When Monica arrived at work she felt self-conscious. Out of her protective uniform of smart suit and court shoes she felt vulnerable.
Nadia was new to the company. She had only worked on the main reception desk in the building for a month or so and seemed to know everyone already. She was particularly nosey. ‘Eeewwww, where are you going?’ she remarked, as Monica waited for the lift.
‘Nowhere,’ said Monica defensively. Nadia was around the same age as Monica but much taller and slimmer. She was always immaculately turned out with bright red lipstick and long talons to match. Monica wondered how she managed to do any typing, not that she’d ever seen her typing for that matter. ‘Just feeling a bit yuk,’ she replied.
‘I know what you mean,’ said Nadia. ‘A bit of lippy gives you a lift. You should do it more often, it suits you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Monica smiling. She felt better.
At twelve thirty she was in the toilets trying to touch up her makeup with the aid of a small handbag mirror perched on the side of the basin nearest the window. The mirror in the ladies was distorted somehow in that you had to move your head up and down to get the whole picture, plus the light was terrible. She wasn’t used to wearing much makeup either and her eyesight was not great. At the first attempt she only managed to apply the mascara to the lens of her reading glasses. By twelve forty five she’d given up and instead applied a little blusher and more lip gloss.
She was grateful for the fact that there was no full length mirror in the ladies toilets. She made a point of not looking at herself in full length mirrors at all, preferring to see herself in small sections. She liked the mirrors in shoe shops that only showed you how you looked from the knees down. The bathroom mirror at home was just above the basin so you could only see from the waist up. She could go days without seeing her bottom half reflected anywhere at all.
She began to wish that she had worn her work clothes. After all, when she had met Kevin she was wearing work clothes. It was almost as if the smart jackets and skirts were like armour and she could play the part of professional business woman.
She regretted choosing something casual. She didn’t suit casual. Besides, she didn’t want Kevin to think she had made an effort, although obviously she had.
She got to the coffee shop just gone one o’clock and went inside. Kevin was nowhere to be seen. She looked at her watch. He had definitely said one. It was only a couple of minutes past so no need to panic yet. She walked up to the counter as confidently as she could, ordered a skinny latte and sat on the armchair backing onto the wall near the window so she was facing the door.
At ten past one there was still no sign of him. An elderly man came into the coffee shop and ordered a cup of tea and a slice of carrot cake. He sat on the empty chair on the other side of Monica and though she was tempted to say it was taken, she didn’t because she was conscious of the fact that Kevin may not turn up at all and then she’d be embarrassed.
She got out her mobile phone and began scanning her emails as if sitting by herself in coffee shops was something she was used to doing. She tried to look relaxed although she felt anything but. She was convinced that everyone in the coffee shop knew she had been stood up and were feeling sorry for her. She had almost finished her coffee and was about to leave when a very embarrassed and breathless Kevin was suddenly standing in front of her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he began. ‘I ran all the way. I was worried that you would have left by the time I got here. I had to finish a rush job and hadn’t realised how long it would take me to get here from work. I would have called but I don’t have your number. I was praying you would still be here.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Monica, relieved that she hadn’t been stood up and giving a ‘See, I’m not a desperately sad case’ smug look to the other patrons in the coffee shop.
‘Can I get you another one?’ he said hopefully.
‘Sure,’ said Monica. ‘I’m in a very boring meeting this afternoon. It will help keep me awake.’ She didn’t want to sound too keen.
He laughed and joined the queue. Monica had spotted a couple who were just leaving and indicated to Kevin that she was going to nab the table. She picked up her coat and handbag and moved nearer to the back of the coffee shop. She watched him as he waited for the coffee at the counter.
His hair was longer than it had been when they first met but he still had the same easy manner and friendly face. He looked a little bit like a younger version of Jamie Oliver but with slightly darker hair.
She wished she’d started dieting earlier or that she had worn one of her suits. She felt more confident in a suit. She tried not to look too keen as he came over to the table carrying the coffees. He smiled as he sat down.
She hoped that he hadn’t noticed the makeup, she didn’t want him to think that she had made the effort just for him.
‘You look different,’ he said, as he pushed the coffee glass towards her.
‘I am trying to lose weight,’ she said smiling.
‘I’ve never met a woman who was happy with her weight,’ he said, ‘but you look great.’
Monica blushed. She felt uncomfortable with compliments. ‘Thank you, but I can’t lend you any money until pay day.’ She forced a smile.
