Mother's Story (7 page)

This was the night of their much anticipated Not-Christmas Dinner. As their best friends were understandably committed to attending family celebrations over the festive season, they thought it would be a good idea to have this pre-Christmas get-together. Jessica had eschewed turkey, figuring that by the time December the twenty-fifth arrived, they would all be sick of the sight of it. She had spent the whole day preparing and yet had still managed to run out of time, forced to rush at the end to catch up.

The work surfaces were wiped down. The peeled veg and spuds were roasting, a posh tiramisu was defrosting on the drainer and the dishwasher was half stacked. She loved the excited flutter in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what the evening might hold, feeling like a proper grown-up with her lovely house and her wonderful husband. There was something great about the prospect of having friends for dinner, not least the opportunity to show Matt how accomplished she was. The kitchen might have only been cleaned in the last half hour and the sofa needed a plump, but the food was on the way to being ready, lamps were on, beer was chilling and the one large glass of plonk that she was entitled to while cooking was beginning to do its job.

Matthew sauntered into the kitchen and looked from left to right, wondering if Jake or Polly had arrived early. ‘Oh! I thought I heard you talking to someone!'

‘I was.'

‘Who?' Matthew scanned the room a second time.

‘The salmon.' Jessica smiled.

‘The salmon we are having for supper?'

‘Uh huh.' She nodded.

‘Did it have anything interesting to reveal?' Matthew raised his eyebrow at his wife.

‘Not really.' Jessica sighed. ‘I think it might be a bit shy.'

‘That'll be it.' Matthew grabbed her bottom and cupped her denim rump in his hand. ‘That and the fact that you have imprisoned it in a hot oven.'

‘Don't say that! You make me feel guilty!'

‘Actually, Jess, not sure how to break it to you, but it was already dead.'

‘So
that's
why he didn't answer me!' She threw the tea towel on the sideboard and slapped her forehead.

‘You know the worrying thing about living with you is how normal your crazy has become to me.' Matthew cracked open a pistachio and threw it into his mouth.

‘What do you mean?' Jessica asked from the sink as she filled the ice-cube tray and popped it into the freezer. She remembered how impressed she'd been when Matt's mother had offered ice when they visited.

‘I dunno, I guess it's the small things that have become normal. Like not mentioning in front of any appliance that we might be considering getting a new one, for fear of upsetting them.'

Jessica scooted across the floor and placed her finger on her husband's lips as she closed in and whispered in his ear, ‘You weren't going to mention the toaster situation, were you?'

Matthew shook his head.

‘Good.' She exhaled. ‘Because if I was Tiny the toaster and I found out you were thinking of replacing me with Bertha big toaster, I might just think about packing up altogether, or catching fire in protest!'

‘Our toaster is called
Tiny
?' Matthew whispered.

‘Yes. Because she is small and can only take two slices.' Jessica curled her lip and scrunched her nose as though he were stupid. ‘Anyway, naming our things isn't crazy, it's normal. You need to give me a better example.'

Matthew rubbed at the one-day stubble on his chin and tried to think of an answer. ‘Okay, well you still make me check under the bed and in the wardrobe every night for monsters and vampires.'

‘It's not vampires, it's werewolves,' she corrected him. ‘Vampires wouldn't really bother me, not after watching the
Twilight
series. I can see they have some endearing qualities.'

‘Fine, but that's not really the point, Jess.'

‘What is, then?' she asked, looking into the face of her husband.

‘Well, none of them exist!' He chuckled. ‘Talk about having to state the bloody obvious.'

Jessica stared at her husband wide-eyed. She paused before saying, ‘The thing is, Matthew, I think they do and I'm scared of them, but you are categorically certain that they do not exist and yet it's
you
who looks for them every night in the cupboard and under the bed, so doesn't that make you madder than me?'

‘I'd never thought of it like that.'

‘So why do you look for them? Why don't you just tell me there is no such thing?'

Matthew put his hands on her waist and pulled her towards him. ‘Because, Jessica Rose, I would go to the ends of the earth to make you happy. I would do anything to bring you a moment of joy and a worry-free sleep.'

