Tonight was the third meeting since the encounter in the shop. Effie was preparing to go out, perched on the edge of the bath easing on a pair of new tights that really were tight like everything else since that evening. She was wearing a skirt one size down from her normal one. `Well, you made a hit in the shop, didn’t you?’ Susie had asserted in a tone of voice that brooked no dissent. Her feet were squeezed into high heels despite a warning spasm of pain from the bunion on her left foot. Not too much walking tonight she reckoned. Kenneth was picking her up and the rendezvous was a Japanese restaurant further into town. Twice they had been to local restaurants, both excellent, and Effie had gained an impression of a man with an easy manner that instilled confidence, clearly successful in his business, extremely fond of his girls and with a variety of cultural interests one of which was food from different countries, hence the Japanese restaurant tonight. Effie, in turn, had let him know she was divorced without going into any details about just how painful it had been. She had spoken about the children, her work and her own interests in art, theatre and cooking. ‘A woman after my own heart’ had been his reaction and music to Effie’s ears.
Her thoughts lingered over her developing picture of Kenneth as she added the final touches to her makeup. She stared closely at her own gray eyes in the mirror. Hadn’t they once been bluer? A spot of colour to the eyelids, brown mascara to the lashes which were annoyingly not as long as they used to be. Kenneth’s eyes were delightfully warm and brown under his shaggy dark brows, brows that were still dark despite his gray hair. She could picture them now and found herself smiling until she realised that the eyes in her head were no longer brown but blue, a lovely soft blue.
There was a honk from outside. Effie thrust the image out of her head and her arms into her navy blue jacket. A smart new shiny black mini was drawn up outside the house, not quite what she had imagined, but there was Kenneth grinning at her cheerfully as he exited the driver’s seat.
‘Right, madam, your carriage awaits’ he smiled as Effie with a girlish giggle allowed herself to be ushered into the front seat.
‘Well thank you kind sir.’
They sped off at a pace that also surprised Effie whose last experience of a mini had been a model of twenty years ago and even then it had not been new. This was a different thing altogether and she decided she liked the fact that Kenneth did not have a big flashy car like Quentin, even if he could afford it. Not being ostentatious was a definite plus. She recognised radio 4 as she clicked herself into her seatbelt but Kenneth was quick to change it to classical music.
‘Are you Ok on this?’ he inquired,’ my wife was fond of the classics. Not particularly my thing. More of a jazz man really, but I tolerate Beethoven, some Bach. Really prefer Brubeck. All the ‘Bs’’ he laughed, with Effie chiming in a second or two later as she grasped what he meant.
‘Well, I guess I’m a bit of a ‘B’ person too: just love the Beatles. Bees too as a matter of fact. They were comparatively novel when I was young – the Beatles I mean.’
‘Really?’
`Yes, I mean they weren’t new but still very much around. I just liked them’ she added, wondering if she had made herself sound too old. What age did he think she was? But Kenneth had moved on to another topic and was telling her about the restaurant, his love of Japanese food and a visit to that country some years before. He seemed in good spirits as they drew up at ‘The Mount Fuji’ which they entered through a bamboo gate hung with pretty lanterns to be greeted effusively in Japanese by the restaurateur with Kenneth responding in what sounded equally Japanese to Effie. She was impressed: so at ease with the world, polite and attentive. She experienced quite a thrill as they were taken to their table, to be in the company of this urbane, nice –looking man. He was definitely quite handsome tonight dressed in dark trousers and a smart casual jacket, his thick gray hair brushed back emphasising the dark eyebrows and the etched wrinkles on his face. It all added up to an image of a mature man, confident of his place in the world, at home equally behind the wheel of a Landrover or a mini, in a smart London restaurant or the local pub. Or such was Effie’s impression.
She left the ordering to him accepting that he understood the menu better than she did and they were soon sipping warm saki and nibbling delicious morsels of exquisitely cut vegetables and raw fish - ‘starters’ - according to Kenneth, to be followed by a steady flow of delicate portions of meat, fish, and rice which continued at a gentle pace through the evening.
