‘Here we are’. Effie swung her legs out of the taxi, balancing on the one hand a creamy chocolate cake on a fancy gold platter, and on the other, her weight on the high heels that she was already regretting wearing. So much for vanity. Oliver gallantly gave her his arm as they walked towards Cathy’s front door on which hung a Christmassy wreath, which was always a bit funereal for Effie, but this one was livened up by some red balloons and streamers beside which was pinned a sign covered in drawings of ballet dancers strewn around a bold -‘WELCUM ‘-.
The door was opened by a grinning young man in jeans who introduced himself as ‘Justin - and you’re just in time for the party’ he laughed gaily.
‘Hi – Effie – sorry. Must deposit this cake and platter.’ She made a bee line for the table, pushing through a group of revellers who already seemed to be well-oiled, leaving Oliver apparently sharing a joke with Justin – ‘sounds like a pub’ she heard him chortle, ‘come and sample our cider at the Cake and Platter!’
Effie, relieved of her chocolaty burden, scanned the room, looking for Cathy.
‘Effie! How nice to see you!’.
‘Oh hello, Sheila. Where’s Cathy?’
‘No idea. So what’s this I hear: a boyfriend, eh?’
‘Well, I suppose so. Yes, come and say hello.’
Oliver, however, had already melded into the party and Effie was waylaid by the girls who had clearly been allowed to stay up late for New Year. Daisy was wearing a pink tutu and her hair was up in a bun tied around with glittery ribbons. Rosie was dressed in a tiger outfit and was enjoying jumping around and roaring. The girls gathered around their grandmother excitedly.
‘Grandma, I got this tutu from granny Faye, and look at my nails!’ She flashed her hands out displaying a set of tiny fingernails sparkling with silver glitter.
‘My goodness, darling, did granny Faye really give you that?’
‘Yes, yes..’ trilled Daisy as she pirouetted round, unabashed, ‘and I’ve got stuff for my eyes and shiny lipstick too, and perfume so I smell like a flower and mummy said you were bringing your boyfriend tonight. Is he the man we saw at your house that time?’
‘Yes, I think you did see him that time a while ago. So come and say hello properly.’
But Oliver was still not in view, the noise level was rising and the girls were quickly distracted so that Effie did the obvious thing which was to head for the kitchen where the breakfast bar was piled with bottles and a pretty girl was busy filling glasses.
‘White or red, Mrs McIver?’ she grinned.
‘Oh, Jasmine? I didn’t recognise you in that black outfit. Very fetching. Are you acting barmaid tonight?’
‘Barmaid/cum/baby sitter I think. Keeping an eye on those two for Cathy’ she said as she filled a large glass of white for Effie.
‘Well, it’s very noble of you on New Year’s Eve’.
‘Oh I’m saving up, want to get myself a...’ but Effie never did hear what it was she wanted as someone tapped her on the shoulder and greeted her with a loud ‘hello, you must be Cathy’s mum’ and Effie turned to face a thin young woman with droopy hair who pressed in on her so that she was forced to retreat. ‘She’s told me so much about you.’
‘She has?’ Effie took a large gulp of her Chardonnay.
‘I quite envy her having such a nice mum so near by. I mean nothing like your own mum, is there? My mum’s miles away up north, not that she wouldn’t help us a lot if she was closer, but that’s how it is, and I often tell Cathy how lucky she is.’
‘I suppose she is’ was all Effie could think of saying, wishing that this young woman would move off and find some other mother figure to attach herself to. Did Cathy really say nice things about her to her friends? So why did she still feel guilty? Damn it, this was supposed to be a party. Where on earth was Oliver? And where were the children? Half the point was to introduce them to him.
Cheryl – such was her name - was still wittering on about herself and Cathy as though they were best buddies which Effie thought was unlikely, only having a vague recollection of ever having heard her name mentioned, when a welcome ‘hi,Mum’ finally interrupted the flow.
‘Leo! How lovely you’re here. How are you? Happy new year.’
They hugged affectionately and then Leo ushered forward an attractive young woman who had smooth dark skin, long glossy black hair and a slim figure.
‘This is Anita.’
She smiled and Effie instinctively leant forward to kiss her on the cheek. She really was pleased to meet her after what seemed to have been a long period of what her son described as ‘treading water’ as far as girl friends were concerned, and Effie in depressed mood called ‘what’s wrong with him?’ or in more up-beat mood ‘what is he waiting for?’. The answer, she realised now, was Anita, who came across as charming and intelligent and showed every sign of having the huge plus of being very taken with her boy.
