A Little Love

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘Yes, all of the above, but that’s not the reason.’

  ‘Mmm… another reason, let me think.’ He stroked his chin with pantomime theatricality. ‘You’ve got a jealous lover hiding in the wings with a crowbar? You’re about to turn into a pumpkin? Someone has super-glued your feet to that very spot?’

  Pru looked at the floor. ‘No, nothing like that. I’m just not sure how to dance.’

  Christopher stared at her for a second. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, Miss Plum, I think you might be making this a tad more complicated than it needs to be. Now, put your bag on the table and take my hand.’

  Pru did just that, letting him guide her through the crowd of bright young things. By the time they reached the dance floor, the song was coming to a close. The band immediately launched into the next number, ‘They Can’t Take That Away From Me’, which was softer, slower and quite sultry.

  Christopher placed one arm in the small of her back and drew her into his form, holding her closely with her hand inside his. He broke into a slow waltz. ‘Don’t over-think it, just let me lead you,’ he breathed into her hair.

  She nodded against his shoulder, feeling the soft cloth of his suit jacket against her chin. Pru hardly dared to breathe as she tried to copy his footwork. Miraculously she found the rhythm, learning the steps as they hovered together at the edge of the dance floor. The song finished too soon and the two held their pose for a second longer than was strictly necessary.

  ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he whispered.

  Her voice too was small. ‘No. Not too bad at all.’

  At 8 p.m. her car was waiting, as agreed. Pru held her shoes in her hand, having finally given up on the heels and pointy toes that had pinched her feet all afternoon, and tiptoed in her bare feet over the grass and gravel. Bobby was staying with her prospective mother-in-law for a couple of days and had kissed her aunt firmly on the cheek, hugging her tightly before being whisked away to the dance floor by a couple of her fiancé’s eager friends. William and Isabel were nowhere to be seen. Christopher, however, strolled by her side.

  ‘D’you know, I was dreading today. These things always feel like a bit of a duty on your one day off. But it’s been lovely, unexpectedly lovely.’

  ‘Yes, it has,’ she agreed. ‘Thanks for keeping me company. I think I’d have snuck off hours ago if you hadn’t rescued me.’

  ‘It’s been my absolute pleasure.’ The way he smiled into her eyes told her he was sincere. ‘I was wondering…’ Christopher coughed.

  ‘Wondering what?’ Pru felt her heart thud against her ribs and her cheeks flame slightly. She was torn between wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible, exhausted by the weight of emotion she was feeling, and not wanting to say goodbye.

  ‘Well, I was wondering what route your driver takes. Tell him to take the M40; anything else will be a bugger at this time of night.’

  ‘Will do.’ She swallowed, at once disappointed as well as relieved, not quite sure what she had expected or hoped for.

  Christopher opened the door of the shiny Mercedes and waited as she slid into the back. Pru stared at her hands folded in her lap and prayed that he wouldn’t hug or touch her in any way, not knowing how to react if he did. She envisaged having to reach up through the car door and could picture a number of ways in which this might end awkwardly. Thankfully, he closed the door and raised his palm in goodbye. She watched him getting smaller as dusk fell on the most extraordinary day.

  It was dark by the time the driver delivered her back to Curzon Street. Milly was in the sitting room, watching An Affair to Remember on TV, curled up in her tiger suit. She nursed a healthy portion of apple tatin and clotted cream.

  Pru nodded at the enormous bowl of pudding. ‘Feeling a bit better then, Mills?’

  ‘Much. How was it? Bobby okay? Thought you weren’t going to be late – it’s nearly ten o’clock!’

  As usual, Pru selected which questions to answer and in what order. ‘Oh, Bob was in her element, showing off her diamond and twirling on the dance floor. Isabel made a big fuss of her, she’s a nice lady really, not necessarily our cup of tea maybe, but friendly enough. Apparently, since her husband died she’s tended to get a bit carried away with anything that’s a diversion.’ At least that’s what her brother told me, Sir Christopher… ‘It made me sad to think of Alfie, what he would have said if he’d seen her. He’d have been so proud.’

  Milly nodded. ‘You all right, Pru?’