‘So what took you to Japan? You seem to know a lot about it.’
‘Japan? Yes, I’ve been there a few times. Business. It’s a very advanced economy. Sophisticated engineering and such-like, sort of our area. But I took to the country It’s so clean and well-organised and everyone’s so polite. Never overstated. At least since the war’. He laughed. `And I love these customs like the greeting from Yuko when we came in. I’ve picked up a smattering of words for greetings. I assure you that’s all.’
‘Well, it sounds very impressive to me. So where else has business taken you?
‘Oh, most of Europe, the Middle East, Central America, bits of Africa.’
‘Goodness, quite a list. Unfortunately my work keeps me on the whole stuck here in the home counties. Such a shame because I’d love to travel more. Jack wasn’t much of a traveller. Our holidays when the kids were young were limited to England or Scotland. He liked fishing which bored me to tears, whereas I like walking which he didn’t.’
Warming to the theme of her husband’s incompatibility, Effie continued. ‘When the children became more civilised and less of a nightmare to travel with we did venture across the channel a couple of times and once as far as Spain but he was always complaining about things: the food was no good and made you sick or the beer was too pricey or the signposting confusing. When I think about it now,’ she said reflectively,’ it just wasn’t much fun’.
‘Oh dear,’ Kenneth laughed, ‘it sounds as though you’re a frustrated Dr Livingston. Maybe we need to give that side of things some thought.’
‘Oh, I’m game’ was Effie’s impulsive response, and then, to lessen the impression of undue haste and a lack of moderation, she ventured to bring up the subject of his wife: ‘so tell me about the girls’ mother? Jenny, isn’t it?.’
Kenneth sat back in his chair and looked away towards the window:
‘Yes, Jenny. Not a bad marriage. We had our ups and downs. A good mother. She loved children and always regretted we only had the two girls. Quite enough for me,’ he smiled looking back at Effie. ‘She worked in a local nursery for years and was thinking of setting up her own little school when she got sick. ‘Afraid it dragged on for a couple of years, quite tough on the girls even although they were quite grown up. But that was nearly four years ago and they’re young. The young recover more quickly, don’t they? Both have boyfriends now and I think the older one, Sara - you met Julie didn’t you? - she’s probably with the guy she’s going to marry. They seem quite committed to each other. Still difficult though, I mean, not having their mother around. I’m sure I spoil them rotten, which Jenny never did.’
He shrugged. ` So what about you? How do you manage, or are you through with all that sort of thing now?’
It was an interesting question for Effie to consider: the idea of being ‘through’ with one’s children. She understood what he meant, the hopeful idea, that once his daughters were safely married he’d not have to worry about them any more. She had believed that once upon a time, that marriage was the answer to all problems. Not that she didn’t want all three of her children to eventually get married. She knew she used to think the umbilical cord would be cut once they left school, or university? Surely it wouldn’t still be attached when they got married? The evidence from her one married child was that the ties were obstinately rooted. And then, her own marriage had ended in disaster.
Effie paused, chopsticks in hand, as she contemplated the couple next to them who were gazing into each other’s eyes. Had she and Jack once been like that? She supposed they had although she could barely remember the good times, so powerful had been her reaction to his betrayal. There was a moment of sadness at the thought of the couple next to her and their inevitable descent into the pitfalls of human existence, like everyone else. As she watched them watching each other she noticed that the girl’s sleeve was dipping in one of the dishes of sauce. A dark stain spread up the pale silky material.
Kenneth was looking at her, chopsticks also poised. ‘So what are you saying? Don’t have children, or don’t get married?’
‘Oh no, I love my children to bits, but I find I’m having to review my ideas all the time, that cord turns out to have roots like a vine that sink deep into the earth and twist around in one’s emotional life. So here I am now into the next generation of worries.’
‘I hadn’t thought about grandchildren’ said Kenneth looking quite downcast.