‘No, it’s your hair,’ he said after a while. ‘I’m sure when I worked at Gibson’s you had auburn hair.’ Monica blushed again but this time it was the memory of the auburn wig. She promised herself she would throw it away when she got home.
‘Oh, that was a long time ago,’ she glossed over. She laughed out loud.
‘What’s funny?’ he asked.
‘I was just remembering when we met,’ she said.
‘Ah yes. Induction.’ They laughed as they remembered how they had found themselves sitting next to each other in the meeting room where all the new staff had been gathered to learn about the internal procedures and practices of Gibson Media. After the initial get to know your neighbour exercises they knew they were sharing a table with Ann, Purchase Ledger, Bob, Facilities and Estates and Anita, Readers Letters and Horoscopes.
They got on particularly well as Kevin had a wicked sense of humour and made the rest of them laugh their way through the most boring bits by initiating a game which involved them all writing down the title of a film, TV programme or song on a piece of paper and then passing it to the person on their right. The winner was the first person to work their title into the discussion or question and answer session at the end of each talk.
Monica had marvelled at the fact that Kevin seemed to win most of the time with phrases like, ‘Surely no one would make such a Titanic mistake,’ or ‘things like that are a Basic Instinct.’ He had come completely unstuck during the talk by the Finance Department on purchase orders when he tried to get Ghostbusters into the discussion. The Head of Finance thought he was an idiot but Ann from Purchase Ledger nearly wet herself laughing and had to leave the room.
She had initially thought he was gay. No heterosexual man she had ever met was so well turned out. There was never a hair out of place, and his hands always looked so neat with perfectly manicured nails, which is probably why they got on so well. There was no pressure. It was only after a month or so that he mentioned his girlfriend, Alice, who was apparently moving in.
This piece of information had consigned her to the friend zone. Pushier women with romantic inclinations would have gone for it anyway but to Monica, Alice made Kevin off limits. As far as she was concerned he now had a barbed wire fence surrounding him with machine gunners on the turrets.
‘How is Alice?’ Monica asked, vocalising her thoughts. She hated Alice. She had never met her but she hated her for being the object of Kevin’s affection.
‘You’ve got a good memory,’ he said, nearly choking on his coffee before stuttering through an explanation of how they were no longer together. Monica thought she noticed him blushing.
‘Alice and I parted company a long time ago.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Monica, but inside her head mini Monicas were punching the air shouting, ‘yes, yes, yes’.
‘I often thought of you,’ said Kevin. ‘I imagined that you would be married with kids yourself by now.’
She laughed a nervous laugh. She would not mention Tammy at all until he was completely under her spell.
He glanced at his watch. ‘One forty. Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve made you late for your meeting.’ He stood up. Monica was about to say ‘What meeting?’ when she remembered her earlier excuse, just in case she didn’t like him as much as she used to. The problem was that she did like him as much as she used to and now she would have to rush off.
‘Do you think we could meet for dinner next time?’ he added hopefully.
‘That would be great.’ said Monica, the mini Monicas running round in circles in her head swapping high fives. They exchanged mobile numbers and Kevin promised to email her later. He pecked her on the cheek before parting.
She felt lighter walking back to work, buzzing from the lack of food and the caffeine overload. How would she be able to concentrate on work? She sat at her desk, staring into space, and deeply regretted making an excuse to curtail lunch.
When Joanna was alive they had often discussed their ideal man. They had both agreed that it would be the sexiest thing in the world to have a boyfriend who could play an instrument or sing. Preferably play and sing. That was partly the reason for Joanna’s attraction to Max. He played guitar in a band. It was also the reason he didn’t stick around. He was certain he was destined for greatness. Eleven years on she still hadn’t seen his name anywhere to indicate that he was any nearer to his ambition.
* * *
Liz had promised Monica she would help Tammy move all her things back to her bedroom now the room was finished. They brought the boxes in from the living room and Liz put clothes on hangers and hung them in the wardrobe while Tammy folded up her tops and bottoms, separating school clothes from other clothes as she put them away in the drawers. She then filled the shelves with her DVDs, books and CDs and placed her jewellery box on top of the desk.
After they had finished Tammy pulled out the box of family photographs to show Liz. ‘Your mother was very beautiful.’ Liz was holding a picture of Joanna and Monica at Tammy’s christening. ‘You look just like her. I nearly didn’t recognise Monica with her hair down.’
‘Mum did it. She was brilliant with hair and make-up.’ Tammy’s face was animated. ‘Mum just liked people. I miss her so much. I wish I could talk to her to tell her about my project and you and Sasha.’ Liz gave her a hug.