So far so good. Effie ticked off her son on her mental list of anxieties she wanted to sort out in the new year, Leo coming number three after Cathy and Jane. She just needed to see what Jane was up to with her Alastair and, of course, she was desperately hoping that they would all take to Oliver.
‘There you are.’ And there he was, brandishing a bottle, topping up glasses around him, which was Effie’s chance to introduce him to Leo and Anita when Daisy came pushing in with her auntie Jane in tow.
‘Auntie Jane wants to meet your boyfriend, gran’ma’ she pronounced. Rosie, following suit, came leaping in to the huddle of grown ups, still in tiger mode, knocking Effie’s glass so that chardonnay spilled all down her front. The sodden silky top clung to her body as though she were a girl in a wet T-shirt competition, which caused Oliver to whip out a red handkerchief and start blotting her chest. There was a shuffling backwards and some mopping up as Cathy appeared, audibly tutting at her mother: ‘honestly, Mum, you do like to make an entrance.’
‘I think in this case the culprit was Tigger here’ said Jane bending to give her niece a hug.
‘But I just want to meet gran’ma’s boyfriend like Daisy’ Rosie squeaked in response, still bouncing like a rubber ball.
‘Well, Rosie, if you stay still for a minute – here - I’m fine now thank you, Oliver.’ Effie brushed aside the red handkerchief with which Oliver persisted in dabbing her blouse which still clung damply to her chest and now displayed a reddish mark where the colour had run from the handkerchief, much to Oliver’s chagrin. ‘Oh dear, I am sorry Effie. If you let me have it I’m sure I can get the stain out.’
By now all three of Effie’s children, partners, grandchildren and a few others were standing round her and Oliver expectantly.
‘Goodness me, all of you at the same time and, thanks, no Oliver,I won’t take my top off right now, it’ll have to wait, because’ - she took a deep breath - ‘Leo, Jane, Cathy - this is Oliver.’
Leo nodded and said ‘hi, I hear you support Arsenal’.
‘Oh yes. Since I was a boy’ which Effie realised, of course, was a bond.
Jane, forthright as ever, said ‘so you’re the man who’s leading my mother astray?’ to which Oliver replied ‘Oh I hope so’ and the two laughed, which Effie reckoned meant things were OK there.
And that left Cathy, who said with a sort of a smile ‘I think you’re a hit with my children. They want to know if you’re their new grandpa’ to which Oliver graciously replied that he would be honoured to be considered for the role, which caused Effie to forgive him immediately for any irritation she had been suffering on account of his handling of the spilt wine. At that moment a blast of music burst from somewhere temporarily drowning out conversation, causing Cathy to shoot off in the direction of the blast followed by the girls who clearly wanted to be at the centre of whatever was going on. A moment later they were back making a bee line for Oliver, urging him to come and look at their acrobatics. He willingly allowed himself to be pulled along to watch as the girls showed off their gymnastic talents, bending down to be at their level, clapping enthusiastically and soon playing quite the clown.
‘He’s certainly a hit their, Mum’ said Jane ‘obviously a nice guy.’
‘Yup’ came from Leo.’ Go for it, Mum.’
The stamp of approval, and she felt a warm sense of relief. She had been quite nervous about the party: the scrutiny, her sensitivity, the dregs of guilt and her knowledge that she didn’t have a rhino hide of a skin to protect herself. She watched Oliver as he clowned around and was touched that he should make all this effort for her grandchildren. She liked a man who didn’t mind making a bit of an idiot of himself. He was clever enough to be able to do it without really making himself one, and a flash image came to mind of Jack looking bored on holiday playing cricket with Leo on a beach but so busy telling the boy what not to do that neither of them were enjoying it.
Squeals of laughter were coming from the girls who were unashamedly exploiting Oliver’s good nature to the point where Effie felt it was enough and in danger of becoming too much both for him and also for Cathy who Effie suspected would intervene at any moment, telling him not to over-excite the children. In fact, Cathy was chatting quite cheerfully to her sister, only occasionally glimpsing at the noisy clowning. And Leo was coming to his rescue, giving the girls plates of crisps and helping Oliver up from the floor where he seemed to have got himself stuck in an awkward position. Effie could hear him say something about not being as young as he used to be and then lost sight of him as he followed Leo in the direction of the food table, which gave Effie a chance to have a brief conversation with Alastair, who was busy filling empty glasses.
‘Did Jane tell you we’re thinking of getting a flat together?’
