by Imogen Clark
‘Watty? No. He’s still crying himself to sleep.’
‘It’s such a shame for the wee lamb. It’s not easy leaving home. It’s a big adjustment.’
‘He just needs to grow a pair.’
‘Sebastian!’
‘I’ve brought my washing home, Mum. You don’t mind, do you? I was going to stay and do it but then I thought that would be less time with you two so I just bundled it all into a bag and brought it back.’
Frank snorted from behind his paper.
‘That’s fine, dear. We’ve plenty of time to run a couple of loads through the machine.’
Tessa moved so that she was standing right next to Sebastian and began to play with the lobe of his ear as he talked. It was all a bit unnecessary, Dorothy thought, but she tried to ignore it.
‘So, who’s coming to this shindig?’ asked Sebastian.
‘It’s more of a gathering than a shindig. It’ll be just us and I thought I might invite Marjorie and Malcolm.’
‘God! Do you have to?’
‘Well, is it not a bit rude to leave them out? They’ll be hearing us through the wall.’
‘Let them listen. Please, Mum. Don’t invite them. Anna will hate it and it is her party.’
‘Well, maybe I won’t. It might look a bit like an afterthought anyway.’
‘Is Clare bringing Dicken? He’s a good bloke. I like him.’
‘We think so, don’t we, Frank. And Miriam and Richard and the girls, obviously. And Anna and Melissa and that’s the lot. Oh, and River.’
Sebastian sighed. ‘I won’t have to entertain him, will I?’
‘Well, there’s no one else for him to play with. He’s not interested in his cousins. They’re far too small. And he is your nephew.’
‘He’s a pain in the backside, that’s what he is.’
‘Don’t say that, Sebastian. He’s a nice boy, just a bit unsettled. It can’t be easy, always being on the move.’
‘Last time he came, he completely destroyed that Airfix model of mine. It took me months to make that. Months!’
‘Sure that was an accident.’
‘It so wasn’t. He threw it down the stairs on purpose to see if it would fly even though I told him it was just a model. And Tessa’s here too, remember. I can’t leave her to cope on her own with the sisters. Freak Boy will just have to entertain himself.’
‘Don’t speak about your nephew like that, please, Sebastian,’ said Frank sternly. ‘If you haven’t got anything nice to say then you can keep it zipped.’
‘Okay. Sorry. But honestly, Mum. Don’t make me look after him.’
‘Well, we’ll see how things pan out. Perhaps he’ll bring something to do.’
‘Right, then!’ said Sebastian, bouncing up from the sofa in one easy movement. He’s starting to look like a man, thought Dorothy, and part of her mourned that cherubic little boy with blond curls that she would never again bounce on her knee. ‘We’re going to take my stuff upstairs. Am I in my room?’
‘We’ve not let it out just yet,’ said Frank. ‘We thought we’d wait until your second year!’
‘Oh, ha ha!’
‘Yes, dear. And I’ll put Tessa in Anna’s old room.’
Dorothy registered the glance that passed between her husband and son but there’d be none of that business under her roof. ‘I’ve changed the sheets,’ she continued, ‘and there’s a clean towel on the bed. If you want to bring your washing downstairs, Sebastian, I can make a start on it and then I’ll get on with the tea.’
Sebastian and Tessa left the room and disappeared upstairs, Sebastian’s bag thumping against the steps on the way.
‘It’s nice to have him back,’ said Dorothy. ‘The house feels so empty without him.’
And then, when she was sure that they were out of earshot, she added, ‘Tessa seems nice?’
It came out as a question, and Dorothy realised that she was looking for confirmation from Frank.
‘She’s a looker, certainly,’ Frank said, shaking his newspaper and folding it neatly into quarters. ‘I’ll bet she doesn’t take any prisoners.’
Before Dorothy had chance to ask him what he meant, he stood up.
‘Right. Is there just time for a quick stroll before tea?’
This was Frank’s code for a trip to the pub for a pint and a chat.
‘I suppose so,’ she replied reluctantly. ‘But if you’re not back by half past six, you’ll be fishing yours out of the bin.’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
Dorothy heard the front door shut and Sebastian walking about overhead. She smiled. It was going to be a lovely weekend. Or at least she hoped it would be.