‘Oh, it’s mainly sheer pleasure, believe me. I adore my grandchildren. A huge responsibility but they make me laugh. It saved my life that Daisy appeared soon after Jack did his disappearing act. I guess it was quite tough for my kids too at that time. Not that it’s like a death’ she hastened to add, ‘at least I imagine it’s different. But, anyway, having a baby arrive when she did was wonderful. And now they’re proper little people and we have lots of laughs. They’re into jokes now, even Rosie the little one and Daisy’s are sometimes mildly shocking. I mean what they seem to know about these days.’
‘Oh I think you can’t leave it like that. Can’t you give me some idea what lies ahead?’
‘Oh goodness, it’s mainly scatological humour I’d say. Daisy’s lot seem to think anything about down there - Effie indicated her lower regions - is hilariously funny. Rosie’s jokes are much sweeter, sort of the ‘what do you call stuff, like, what do you call a deer with no eyes?’
‘So what do you call a deer with no eyes?’ Kenneth was playing the game.
‘No idea.’
He chuckled: ‘I like that. Rather quirky. So perhaps you’ll tell me some of Daisy’s contributions another time. You’ve certainly opened my eyes to the possibility of joys ahead.’
The two of them clinked glasses and they sipped another jug of warm rice wine and generally mellowed into the soft atmosphere of the place allowing Effie to ponder the implications of his last remark so that she was not at all surprised when he put his hand on hers and told her that he was getting to like her a great deal and hoped that she too was happy they had met. Which she was. The bill arrived just as Effie stood up to visit the ladies’ room so that she had no chance to see what the evening had cost. Kenneth, anyway, quickly picked it up, holding it in his hand without looking and Effie felt he was waiting for her to go. So be it, and curiosity would remain unsatisfied.
They took a taxi back to Effie’s house. So far the meetings had taken place outside the house and Kenneth had picked her up twice now, so that he knew where she lived. Effie also knew that he lived in a rather nice street two or three miles away but had not yet been invited to see it. She was thinking about this as the taxi approached her address, beginning to feel she knew this man and yet had never set foot in his house. These cosy evenings in a good restaurant encouraged a sense of intimacy which was far from the whole story. As Effie struggled to push her feet back into the high-heeled shoes she had taken off with relief in the taxi she wondered how he would react if he saw her on an average work day sporting worn out flat shoes, clothes a size larger and no makeup. On the other hand, she was blessed with good skin which barely yet showed serious signs of aging. More immediately was the question forming in her mind of whether or not she should invite Kenneth in. Would it be too forward? Would it be seen as an invitation to stay the night? Her mind was rushing along.
The decision was effectively taken out of her hands when they stopped outside her house and Kenneth again took her hand and pressed it affectionately.
‘You know I’d love to have a look at your house but I think better not tonight. I’ve got to go off on a trip tomorrow and need to get up early. But I’m back Thursday, so let’s do something on Friday, can we? Why don’t we meet at my house. Time you had a look at the family mansion’ he said with a laugh, and proceeded to lean over and give Effie a kiss on the cheek causing her instinctively to shut her eyes.
‘Yes, lovely. That’d be lovely. Next Friday then.’ And as an after thought as she eased herself out of the cab. ‘And are you on the end of a phone during the week? It’d be good to have a chat.’
`You can try but I’m in far distant lands and it might be tricky, time changes and reception, you know.’
He flashed her a smile and the taxi was off leaving Effie both excited, there was no doubt that she was thrilled at the idea of going to his house, but also bothered by the feeling that it was frustratingly hard work to get to know this man and there were more questions than answers. She embarked on her bedtime rituals as she mulled this over: brush teeth for two minutes, wash tights, open the window three inches for air, check the computer is off. Basically, though, she was in good spirits as she eventually laid her head down on the pillow. Tomorrow she could look forward to seeing the grandchildren. She was baby sitting for Cathy, and on Sunday she had a coffee and catch up with Susie in their favourite cafe. Meanwhile she set about soothing herself into sleep by going over in her mind the number and variety of dishes she had consumed during the course of the evening.