‘Together?’ It was barely a couple of months ago that Jane had protested the absolute necessity of keeping separate dwellings in a relationship. ‘I’m delighted’ said Effie, which she was.’ Just hope you find something’, which she did. She really was pleased at the prospect of her most forthrightly independent child softening a little. Could she cross off number two? Alastair was swallowed up again by the crowd and the noise. The words of a song echoed round the room -
‘I love you, yes I do. yeh, yeh’
The room was getting hot and Effie moved towards the window which was open and occupied by a gaggle of smokers who were leaning out, blowing puffs of smoke into the dark frosty air. The Justin, who had opened the door earlier, pulled his torso back into the room and cheerfully offered Effie a cigarette which she accepted without hesitation. ‘Great party.’
Effie nodded and inhaled deeply before she breathed out a stream of smoke which blew in the direction of her two daughters who were still talking together. ‘Yes, it’s a good party but you know,’ she leant in Justin’s direction in a sudden burst of intimacy ‘I dread Cathy seeing me smoke. She’s bound to disapprove.’
‘What, Cathy?’ Justin closed his eyes as he too exhaled a stream of smoke. ‘na a - never seen her tick any one off an’ she knows my sister’s kids. They like her.’
‘Well, that’s nice of you to say that, Justin, but I shouldn’t be doing this, I know, in fact...’ Effie promptly stubbed out her cigarette and dropped the end out of the window ‘I ought not to indulge my weakness and, you know what, I think it’s time for some food, to absorb all that alcohol. Don’t you want something?’
‘Yea. Later. See ya.’
She really did feel hugely hungry and began to manoeuvre her way towards the buffet table, at the same time searching the room for Oliver and noticing again her two daughters, Jane, as always, looking tall, sleek and confident, Cathy, shorter and a bit more ruffled, definitely not as slim as her sister. In fact, Effie could not help noticing that she had put on a bit of weight and knew she would have to guard the urge to say something about it. Could she suggest a gym subscription as a new year present? The immediate issue was to address her own hunger without over doing it. The table was laden with delicious-looking food. An Indian theme, and it was so easy to ladle on the spoonfuls of prawn curry, lamb korma, crispy chapattis. Even easier to pile on the pounds complained a voice in her head. She was thankfully distracted by a young woman next to her who was busy shovelling savoury rice onto her plate with gay abandon.
‘Lovely spread, isn’t it? Do you think Cathy did this all herself?’
‘I think she did the prawns and rice, got a bit of help from the local tandoori place and some of us brought puddings.’
‘Well, it looks gorgeous’ she continued as she bit into a chapatti, revealing very white teeth. ‘Makes a change. God! Delicious.’
Effie took in her eating companion more carefully. There was something about her that was familiar, which wasn’t really surprising at her daughter’s party she supposed. But what was it?
‘.. and the wine’s great. Going to my head a bit, that’s why I gotta eat, but it’s so festive. She’s very good at it, isn’t she? All looks so good. I mean, when I think what I have to stare at at work, all those poor people, all those private parts’ she giggled. ‘Shouldn’t really say it but, honestly, it’s not always a pretty sight.. Such a pleasure to see something like this which is just lovely to look at.’
And then Effie knew exactly where she’d seen this woman as an image flashed across her mind of herself splayed out on a table with her ‘private parts’ being swabbed. The kindly nurse.
Her own moment of recognition must have coincided with her dinner companion who had stopped suddenly, her mouth poised open to bite into a chapatti..
Effie had two responses: one was a pang of anxiety about being recognised, and the other was to feel a defensive desire to assert that her privates were perfectly pretty. Her companion was clearly embarrassed too. Gossiping about patients? ‘I think’ continued Effie taking the initiative ‘we both know exactly where we met before and all I can say is that it’s New Years Eve and it calls for a drink.’ The two women clinked their glasses. ‘Good health’.
‘Let’s hope so.’
The music blared out at this point and Effie extracted herself, scanning the room again to track down Oliver, finally locating him on the far corner of the room talking to a woman who she also recognised, Cathy’s friend Margie. Was the room full of people who made her feel nervous? Another flash back to herself and Jim in his car that fateful evening and hearing Margie’s voice outside. No good. She’d have to find out what they were talking about. She picked up the nearest bottle and headed in their direction. Oliver greeted her with a warm smile. ‘Effie, there you are. I’ve been talking to Margie who obviously knows you and lives near you I gather. Old friend of Cathy?’