  ‘Yes, why?’ She almost snapped.

  ‘Don’t know. You look a bit dewy-eyed, are you sloshed?’

  ‘No! Only had one or two early on and that was more of a prop, then I switched to cranberry juice.’

  Milly waved her hand in front of her face, impatient. ‘Anyway, I don’t care about that, what was the cake like? Did you get a photo?’

  Pru considered her response. She and Christopher had been sitting by the lake and had missed the arrival of the cake; and by the time they saw it, all that remained was a mountain of crumbs and squares of royal icing. She pondered how best to break this to her cousin.

  ‘Ah, the cake. Well, therein lays a tale. I missed it.’

  Milly was all ears, sitting forward. ‘You missed it?’ Her tone was accusatory.

  ‘Yep. Sorry.’

  ‘I’ve been sitting here all day, waiting to hear and you missed it?’

  ‘Yes, Milly. And now I’m off to bed!’

  ‘But I want to hear about their house and the buffet!’ She sounded more than a little angry.

  ‘Well, next time, don’t eat five-day-old chicken and then you can see it for yourself, can’t you!’

  Milly huffed. ‘Did you nick anything?’

  ‘Did I nick anything?’

  ‘Yeah, you know, like an ashtray or a fork?’

  Pru stared at her, trying to find the words. ‘Milly, I have never nicked anything in my life and if I was going to start, it wouldn’t be from Bobby’s future family!’

  ‘I was only asking!’ Milly tutted.

  ‘Only asking? Why? Would you have nicked something then?’

  Milly twitched her nose and sucked in her cheeks. ‘Well, I’m not sure I should say now.’

  ‘I give up. I really do. It’s like living with the love child of Fagin and Tony off the Frosties box.’

  Pru shook her head as she turned and walked from the room without looking back. The rustling of Milly’s fake fur and tap of her ring on the bowl of pud told Pru that her exit was being followed by a hand gesture. She doubted it was a wave.

  4

  Three days had passed, three days in which Pru had hardly slept and couldn’t eat. Her gut was filled with a bubble of excitement that crowded her stomach. She spent most of her waking day, and a large part of the night, replaying each word they had exchanged and every second of their dance, recalling how her hand had sat inside his, the feel of his suit cloth beneath her chin and the weight of him as he moved against her. The more she tried to picture his face, the more detail she seemed to lose; she wished she had a photo. She chastised herself for any inadvertent misdemeanour: why hadn’t she been keener to dance? Had he thought she was standoffish? Cool? The very idea made her laugh. She was a wreck.

  ‘Hellooooooo!’ Bobby’s voice filled the staircase and was followed by thumping footsteps as she and William arrived back from Oxford.

  Pru was in the kitchen. ‘Hello, loves!’ She turned her cheek for easy access and accepted the kiss that her niece offered. ‘Have you had a lovely time?’

  ‘Really lovely. It’s been wonderful! And wasn’t the cake incredible, but please don’t tell Mills I said that.’

  ‘The cake? Oh, I don’t even know if she knew you were having one.’ Pru shrugged.

  ‘I’m still on cloud nine. Wasn’t the party great?’

  Pru nodded. Oh yes, it had been great. ‘It really was, I sent your mum some flowers, Billy-boy. I hope she got them?’

  ‘Yes, she did. They were beautiful and she�
��s dropping you a line to say thanks.’

  ‘Oh, she doesn’t need to do that. In fact I should be writing to her: I promised I’d send her some of Guy’s drawings and ideas for the big cake design. We can become pen pals!’ Pru laughed. She was still ridiculously giddy for no apparent reason.

  ‘We have been busy, you know, Aunty Pru, not just lounging in the garden and drinking Pimm’s – although a lot of that, admittedly. But guess what?’

  ‘What?’ Pru asked, turning to face them, trying to show some interest.

  ‘We’ve booked our honeymoon!’ Bobby clapped as she jumped up and down, zigzagging across the kitchen until she ended up bashing into William, who caught her and held her still. He shook his head in an adoring but exasperated fashion.

  ‘Ooh, lovely! Where are you going?’