‘When my Jim passed away I used to talk to him constantly. I gave a running commentary on everything I did. I think I spent so much time on my own I just needed to hear my voice out loud. I was scared that I would lose the ability to speak.’
‘I used to have nightmares’ said Tammy. I would dream that I was on my way to school and would catch a glimpse of mum just up ahead in the crowd. I would run after her as fast as I could, shouting for her to stop, but she was always just out of reach, too far ahead or disappearing around a corner. It was so real.’
‘Do you still have dreams like that?’
‘No, not for a while now, in fact I think I would like to go to the cemetery to plant something on mum’s grave. I didn’t take anything for Mothers’ Day. Will you take me?’
‘Of course,’ said Liz, ‘but I think we should give Monica a call to see if she would like to come too.’ Liz dialled the number. Monica was actually quite pleased that Tammy wanted to go to the cemetery and didn’t mind Liz taking her at all.
‘Do you think she’d like Lavender?’ asked Liz. ‘I’ve still got some in pots, or would you prefer to go to the garden centre on the way.’
‘No, she would love Lavender. I’ll get my tools.’ They finished putting everything away. Tammy picked up her backpack before they popped next door so Liz could grab the plant and her car keys.
The sun was still shining when they arrived at the cemetery. Liz parked her car at the entrance and took the Lavender out of the boot. Tammy had only been to the cemetery twice, once for the funeral itself and then once with Monica just before Christmas to bring a holly wreath.
The cemetery looked so different in sunlight. Tammy led Liz to where half a dozen plaques were set on a sunny bank. They all had flowers planted around them apart from one. Tammy walked towards a plaque where a faded Christmas wreath lay next to a fresh sheath of flowers which she guessed were from Monica. She hesitated before approaching.
‘We brought that, me and Monica,’ Tammy pointed to the wreath. ‘We wanted to make it look nice for Christmas. I didn’t really want to come,’ she continued, ‘but I felt I had to.’ Liz put her arm around Tammy’s shoulders.
‘You don’t have to come here to prove you love your mum,’ said Liz. ‘She knows. I’m sure she’s always in your heart.’
‘I didn’t think I’d ever be able to come here,’ said Tammy. ‘How do you talk to Jim?’ she asked.
‘In my head,’ said Liz. ‘I say all the things I want to say in my head, especially if there are people around. You get some very funny looks talking to yourself but you can say them any way you want to. Write them down if you like. There is no right or wrong way.’
Tammy knelt on the ground in front of the plaque. She got the tools out of her back pack and Liz placed the plants on the ground. She then carefully dug a hole on one side of the plaque and then, holding the Lavender at the base of the stem, turned the pot upside down and shook the plant free. She placed the ball of earth into the hole and pushed the soil in around it.
‘Very professional,’ said Liz. ‘I’ll go and get some water.’ Liz went off to fill the bottle. Tammy ran her hand over the small marble plaque and as she did so she spoke softly to her mother.
‘I don’t know if you can see me,’ she began, ‘but we have moved into a new flat. I have got a big bedroom there and Monica has just had it decorated for me. Nick, he’s the painter, painted a big tree over my bed and we are going to hang photographs from the branches. You would love it, Mum. It’s just like something you would have made.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been here much but I didn’t know what to say to you. I came today with my new friend Liz. She is the lady who lives next door. You might know her husband, Jim, Jim Bailey, he’s been here five years. He likes gardening. I am helping Liz in her garden.’
‘You probably know this already but I am doing really well at school. We get our end of term report in July and I’ll bring mine here to read it out to you so you can see for yourself how I’m getting on.
‘Lastly, I don’t know if you can help but I’d like Monica to meet someone. She needs a husband. I don’t want her to be lonely like Liz.’
Liz was just coming back with the water. It was quiet in the cemetery apart from the occasional bird or car horn in the distance and although Tammy spoke quietly Liz heard Tammy say that she was lonely. She sat on the bench with the water until Tammy had finished speaking. She didn’t want to interrupt.
She felt odd, not quite sad but something she couldn’t define. It was strange to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Lonely, she didn’t feel nearly as lonely as she used to feel but she obviously still gave the impression she was lonely to other people. Why couldn’t Adam see that? She vowed to make more effort with friends and family. ‘I will go to the art show,’ she said out loud, ‘and damn Adam.’ She was suddenly conscious of the fact that Jim might be listening so added, ‘Nick’s just a friend.’ Tammy gave her a sideways glance, the way you would if someone was a bit odd.