‘Oh yes, I’ve known Cathy since we had babies at about the same time. The girls still get on pretty well, with a few ups and downs. Our Hannah’s an only child and isn’t used to some of the rough and tumble stuff. But Cathy understands that, I think, tries not to let them all get too excited’ which was Effie’s cue for another flashback to the occasion when the introduction of her cake at Cathy’s house had triggered a rivalrous disturbance amongst the three children.
She really could not like this young woman but detected no veiled references to couples canoodling in cars on the street or unhealthy sexual goings on. The main issue for Margie was clearly some residual blaming of Effie for having upset her precious daughter, which was annoying for Effie, but mainly a relief. Oliver and Margie had obviously bonded over the subject of dogs, for which she had a soft spot. ‘I’ve loved dogs ever since my father showed me there was no need to be scared of them. Used to have me sit next to our Labrador at tea time. I hated washing so dad got the dog to lick my hands clean. Quite clever really.’
‘I suppose so’ said Effie doubtfully.
‘That reminds me, have you heard the joke about the dog...’
‘Oliver, let’s go and see if we can dig out Cathy. You’ve barely had a chance to speak to her.’
‘Oh – right ‘o.’
Oliver followed Effie, jogging his head from side to side with the music, as she headed for her daughter. She had never seen him so relaxed and cheerful, possibly fuelled by plenty of Chardonnay, but the rather floppy, distracted man she had first met was a thing of the past. He was soon getting on like a house on fire with Cathy on the subject of Daisy and Rosie who he assured her had talent and would benefit from in introduction to his daughter who ran a theatre group for children. ‘Great idea’ Cathy beamed. Then Leo appeared briefly making farewells as he and Anita were off to another party but he gave his mother a thumbs up as he left. Effie was then dragged away by the girls who were protesting noisily that they were not tired and did not intend to go to bed. Jim was attempting to grab them forcibly. It was Effie’s first real encounter of the evening with him.
‘Time for these two to make their exit’ he asserted as he wafted them off, still protesting that it wasn’t fair. ‘Give us a hand, Jasmine’ he called as he disappeared upstairs. ‘I’m letting Jim do that bit tonight’ said Cathy firmly, ‘my night off’ and she bent to rub her ankles. ‘Quite honestly I couldn’t face going up those stairs right now’, a comment which somehow triggered Effie to open her mouth and say the very thing she had told herself not to do which was to mention her weight: ‘well, darling, I was just wondering if you’d like me to take out a gym subscription for you. You know, nothing like a bit of exercise to get those extra pounds off’.
She saw Oliver open his eyes reprovingly, but Cathy, instead of reacting with a suitably caustic reply, turned to her mother with a half smile and said ‘Mum, I’m glad for once you noticed there’s been a bit of a weight gain. You may be interested to know, I’m pregnant.’
‘Pregnant?’
‘Yup’.
‘A baby?’
‘Yup.’
Effie could only exclaim and was near to tears.
‘Fantastic’ from Oliver.
‘And it’s a boy. We know that already.’
‘A boy. How marvellous.’
The music thumped out and they were soon all dancing including Effie and Oliver.. Let yourself go, follow the flow, Effie was singing to herself as they jogged around together, until someone said it was nearly midnight and the television was put on and the music off and there was a picture of Trafalgar Square full to bursting with happy revellers. The picture switched to Big Ben and the first sonorous chime rang out to a great cheer in the Square and a general shout in the room with everyone turning to kiss the person next to them. Which in Effie’s case was Jim. He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Happy new year, Effie’ he whispered ‘no bad feelings I hope. Think we’re OK. Cathy and me. This new one is good news. We’re both really happy about it.’
Before she could reply someone was grabbing her and pulling her into line for Auld lang syne which was soon competing with the sound of fireworks and the circle rapidly broke up with a rush to open the door or gather round the windows. Effie extracted herself to slip outside, welcoming the frosty night air and a moment to herself. Jim clearly wasn’t going to feel guilty himself or blame her, which was a relief, wasn’t it? She wanted to know how he had resolved things in his mind but knew she probably never would. And she would have to live with the fact that she knew something about her daughter’s marriage that Cathy did not.
A swathe of brilliant sparkling stars cascaded from the sky to bring Effie back from her reverie. She moved back towards the house, noting again the ballet dancers as she passed through the front door and smiled to herself as she pictured the same scene in a few years time with pictures of footballers to compete with the dancers. In the house, she scanned the room and laughed out loud as she spotted Oliver’s bald head shining in the Christmas lights like polished mahogany and made her way towards him.