  ‘Well, the brother of William’s friend Piers has a villa in Ibiza.’

  ‘Very trendy!’ Pru said, having never been to Ibiza herself, though she had heard it mentioned on the TV and in magazines.

  Bobby twisted her mouth and bit the inside of her cheek. ‘No. Not very trendy. We are not going to the touristy bit. This villa is on the quiet side of the island. We’ve hired it for three weeks and it’s got a private pool! I’m so excited!’ She clapped again, but was unable to bounce as William had her anchored in his arms.

  When he was content she wasn’t about to bound off again, he released her and stepped back, leaning on the doorframe, filling the gap. He folded his arms across his broad chest and watched as Pru made a cup of tea. ‘You look very well, Pru. If you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘No, I don’t mind at all! Thank you, love. I feel it.’

  ‘Is there any reason for that, anything you want to share with us?’ He smirked and pursed his lips.

  ‘William! I said we were not to mention it!’ Bobby thumped his chest feebly with her fist.

  ‘I can’t help it!’ He caught her wrist and laughed as she doubled over.

  Pru placed the teaspoon on the granite counter top and turned her attention to the two giggling lumps in front of her. ‘All right, let’s have it!’ She put her hands on her hips.

  Bobby’s eyes were twinkling with excitement. ‘I’m sorry, Pru, it’s just that Isabel said she saw you and Christopher chatting down by the lake on Sunday for hours and someone told her that you’d been smooching – that’s their word, not mine! And you did seem to be getting on very well.’ Bobby paused to allow Pru to comment. She declined and so Bobby tried again. ‘Then, apparently, he called her on Monday to say that you’d spent the most delightful time together. That was the word he used, “delightful”!’

  ‘Delightful!’ William echoed.

  ‘Did he now?’ Pru tried to look stern but was beyond happy that he had called Isabel and shared this. She felt like she wanted to dance! ‘Well, be sure to let me know if there is any other gossip floating around that you think I should be aware of.’ She collected her mug and the newspaper from the work surface and tried to squeeze past.

  ‘So, are you going to see him again? Come on, you can’t leave it there! We need to know the details.’ Bobby was inches from her aunt’s face.

  ‘Do you now? The truth is, I don’t know if or when I’m seeing him again, and even if I did, I would hardly share that information with you two, just so you can laugh at us.’

  ‘Us? Is there an “us” already? That uncle of mine is a fast worker!’ William held up his raised palm for Bobby to high-five.

  ‘Sod off, both of you!’ It was the best Pru could come up with.

  ‘Pru, I do believe you are blushing!’ William sniggered.

  ‘Well, I am now, because you are saying that!’

  ‘Pru and Christopher sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!’ the two shouted before collapsing in laughter against the fridge.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Bobby, you are so childish! And anyway we didn’t do any kissing and there were certainly no trees involved. We did however have a quick whizz around the dance floor, which is quite different to a smooch.’ With that she swept from the room, leaving them to whoop and holler as she walked away.

  Delightful!

  She knocked on Milly’s door and walked into her bedroom. Her cousin was in her bed, with her glasses perched on the end of her nose and EastEnders on quietly, with the subtitles.

  ‘What’s all the bloody noise out there? I can hear those two squawking away!’

  ‘Oh, they’re having a field day, teasing me.’

  ‘Teasing you about what?’ Milly drew her knees up under the duvet.

  ‘What do you think? My new hair-do? Christopher, of course!’

  The day after the party, Pru had finally cracked and told her all about their rather lovely afternoon. She had then fired questions at her perplexed cousin. Did Milly think he liked her? What might happen next? Milly had tried to answer but eventually, exasperated, had held a cushion over each ear and watched the news, ignoring her.

  Now Milly nodded and removed her specs. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve only met him once, and so logically I don’t know how I can like him! But this doesn’t feel very logical, not at all.’

  ‘That’s not a yes or no.’

  Pru sighed. Milly knew her better than anyone else, knew what she was thinking, was familiar with her every mood. ‘Yes. Yes I do. I like him a lot. It’s weird, Mills. We just clicked and I can’t get him out of my head, not for a second, and that’s never happened to me before.’