II
‘Who the hell eats salmon-paste sandwiches?’
‘Shut up and keep spreading!’
Sebastian and Frank had got a production line going for the finger buffet whilst Dorothy coordinated operations, although she was sure it would have been easier just to do it all herself. Tessa had disappeared back to Anna’s old bedroom and Dorothy had so far resisted the urge to go and check that she was all right. Perhaps she was working, although it seemed more likely that she was lying low. Dorothy got the impression that Tessa didn’t think that much of the Bliss family so far. She tried to put it from her mind. She had enough to deal with already.
‘Have you finished the ham ones?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Ma’am. All present and correct, Ma’am!’ said Frank with a salute which flicked salmon paste from the knife that he was holding and into Sebastian’s hair.
‘Dad! Watch what you’re doing. That’s gross.’ Sebastian began to part his hair to find the stray lump of paste.
‘Do you have to do that near the food, Sebastian?’ Dorothy was beginning to lose patience.
‘What do you want me to do? Leave it there for later?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, love. I just meant that it’s not very hygienic to be playing with your hair just where you’re making the sandwiches.’
‘Well, it’s not very hygienic to be flicking food around the place but I don’t notice you telling Dad off.’
‘No insubordination in the ranks!’ said Frank ‘Be quiet or I shall issue you with a regulation hairnet.’
‘Could you not just concentrate, please?’ said Dorothy. ‘They’ll be here any minute and I still haven’t got changed.’
‘You go and make yourself even more beautiful, my darling, and me laddo and I will finish the sandwiches.’
‘Well, if you’re sure you can be trusted,’ said Dorothy doubtfully. ‘Can you cling-film the plates when they’re done and pop them in the fridge? And then there’s the crisps to be put in bowls. They’re in the pantry. Don’t put them all out. I’ll save some in case we have to rustle up some more food later on.’
‘You see that?’ asked Frank to Sebastian. ‘Always planning ahead, that’s your mother. You can learn a lot from her, Sebastian my son.
‘Oh, for the love of God, will you not just get on with it?’ said Dorothy, but she was smiling. How could she not? Her men were here in her kitchen and all was right in the world. Or at least, that’s what she was hoping.
She made her way upstairs and into their bedroom. Her dress, all pressed and ready to go, was hanging on the outside of the wardrobe door. She cast a critical eye over it. It was a deep azure-blue with a fine black stripe and enormous shoulder pads, which looked even larger as it hung on the hanger. She had picked out some huge blue earrings to go with it but now she found herself wondering whether it wasn’t all a little bit much. Shoulder pads were very dating. Everyone would know that the dress wasn’t new. They made her look slim, though, and who cared if it was an old dress. It was only family coming. Well, and Tessa. She really wanted to make a good impression there for Sebastian’s sake but she could already picture her son’s girlfriend turning her pretty nose up at her outfit. And there was Dicken, of course, but he wouldn’t notice what she wore, let alone sneer at it.
She opened the wardrobe, scanning
its contents before declaring it all unfit for purpose. There was nothing else suitable unless she chose something more casual and she really did want to make an effort for Anna’s special day. The dress would have to do. She slipped her stripy apron over her head and undid the cord of her dressing gown. Having bathed earlier, she was already wearing her magic pants, which squeezed at her stomach uncompromisingly. She peered at her image in the dressing table mirror, which, as it was only small, meant that she could only take in parts of herself at a time. It was a good job. The magic pants were great at flattering her tummy but the extra displaced flesh just seemed to splurge out at the edges. For a more convincing trim outline, she was going to need more than just magic pants.
She pulled a slip out of her top drawer and stepped into it. Then, removing the dress from the hanger, she lowered it over her head, taking care not to mess up her blow-dried hair. She fastened the buttons as far as she could up her back and straightened the belt. Then she stepped into her black court shoes and examined herself as best she could in the tiny mirror. Well, it wasn’t great but it was as good as she could manage. She sat at the dressing table to begin doing her make-up.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Mum? Can I come in?’
