LIVER

“The cruelest lies are often told in silence.”

R. L. Stevenson

Mary fretted.

When would be the best moment for the gift?

She didn’t look fifty-five. Her face retained the fresh Irish expectantly. After thirty-five years of marriage she expected precious little. Up close her face showed the lines of disappointment. Not many got close, not anymore.

She’d retained most of her figure, not through vanity but disillusionment. A steady diet. Dark rinsed hair highlit blue eyes. A mouth built to smile … didn’t, at least not often.

Charles was ten years older. Wiser, too, to hear him tell it. Tall, he used his height as a weapon, of sneak intimidation. Completely bald, he polished the pate with gusto. “VIRILITY” and he spelt it.

Wide grey eyes lulled you to interpretations of kindness. Till he spoke. A voice fuelled on contempt wiped the impression. Their thirty-fifth anniversary. He’d chosen the restaurant for its hauteur. Belittlement was the main course and ensured its success.

Dressed in dark blue pin-stripe, Charles surveyed the room with glee.

“Class,” he said, “No yobbos.”

Mary didn’t answer. He was accustomed to an audience, not a participant.

“Snob-appeal,” she thought.

His tie established his status as a Tory outrider.

A waiter appeared, greeting-less.

Charles commanded,

– No starters.

– Chicken Maryland for me.

– the fish for my wife.

– side order of

sauté mushrooms

jacket potatoes

celery sticks

broccoli and carrots.

“The chicken is fresh?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. A carafe of the house plonk … and mineral water for my wife. MALVERN … none of that French rubbish.

“Your face is unfamiliar to me.”

“I’m new, sir.”

“Well, chop chop, the food won’t arrive of its own volition.”

The waiter withdrew.

Mary was mortified, not a new experience but always raw. She longed to say something. Instead, she took the package from her bag and shyly placed it before him. Her heart was pounding. It was beautifully wrapped in black and gold paper. A tiny ribbon enhanced its appeal.

“What’s this?”

“A little surprise for the occasion.”

He frowned, and said, “I hope you haven’t been playing silly buggers … wasting money again.”

She flushed, and said, “Go on dear, open it now.”

Sighing, he crudely tore it open. A thin gold watch fell on the table.

“I have a watch,” he said.

Something rattled near her heart.

“But Charles, this is special, it’s a dress watch … and … I had it inscribed.”

He looked at the back. It read “TI AMOR.”

“Spanish is it … of some significance I suppose?”

“Italian, dear … it’s Italian … it says … well am … that I care about you.”

“Stuff and nonsense … here put the damned thing away before the new chappie brings the grub. I declare, where you pick up those silly notions. AND, marked like that, it lowers the pre-sale value.”

“It’s not marked, it’s inscribed.”

“Same thing,” he said, and pushed it at her.

She lifted it gently and let it rest a moment in her lap. Then she let it slip to the floor, using her right heel, she began to grind down.

The food arrived.

Charles set to … and drank noisily. He’d eaten half when he set down his fork and loudly summoned the waiter.

“Yes sir, is everything to your satisfaction … and madam?”

“New … you said.”

“Y … es … sir.”

“What does this look like to you … go on … have a good look.”

“Chicken, sire … Chicken Maryland.”

Mary’s stomach churned.

“Well, pigs might fly, not only does it look like CHICKEN, it damned well tastes like it.”

“I’m not sure I understand the problem sir.”

“Remarkable … he doesn’t understand, from one of the Grammar schools I shouldn’t wonder. I ordered liver.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“LIVER … are you dense as well as deaf … what did I order dear?”

Mary couldn’t answer.

“Cat got your tongue, woman?… TELL him what I ordered.”

“I’m not sure, Charles … I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You weren’t WHAT!” and he banged the table.

Mary reached over quickly and grabbed the remains of the chicken. With a small yelp, she flung it out across the restaurant. All eyes turned.

“See …,” she said, “… mebbe it’s bacon … or some breed of bird. But liver, no, I don’t think so darling … You’re right as usual.”