  ‘You’ve got to enjoy it, every minute of it.’ This was Milly’s blessing. It conveyed so many things, but primarily she was saying, don’t worry about me, and go grab your chance.

  ‘D’you think so?’

  Milly nodded. ‘I don’t think, I know.’

  ‘Well, if you know, Mills, then I’d better just go with it, hadn’t I? It’s funny though. I was chatting to Alfie—’

  ‘As you do.’ Milly found her cousin’s interactions with her deceased brother a little bit bonkers.

  ‘As I do. I was telling him about Bobby, how beautiful she looked, and ping! There he was.’

  ‘Alfie?’

  ‘No, of course not Alfie! Christopher! But it was odd, almost as if Alfie sent him to me, like a gift. Does that sound a little bit mad?’

  ‘No, love. It sounds a lot mad. Anyway, I thought you were still hanging on for Tom Jones?’

  ‘No, I gave up on Tom a while ago.’

  ‘I bet he’ll be gutted, poor Tom.’ Milly sniffed.

  ‘He’ll get over it.’

  ‘It’s funny, isn’t it. There was you having a go at me for eating gone-off chicken, but if I hadn’t, I’d have been glued to your side and you might not have met him. You should be thanking me.’

  Pru slid off her cousin’s bed and opened the door. ‘You’re right. Thank you, Mills, for nearly poisoning yourself. You silly moo.’

  ‘You’re welcome, you daft cow.’

  And the two laughed, in that way that they had since they were little.

  But a week passed and Christopher still hadn’t called. Pru’s mood soured and she snapped at Guy, which she never did. Spying a batch of bloomers that were blackened on one side and fit only for the bin, she had yelled, ‘For every tray that is allowed to spoil, we lose money! Why don’t I just get a handful of fivers and put them straight in the bin? Save us both the time and effort!’

  He looked mortified. She pinched her nose and whispered her apology. ‘I’m sorry, Guy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’

  But, actually, she did know what was wrong with her. The joy at meeting Christopher had buoyed her up for the first few days, filling her with energy and a new optimism for life that took her by surprise. This had now been replaced by self-doubt and something close to embarrassment, a feeling that she might have horribly misjudged the situation. She regretted confiding in Milly and not having been more indifferent about the situation to Bobby.

  The day after the party she had checked her phone
every few minutes. Having exchanged numbers, she expected a call or a text. The thought of having to text a response, however, worried her. She wasn’t that speedy on the little keypad and could take minutes to respond; and what if he used text speak, of which she knew very little? Eventually she reassured herself that the Government Chief Whip was fairly unlikely to pepper his written communication with LOL or C U L8R – these two abbreviations she had gleaned from Bobby. But this quickly became a moot point anyway: after three days she had received neither call nor text and she was more than a little fed up.

  Pru sat at her dressing table and took a deep breath. Steeling herself, she decided to take the bull by the horns and initiate communication. After all, this was the twenty-first century: she could send the first text without being considered brazen! If he didn’t respond, she would be no worse off, but if he did, then it would have been worth this excruciating awkwardness.

  ‘This is ridiculous, Alfie. I’m so nervous! Look, my hands are sweating.’ Pru held out her palm. ‘I feel sick. I don’t want to mess it up, but I’m worried that if we don’t have contact soon, there won’t be anything to mess up. What’s the matter with me?’ She shook her head in frustration. ‘Normally I can talk to anyone, stroll into any house, however posh, and talk cake until the cows come home! And yet I can’t send a simple message. I know, I know, just get on with it.’

  She twisted her blouse in her hands until finally she exhaled. With her finger poised, she considered what to put.

  After ten minutes, she had erased both Hi there! for sounding too much like a teen catching up with someone she had snogged on Prom night, and Just wondering… for being both too formal and too familiar. It was a minefield. Pru slammed the phone down on to the wooden surface and placed her head in her hands. ‘Just give it up, Pru,’ she muttered aloud. ‘If he liked you, he’d have called you. Simple as.’

  Her finger hovered over the delete button. She figured that if she removed his contact details, it would be easier to ignore the fact that his name wasn’t flashing on her screen.