Jessica laid her head against his chest. ‘I don't think anyone else in the whole wide world has ever loved anyone the way I love you and you love me.'

‘I think you are right,' Matthew concurred. ‘I love you completely.'

‘Even though I talk to the supper?' she asked.

‘Because you talk to the supper.' He kissed the back of her neck. ‘The place looks great, by the way.'

She felt her heart swell at the compliment.

The doorbell rang.

Jessica wriggled free and ran down the hallway. Polly and Jake stood side by side, having shared a cab from Clapham, where they lived three streets apart. Both clutched bottles of wine.

‘Polly! Happy Not-Christmas!' Jessica shouted her happiness as though it had been months not days since she had last seen her best friend.

‘And to you, honey. Now let us in. It's bloody freezing out here!' Polly shivered.

Jessica stood aside and swept her arm towards the kitchen. ‘Matthew was just telling me how mad I am.'

‘Well you are, but he knew that before you got married, so he can't renege now,' Polly replied, gazing at Matthew through narrowed eyes as she hugged her mate.

‘I wasn't thinking of reneging, Polly.' Matthew sometimes found it hard to tolerate the outspoken Polly.

‘If it is all going tits up, mate, then my flatmate is moving out end of the month so you can come and bunk with me. We can reinstate Thursday-night curry and karaoke, back of the net! Boys'd love it, just like old times!' Jake stood behind the hugging girls, nodding sagely at his friend.

‘What is it with you two? My wife and I are deeply in love and happily married and we will remain so!' He tutted.

‘Well said, my gorgeous man.' Jessica turned and jumped onto her husband's back, hitching a piggyback all the way to the kitchen.

‘Blimey, Jess!' Polly cast her eye around the place. ‘Cooking supper and a tidy house – you're turning into your mum!'

‘I like making the place look nice.' Jessica pouted.

‘You can come and give mine a whizz over if you feel like it,' Jake suggested.

‘That's very kind of you, Jake, but I think I'll pass.'

The skeletal remains of the salmon sat on a large oval plate in the centre of the table. No one mentioned the rather blackened outside or the fact that it had been glued to the base of the dish. The buttered spuds had been polished off and all that remained of supper were a few sprigs of long-stemmed broccoli and the licks of tiramisu stuck to the side of the glass bowl that the spoon hadn't managed to reach.

‘I'd like to propose a toast,' Matthew announced. ‘To my wonderful wife, thank you for cooking that incredible supper.'

‘Hear! Hear!' Jake bashed the table.

‘And may the coming year bring us lots of wonderful things!' Matthew lifted his glass and sipped.

‘Oh God, this isn't a clue that we are awaiting the pitter-patter of tiny Louboutins is it?' Polly shouted.

‘No.' Jessica waved her hand as she sipped her wine. ‘Definitely not. We're still getting used to being married.'

‘And having too much fun,' Matthew added.

‘Yes,' Jessica agreed. ‘We have a five-year plan. I shall get pregnant when I am twenty-eight. Matt will have been promoted and I will be earning proper, good money for my illustrations and then we shall have two beautiful babies to make our lives complete. A boy and a girl.'

‘Blimey, sounds like you have it all planned out,' Jake scoffed.

‘We do.' Jessica nodded.

‘God, I love my wife!' Matthew beamed. Polly mimed retching. ‘I appreciate her every day, especially when I look at my neighbour, to whom I'd also like to propose a toast.' He raised his glass. ‘To Mrs Pleasant, next door!'

‘May she learn how to smile!' Jessica added.

‘Yes, Mrs Pleasant! Learn to smile!' Jake shouted very loudly at the kitchen wall.

‘Shhhh!' The three looked at him and Polly placed her cupped hand over his mouth. All were laughing and cringing, hoping she hadn't heard.

Jessica coughed. ‘And a toast to me! I handed in my first illustrations today. They are awaiting approval, but the point is, I finished them!'

‘Yay!' they all chorused. ‘Congratulations!'

The four, now well lubricated by the four bottles of wine they'd drunk during dinner, slumped in their chairs and hacked at a lump of Dolcelatte that they popped onto salty crackers and washed down with glugs of ruby red port.

‘I've eaten too much,' Polly wailed as she reached for the cheese knife and cut a fresh lump.