...
‘“And so the sad old donkey nobody wanted, who had helped the old lady across the river and kicked away the wild wolf that tried to eat her up without thought for himself, was so admired by King Marvel for his bravery that he was turned into a handsome prince. When the King’s daughter, the lovely Princess Peony, saw the prince she instantly fell in love with him and the two were married amidst much jubilation, defeating the plans of evil uncle Mortico who wanted to marry the princess himself.”’
‘What’s evil?’ piped up Rosie from her snuggled up position under her pink duvet.
‘Evil? Oh, it’s when you’re really bad, very bad’, replied Effie.
‘You mean, like when Pedro weed in the playground and the teachers were cross.’
‘Yes, well, that’s not really evil, more sort of naughty. I wouldn’t necessarily say Pedro’s a bad boy for that.’
‘I think the baddest thing I know is when Daddy shouts at Mummy. I think that must be evil’ said Daisy from her bed which was covered with a duvet strewn with ballet dancers.
‘Yes, well, I don’t really know, Daisy, it depends...’
‘What does it depend on?’
‘It depends on if there’s a good reason to shout. I mean we all get angry about things sometimes, don’t we?’
‘I didn’t like it when teacher Pat was cross with me.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t, darling, but why was she cross? What had you done?’
‘It was Celia’s fault. She took my pencil sharpener and I prodded her with my pencil ‘cos she wouldn’t give it back.’ Daisy was defiant.
‘I hope you didn’t hurt her, Daisy? Pencils can be sharp.’
‘Well it wasn’t sharp ‘cos she wouldn’t let me sharpen it!’
‘Oh, you’ve got a point there, Daisy,’ and the two of them laughed. Rosie, who had missed the joke, piped up from her pink corner in a plaintive voice, ‘I don’t think it’s funny when people shout and I don’t like it when Mummy and Daddy shout. It scares me.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, you mustn’t worry about that. It doesn’t mean anything.’ Effie tried to sound reassuring and was thinking that distraction was now the best policy. ‘Look, I’ll read you one more story’.
She flicked through the book. Choose something soothing. No monsters or witches. Hansel and Gretel? Far too scary for Rosie who could be anxious anyway when her parents were out at night. Jack and the Beanstalk? No, there was a scary giant who could eat you up and she herself thought Jack was a far from admirable character, getting up there and pinching things. And the name, Jack, was a sore point, and she had a sneaking sympathy with the giant. Little Red riding Hood? Absolutely not. The terrifying idea of a grandmother who is really a wolf in disguise. Oh dear.
She finally settled for The sleeping Beauty which the children knew well but it was about sleep and sleepiness and the story worked out all right in the end and so that was her choice. By the time she got to the bit where the daring young knight had hacked his way through the undergrowth of a hundred years and was moving in amazement from room to room of sleeping courtiers, Rosie’s eyes were closed. Effie leaned over to check, pausing the story.
‘Don’t stop, Gran’ma, just when he’s going to wake everyone up’.
‘Sorry, Daisy. I thought you were asleep too.’
‘No, I’m wide awake an’ I can’t go to sleep till I hear the end. That’s the whole point.’
‘Fair enough, “So the knight at last came to the small windy staircase that led up to the top of the turret where he found the princess lying there on soft cushions all covered in dust and spiders’ webs. Through the webs he could see how beautiful she was and could not resist bending down to kiss her on her pale brow. His lips brushed away the cobwebs as he did so and as they touched her skin there was an immediate stirring. The princess was not dead. No, she woke up and so did all the people in the castle. And, of course, she fell instantly in love with the handsome young knight who had rescued her. They were soon married amidst great rejoicing and lived happily ever after.”’
‘I don’t think I believe in happy ever after’ said Daisy sleepily as she turned towards the wall, her eyes closing. Which left Effie feeling sad as she kissed the back of her granddaughter’s head.