‘Anna! Is that you? I didn’t hear you arrive. Come in! Come in!’
The door pushed open and Anna appeared. She was wearing jeans and a faded sweatshirt.
‘Happy birthday, darling.’
Anna bent down to kiss Dorothy on the cheek.
‘Thanks, Mum. I hope you don’t mind that I’m here a bit early. I was a bit lonely all by myself. Do you need a hand with those buttons?’
Anna gently fastened the dress up the back.
‘You’re not that early. The others will be here in a few minutes. Are you going to get changed up here?’
‘I wasn’t going to get changed,’ said Anna. ‘It’s only us, isn’t it?’
‘But you’ve got jeans on, Anna. You can’t wear jeans. Not to your own thirtieth birthday party.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, you ought to at least look like you’ve made an effort.’
‘I have made an effort. I got dressed! I’ve brushed my hair. I’ve even got lipstick on!’
‘Oh, you know what I mean, Anna. And Sebastian’s Tessa seems . . .’ Dorothy hesitated, not wanting to seem disloyal. ‘Seems very particular.’
‘She’s just a student. She won’t care what we’re wearing,’ replied Anna.
Dorothy decided to let Anna make her own mind up. It was probably just her feeling inferior and nothing to do with Tessa at all.
‘Even so, love,’ Dorothy said. ‘Will you not make a bit of an effort?’
‘Well, I haven’t brought anything else with me, Mum, so that’s that. Honestly. I’m thirty years old. Can’t I decide what I want to wear to my own party?’
‘I suppose so.’ Dorothy bit her tongue. She should be pleased that her lovely daughter wanted to spend her big day with her family. That would have to be enough.
She began to apply foundation to her face. ‘I swear I have more wrinkles every day,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure if this stuff makes them look better or worse.’
‘You look great, Mum.’
Dorothy didn’t look too closely at her daughter as she said this. If Anna was flattering her then she would rather just not know. She was sixty-five, for God’s sake. She should lower her expectations a little. Her own mother had considered herself old at this age but she still felt like a young woman. Well, she did in her heart. It was a slightly different story in her knees.
The front door banged.
‘Oh, who’s that now?’ Dorothy said, flustered anew. ‘I haven’t got my face on and the towel needs changing in the downstairs loo and Lord only knows what those boys are up to in the kitchen.’
‘Don’t panic. You stay here and finish your make-up. I’ll go and head whoever it is off at the pass. Dad will give them a drink. Are the clean towels in the airing cupboard?’
Anna left in search of towels and Dorothy continued with her face, carefully drawing on her eyebrows and reddening her cheeks. Was the dress too much after all? Perhaps she should change it? Maybe everyone would be as casual as Anna. She didn’t want to look overdressed. Oh! What the heck! She was ready now.
By the time she got back downstairs, Miriam was standing in the kitchen, Abigail swinging from her arm in a car seat. She had made an effort with her clothes at least, and Dorothy relaxed a little. Miriam looked tired, though, her skin a little grey and all the life gone from her hair. She would speak to Richard at a quieter moment, make sure that he was doing his fair share with those granddaughters of hers. Small children were not easy. Dorothy remembered Miriam when she was Abigail’s age. Hadn’t she nearly killed her once when she was teething? Unbidden, her mind took her to the café on the corner, to StJohn who had been there for her when she had been at her lowest ebb. Even now, she could still picture his thoughtful eyes. She hadn’t seen him for so many years but her memories of that time were still sharp. After their meetings in the park that spring when Miriam was small, the two of them had become so close for a while. Too close, maybe. StJohn had provided her with something that she had needed so badly, something that Frank couldn’t give. It was hard to put her finger on exactly what it had been. Compassion, perhaps? Understanding certainly. He had shown her that just because she hadn’t taken to motherhood like a duck to water it didn’t make her a bad mother. Of course now, more than thirty years later, Dorothy understood that being a good mother was about more than stopping a child from crying or doing endless jigsaw puzzles with them, but back then she had judged herself against those benchmarks and found herself lacking. StJohn had taught her to be gentler on herself.
