When Karen our nanny arrives, I lean nonchalantly against the counter and wait for her to exclaim in admiration. Karen is quite into design and stuff. She always has interesting-coloured trainers or nail polish on, and she reads my Livingetc after me. She’s half-Scottish, half-Guyanese, and has lots of dark curly hair which Anna loves decorating with hair slides. Sure enough, she notices the makeover at once.
‘Awesome!’ She looks around, taking in all the details. ‘I love those curtains! Really awesome!’
Karen’s thing is that she adopts a word and uses only that word for about a week and then moves on to a new one. Last week it was ‘trashy’, this week it’s ‘awesome’.
‘Awesome candlesticks!’ she says, picking one up. ‘Are those from Habitat? I was looking at those last week.’
‘I think they add a pop of colour,’ I say casually.
‘Awesome.’ Karen nods and puts the candlestick down. ‘So, what exactly is happening today?’
She sounds a bit puzzled, and I don’t blame her. We don’t normally employ her on Saturdays, nor do I normally send her texts beginning Don’t tell Dan I’m texting you!!
‘I wanted to give Dan a surprise,’ I explain. ‘Take him out somewhere special.’
‘Right.’ Karen opens her mouth as though to say something – then closes it again. ‘Right. Awesome.’
‘So, if you could give the girls lunch, take them to ballet and then maybe the park? We’ll be back at fourish.’
‘OK,’ says Karen slowly. Again, she looks as though she wants to say something more, but isn’t sure where to start. She isn’t going to ask for a change in hours or something, is she? Because I really don’t have time.
‘Anyway!’ I say briskly. ‘I must go and get ready. Thanks, Karen!’
I take a quick shower before dressing in capri pants and my new cardigan. Sure enough, a minicab soon pulls up outside our house, and I feel a tweak of glee. Dan will be so surprised! In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s him I can hear, arriving home. I’d better get a move on.
It only takes me four minutes to do my make-up and a minute more to put my hair in a knot. I hurry downstairs and pause halfway down, glancing through the landing window. To my surprise, there’s a second cab parked next to the first one.
Two?
Oh my God. Please don’t say …
As I’m staring at the cabs, Dan comes out of the sitting room. He’s wearing a smart blue shirt and linen jacket and his eyes are gleaming.
‘You look lovely!’ he says. ‘Which is good news, because … drum roll … we’re not having pasta at home!’
‘Dan,’ I say slowly. ‘Have you done something? Because I’ve done something, too.’
‘What do you mean?’ Dan says, puzzled.
‘Look outside,’ I say, coming all the way down the stairs. Dan opens the front door and I see him blink at the sight of the two cabs. I’m pretty sure they both come from Asis Taxis, the firm we always use.
‘What the hell?’
‘One of them’s mine,’ I say. ‘Don’t tell me the other one’s yours. Have we both organized a treat?’
‘But …’ Dan is staring at the cabs, looking totally scrubcious, his brow furrowed. ‘But I was organizing lunch,’ he says at last.
‘No you weren’t, I was!’ I retort, almost crossly. ‘It was a surprise. I ordered the cab, I booked Karen …’
‘I booked Karen too!’ says Dan, hotly. ‘I booked her days ago.’
‘You both booked me!’ Karen’s voice comes from behind and the two of us swivel round. She’s gazing at the pair of us and seems a bit freaked out. ‘You both sent me these texts, saying could I work on Saturday and “keep it secret”. I didn’t know what was going on. So I thought I’d just turn up and … see.’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘Fair enough.’
We should have known this would happen. We should have made a plan. Only then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.
‘Well, we obviously can’t do both …’ Dan suddenly focuses on me. ‘What’s your surprise?’
‘I’m not telling you! It’s a surprise.’
‘Well, I’m not telling you mine,’ he says adamantly. ‘It would ruin it.’
‘Well.’ I fold my arms, equally adamant.
‘So what do we do? Toss a coin?’
‘I’m not tossing a coin!’ I retort. ‘I think we should just do my surprise. It’s really good. We can do yours another day.’
‘No we can’t!’ Dan seems offended. ‘What, you’re assuming your idea is better than mine?’
‘Tickets to Tim Wender’s sold-out lunchtime event at the Barbican Comedy Festival?’ I want to say. ‘Our favourite stand-up comedian and lunch? You think you can beat that?’