The other three laughed.

‘Then why are you reaching for more cheese?' Jake crossed his eyes at Matthew to show he still thought Polly was an idiot as per his first snap decision on her character and despite many meetings since.

‘Because I figure, as I've already broken my diet, I may as well
really
break it – you know, in for a penny and… however that partic… particleear phrase finishes. Plus I'm thinking of getting lipo and I want my money's worth.'

‘You don't need lipo, Poll, you are beautiful.' Jessica smiled at her friend. She knew that, despite her bravado, Polly harboured insecurities about her appearance and her future.

‘Oh my God! Talking of beautiful…' Polly slapped her forehead. ‘I nearly forgot! The most amazing piece of gossip. You know my cousin, Callum?'

‘Geologist, tall, bit superior, red hair?' Jessica asked.

‘The very one. Well, he has just told the family that he is no longer going to be Callum and as of now is living as a girl called Collette! My aunt and uncle are under sedation. Can you believe it?'

‘No! I can't!' Jessica squealed.

‘Has he got boobies and things?' Matthew was curious.

Polly shrugged. ‘Apparently!'

‘Good on him, that's not easy,' Jessica said. ‘It's a very brave thing.'

‘It's a very weird thing,' Jake replied. ‘Urgh, makes my flesh creep!'

‘When did you become so enlightened, Jake?' Matthew asked his clueless friend.

Jake flicked the Vs in response.

‘Anyway…' Polly once again steered the conversation. ‘Going back to my weight, it's easy for you to give advice, Jess. You have nothing but plain sailing ahead.'

‘What d'you mean? Why's it easy for me?'

‘Well, you've already landed Mr Perfect – not perfect for me, but perfect for you,' she clarified as she pointed her finger and narrowed her eyes at Matthew.

‘The feeling is entirely mutual!' Matthew raised his glass at his wife's best friend.

Polly continued. ‘You have the lovely house, the gooey marriage and in five years, apparently, there'll be the pitter-patter of tiny trolls on your stairs…'

Jessica smiled. Polly was, unlike her, not fond of babies. Or, more specifically, not fond of the prospect of looking after them.

‘But some of us are still in the race, trying to make it to the finish line.' Polly sighed and crunched on another cheese-laden cracker.

‘We're not gooey. Are we?' Jessica looked at their guests.

‘No, you're just sickeningly happy. And seeing someone that happy with their lot in life can be seriously irritating!' Polly delivered this with a straight face and was rewarded with a high five from Jake.

‘We really must do this again soon: please come over to our house, eat our food, drink our wine and insult us. How are you fixed for next week?' Matthew shouted.

‘Don't be grumpy.' Polly wagged her finger at Matthew. ‘And don't worry, you know we'll be here again next week.'

‘Well thank goodness for that!' Matthew gave a sarcastic clap.

Jessica stood and pointed towards the sitting room. ‘I think it's charades time!'

The other three got up noisily from the table, wobbling as the effects of the booze travelled to their unsteady feet. They shoved the chairs under the messy table and elbowed each other out of the way: no one wanted the end seat on the sofa and the last one in was the first to start, that was the rule. Jessica laughed as her husband and friends fought for space, running into the sitting room and jumping onto the sofa, hugging cushions to their chests and squawking with laughter. They might be a gooey couple with a lovely grown-up house, but they still knew how to have fun.

4th February, 2013

They finally took down the bare tree today. It was long overdue. The sight of the spindly arms and dried needles was quite sad, the last thing we need to look at is more decay. My first Christmas in here was horrible. I felt like I was carrying a boulder in my stomach that grew heavier and heavier until I could barely move. I ached to be home – home, wherever that was. The thin strips of tinsel in the recreation room, the plastic baubles hung from light fittings and the paper plates of biscuits with fingerprints smudged into the melting chocolate had the opposite effect to what was intended. They just highlighted the fact that we were trapped; the forced cheeriness jarred with the depressing, clinical environment. Mostly I try and pretend I am somewhere else, anywhere, fooling myself into calmly passing another day. But with the Christmas decorations everywhere I found it harder to pretend. They reminded me of what I was missing. What I had lost.