Guilt rose up in her now, though, and she felt her cheeks burn at the memories. She busied herself with the glasses and hoped that no one would notice the glow that was radiating from her. Yes, Miriam needed to be nurtured right now or who knew what might happen. She would definitely speak to Richard.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Miriam said. ‘You look nice. Richard’s just bringing stuff in from the car. Rosie has fallen asleep so I thought we could leave her for ten minutes and then give her a poke. She’ll be less of a handful if she’s had a sleep. I’ll feed them both early, if that’s okay with you. Then I can relax and Richard can look after them for a bit. It’s his turn, I reckon.’
‘I don’t mind taking a turn,’ said Anna, breezing in from the hall, towel in hand. ‘I love my little nieces, don’t I?’ she said in exaggerated tones to Abigail, who beamed and raised her arms to be picked up.
‘Can I take her out of there?’ Anna asked.
‘You can if you’re prepared to deal with the consequences,’ Miriam said sternly. ‘Once she gets free of those straps there’ll be no getting her back in!’
‘Well, maybe we can leave her be a little bit longer,’ said Anna. ‘How are you, sis?’
‘Exhausted. As usual,’ said Miriam with a weary smile.
‘How’s work going?’
‘The kids are fine. They’re quite pleased to have me back. Not sure the supply teacher was up to much. But my head of department seems to have forgotten my name and keeps fixing meetings for the early evening, which I can’t make because I have to get back to the nursery in time to pick the girls up. It’s really unfair of him. The male staff members don’t have a problem. In fact it probably suits them to avoid bath time at their houses, but for us working mums . . .’
‘There’ll be none of that Women’s Lib talk in my house,’ said Frank as he walked into the kitchen. ‘How are my two favourite girls?’
‘Excuse me!’ said Dorothy, pretending to be affronted but also slightly irritated that Frank had interrupted Miriam. She saw Anna about to take Frank on but Miriam shook her head at her.
‘You, my darling, are no girl,’ Frank continued. ‘You are all woman.’ He threw his arms around Dorothy’s waist and spun her round on the spot.
‘Frank! Stop it. Put me down,’ said Dorothy, patting her hair back into conformity.
‘Ew. Get a room, you two,’ said Sebastian as he strolled into the kitchen, towelling his damp hair.
‘Hi, Seb.’
‘Hi, little bro. How’s it going in the big grown-up world of university?’
‘Great, thanks. Lots of beer. Lots of gigs. Not much work.’
‘Sebastian,’ chipped in Frank. ‘Now don’t you be telling tales of your debauchery in front of your mother. You know how she worries.’
‘Joking, Dad. Just joking. It’s going really well, actually. My tutor thinks I have natural talent and flair.’
‘And unlimited modesty,’ said Anna, punching him gently on the arm. ‘Seriously, though, Seb, if a flair for Maths is something you aspire to then that’s all good.’
Dorothy felt her heart swell a little. Here they were, her beautiful children, all grown-up and teasing each other. If only this cheerful mood could be sustained for the whole afternoon. She would cross her fingers but her joints were so stiff these days that it wasn’t really an option. She crossed them in her head.
‘And where’s this girlfriend that we’ve been hearing all about? I want to meet her so I can tell her what a nasty little scrote you were when you were growing up,’ laughed Anna.
‘She’s just upstairs. She’ll be down in a minute,’ replied Sebastian.
‘Have you met her, Mum?’ asked Anna with a wink. ‘What’s she like? Quick! Tell all before she gets here.’
What should Dorothy say? That she found Tessa aloof and standoffish and ever so slightly patronising? No. Of course not. She would leave the girls to reach their own conclusions.
‘She seems like a lovely girl,’ she said neutrally.
‘And she’s a looker,’ said Frank.
‘Dad! Women’s rights really have passed you by, haven’t they?’
‘I’m just reporting what I see like the good journo that I am.’
‘She’s fabulous,’ Sebastian chipped in. ‘And considerably more beautiful than any of you lot,’ he added with a smirk.
Anna swung her arm around and clouted her brother across the head, narrowly missing Abigail, who was watching with great interest from her car seat.