But obviously I have manners, so I don’t. I just give him a little smile and shrug and say, ‘Mine’s pretty good.’
‘Well, so’s mine.’ Dan glares at me.
‘Let me decide!’ suggests Karen suddenly. ‘You tell me the plans and I’ll decide which one you should go with.’
What? That’s a stupid idea.
‘Great idea!’ says Dan. ‘I’ll go first.’ And there’s something about his ebullient demeanour that makes me wonder for the first time: What’s he planned? ‘We’ll go into the sitting room,’ he adds to Karen, ‘and I’ll pitch you my idea there, where Sylvie can’t hear. No listening at the door!’ he adds to me.
Pitch? What is this, Dragon’s bloody Den?
As he disappears into the sitting room with Karen, I shoot him a mistrustful look. Then I wander disconsolately into the kitchen, where the girls are hoovering up pasta with pesto and studiously ignoring their carrot sticks.
‘What does “virgin” mean?’ says Tessa at once.
I stare at her. ‘Virgin?’
‘Virgin.’ She raises her eyes to mine. ‘I don’t know what it means.’
‘Oh. Goodness. Right.’ I swallow, my mind scurrying around. ‘Well, it means … it’s a person who hasn’t yet … er …’ I trail off and reach for a carrot stick, playing for time.
‘It can’t be a person,’ objects Tessa. ‘How would they fit in?’
‘They would be too big,’ agrees Anna. She measures the width of herself with her hands, then squeezes them together tight. ‘You see?’ She looks at me as though making an obvious point. ‘Too big.’
‘Fit in?’ ‘Too big?’ My mind is ranging uneasily over various interpretations of these remarks. And why is Tessa talking about virgins, anyway?
‘Tessa,’ I say carefully. ‘Have children been talking in the playground, about … grown-up things?’
Do I have to have the whole chat, right here, right now? What is the chat, anyway? Oh God. I know you’re supposed to start early and be all frank like the Dutch, but I’m not saying the word ‘condom’ to my five-year-old, I’m just not …
‘I think it means tomato,’ volunteers Anna.
‘It’s not tomato,’ says Tessa scathingly. ‘It’s green. Green.’
Suddenly I realize what they’re both looking at. The bottle of extra virgin olive oil sitting on the table.
‘Oh, this!’ I say, my voice almost giddy with relief. ‘Extra virgin oil! That just means … very new. Nice new olives. Mm. Yummy. Eat up, girls.’
I will be frank when the time comes, I promise myself. I’ll be Dutch. I’ll even say ‘condom’. Just not today.
‘All done!’ Dan comes striding into the kitchen, exactly like someone who just went on Dragon’s Den and won a million pounds’ investment. ‘Your turn.’
I head to the sitting room, to find Karen sitting on a high-backed chair in the middle of the room, holding a pen and an A4 writing pad.
‘Hello, Sylvie,’ she says in formal, pleasant tones. ‘And welcome. Begin whenever you’re ready.’
I’m already prickling. Welcome to my own sitting room? And, by the way, what’s she writing? I haven’t even started yet.
‘Whenever you’re ready,’ repeats Karen, and I hastily marshal my thought
s.
‘Right,’ I begin. ‘Well, I’m planning to whisk Dan off for a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime treat. We’re seeing our favourite comedian, Tim Wender, in a special lunchtime performance at the Barbican Comedy Festival. Lunch and wine are included.’
I sound like a competition from daytime TV, I realize. Next I’ll be promising him five hundred pounds’ spending money in London’s exclusive West End.
‘Very nice,’ says Karen, in the same pleasant, ambivalent tone. ‘Is that it?’
Is that it? I’m about to retort ‘Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get those tickets?’ but that might not help my case. (And actually, it was Clarissa who pulled the strings, because she used to work at the Barbican.)
‘Yes. That’s it,’ I say.
‘All right. I’ll let you know my thoughts presently.’ She smiles a dismissal and I head back out into the hall, feeling all cross and bothered. This is ridiculous.
Dan comes out of the kitchen, crunching a carrot stick. ‘How did it go?’
I shrug. ‘Fine.’
