeah.’ Tom frowned, and Annie couldn’t help but feel slightly disconcerted.
‘I’m not sure why,’ she laughed. ‘It was taken a couple of years ago, but I don’t think I’ve changed that much.’
‘Right,’ Tom smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that was definitely appealing. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Yes, please, that’d be lovely. I’ll have a glass of red wine.’
‘Good choice. Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll bring it over?’
‘Thanks,’ Annie smiled, as she made her way over to a high round table with two stools. So far it was going pretty well, she reflected. There were no fireworks or crowds of angels singing, but he was a good-looking guy, and she was willing to give him a chance – for Holly’s sake, if nothing else.