‘Great!’ He gives me his ebullient smile again, just as the door opens. Karen emerges and looks from me to Dan, her face serious.
‘I have come to my decision.’ She pauses momentously, exactly like a judge on TV. ‘And today … you will be carrying out Dan’s plan. I’m sorry, Sylvie,’ she adds to me, ‘but Dan’s plan just had that extra something.’
Dan’s plan did?
Dan’s plan did?
I can’t believe it. In fact, I don’t believe it. Mine had the extra something. But, just like a TV contestant, I manage to squash my real feelings beneath a vivacious smile.
‘Well done!’ I kiss Dan. ‘I’m sure you deserve it.’
‘I wish we could both have won,’ he says generously.
‘You did really well, Sylvie,’ says Karen kindly. ‘But Dan just had that extra attention to detail.’
‘Of course!’ My smile becomes even brighter. ‘Well, I can’t wait to see it all in action!’
No pressure. But I have set the bar preeeeetty high.
‘Sylvie surprised me with breakfast this morning,’ Dan is telling Karen. ‘So really it’s only fair that I should surprise her with lunch.’
‘Hey, you haven’t mentioned my other surprise,’ I say in sudden realization. Dan was in the kitchen just now. He saw the makeover. So why hasn’t he exclaimed over it?
‘What other surprise?’
‘The kitchen …?’ I prompt, but Dan still looks blank. ‘The kitchen!’ I snap. ‘Kitchen!’
‘Sorry, was I supposed to find something in the kitchen?’ Dan seems bewildered.
I take a deep breath in and a deep breath out.
‘The curtains?’ I say calmly.
I see a look of panic flash through Dan’s eyes. ‘Of course,’ he says quickly. ‘The curtains. I was just going to mention them.’
‘What else?’ I grasp his arm tightly, so he can’t move. ‘Tell me what else I did in there.’
Dan gulps. ‘The … uh … cupboards?’
‘No.’
‘Table … er … tablecloth?’
‘Lucky guess.’ I glare at him. ‘You didn’t notice any of it, did you?’
‘Let me have another look,’ pleads Dan. ‘I was distracted by this lunch business.’
‘OK.’ I follow him into the kitchen, where I have to say, my makeover looks amazing. How could he not have noticed it?
‘Wow!’ he duly exclaims. ‘Those curtains are great! And the tablecloth …’
‘What else?’ I press him relentlessly. ‘What else is different?’
‘Um …’ Dan’s eyes are darting around, baffled. ‘This!’ He suddenly seizes a Nigella cookbook lying on the table. ‘This is new.’
Tessa breaks into laughter. ‘That’s not new, Daddy!’
‘It’s the candlesticks,’ I tell him. ‘The candlesticks.’
‘Of course!’ Dan’s eyes focus on them, and I can tell he’s scrabbling for something to say. ‘Absolutely! I should’ve … They’re so bright!’
‘They’re a pop of colour,’ I explain.
‘Definitely,’ Dan says uncertainly, as though he’s not quite sure what ‘pop of colour’ means but doesn’t dare ask.
‘Anyway, I just thought I’d brighten the place up a bit. I thought you’d like it …’ I allow a slightly martyred tone to creep into my voice.
‘I love it. Love it,’ Dan repeats emphatically. ‘And now, my lady …’ He gives a little bow. ‘Your carriage awaits.’
Luckily the man on the phone at the Barbican Comedy Festival was really sympathetic and had another couple on standby, who were thrilled to get the Tim Wender tickets. (I bet they were.) The second cab wasn’t so thrilled to be cancelled, but it’s a firm we use a lot, so at least they let us off the fare.
On the plus side, Dan’s enthusiasm is infectious, and as we travel along in the cab that he booked, I’m really starting to feel excited. He has something major to spring on me, I know it.
Although weirdly, we’re not heading into town, which is what I would have expected. We’re heading to an unfamiliar part of Clapham. What goes on here?
The car pulls up outside a small restaurant in a side street. It’s called Munch, and I peer out doubtfully. Munch? Should I have heard of that? Is it one of these amazing tiny places where you sit on an uncomfortable bench but the food is award-winning?
‘So.’ As Dan turns to me, he looks all shiny-faced with anticipation. ‘You wanted to be surprised, right?’
‘Yes,’ I say, laughing at his expression. ‘Yes!’
OK, I’m properly excited now. What’s this all about? What?
Our driver opens the door and Dan gestures for me to get out. As he’s paying the cab driver, I scan the menu board on the pavement and see that it’s a vegan restaurant. Interesting. Not what I would have expected. Unless—
‘Oh my God.’ I turn to Dan in sudden alarm. ‘Are you turning vegan? Is that your surprise? I mean, if so, great!’ I hastily add. ‘Well done!’
Dan laughs. ‘No, I’m not turning vegan.’
‘Oh, right. So … you just felt like being healthy?’
‘Not that either.’
Dan ushers me to the entrance, and I push open the door. It’s one of those earthy, worthy places, I can see at once. Lots of terracotta. Wooden ceiling fans. A ‘Pick your own Mint Tea’ planter. (Actually, that’s quite fun. Maybe I’ll steal that idea for dinner parties.)
‘Wow!’ I say. ‘This is—’
‘Oh, this isn’t the surprise.’ Dan cuts me off, almost bursting with pride. ‘That’s the surprise.’
He points at a far corner table, and I follow his gaze. There’s a girl sitting there. A girl with long brown hair and really skinny legs encased in black jeans. Who is it? Do I know her? I think I recognize her—
Oh my God, of course. It’s that girl from uni. She did … chemistry? Biochemistry? What’s her name again?
Suddenly I realize Dan is waiting for a reaction from me. And not just any old reaction.
‘No … way!’ I say, mustering all my energy. ‘Dan! You didn’t!’
‘I did!’ Dan beams at me, as though he’s presenting me with all my dreams at once.
My mind is working frantically. What the hell is going on? Why is some random person from uni sitting at our lunch table? And how do I find out her name?
‘So!’ I say as we give our jackets to a girl with about sixteen earrings in her right ear. ‘Amazing! How did you – what—’
‘How many times have you said to me you wish you’d kept in touch with Claire?’ Dan is pink-faced with delight. ‘So you know what I thought? I thought: Let’s make it happen.’
Claire. She’s called Claire. Of course she is. But this is nuts! I’ve never even thought about Claire since university. What on earth—
Oh my God, Claire.
He’s talking about Claire from the art course.
Somehow, I manage to keep smiling as a wait
ress leads us towards the corner table. There was this girl called Claire whom I met on an art course, years ago. She was really great, with a brilliant sense of humour, and we had a few lunches but then our friendship fizzled out. She’s the one I’ve been talking about.
Not this Claire.
Fuck, fuck …
As we reach the table, my face feels stiff. What am I going to do? ‘We meet at last!’ Dan greets Claire like an old friend. ‘Thank you so much for going along with all my cloak-and-dagger plans …’
‘No problem,’ says Claire in a flat voice. She always had a flat way about her, Claire. ‘Hi, Sylvie.’ She pushes back her chair and stands up, taller than me and make-up free. ‘Long time.’
I glance at Dan. He’s watching the pair of us fondly, as though expecting us to fall into each other’s arms like that YouTube video of the pet lion seeing its owners again.
‘Claire!’ I exclaim in the most emotional voice I can drum up. ‘This is … It’s been too long!’ I hug her bony, resistant body. ‘I just … Here you are! I don’t know what to say!’
‘Well.’ Claire shrugs. ‘Uni was a long time ago.’
‘There should be a bottle of fizz on the table,’ says Dan fretfully. ‘I’ll just go and sort that out … Claire chose the restaurant,’ he adds to me. ‘Isn’t it great?’
‘Fab!’ I say, and take a seat on a really uncomfortable painted wooden chair.
‘So, this was a surprise,’ says Claire impassively.
‘Yes! So, what exactly happened?’ I try to sound casual. ‘How did this all get arranged?’
‘Your husband messaged me on Facebook and said you really wanted to hang out with me.’ Claire eyes me. ‘He said you kept saying what a shame it was that we’d lost touch.’
‘Right.’
I’m still smiling, while my mind darts frenziedly around my options. Do I tell her the truth and have a little laugh and ask her to keep it quiet? No. She’s not that sort. She’d blurt it out to Dan in a heartbeat, I can tell, and he’d be crushed.
Surprise Me Page 11
