Anna

by Amanda Prowse

  She turned again, this time at the sound of a female voice. Ned’s mum, unlike her husband, had made no attempt to disguise her nightwear. She was wrapped in a pink towelling dressing gown, beneath which hung the hem of a lace-edged floral nightie.

  ‘Hello, love! I’m Sylvie!’ She waved, holding a cigarette up between her fingers.

  ‘Hello.’ Anna looked from one expectant face to the other. She was backed into a corner. This was happening.

  As she crossed the threshold, a blanket of nostalgia threatened to swamp her. She was in a proper little home that belonged to a family and it felt lovely. She could hardly bear to look at the shoes lined up under the radiator in the hallway. Warmth and love danced in the air, embracing her too. The ache for her mum and her big brother hit her with such force she was almost winded.

  She followed Ned into the cosy lounge and sat back on the burgundy leatherette sofa, resting her head against one of the crocheted cream antimacassars. She couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

  Damping down the emotion that threatened, she let her eyes wander the narrow mantelpiece above the gas fire, the shelves in the alcove and the strip of tiles that sat on the floor, a buffer between the carpet and the fireplace. There were ornaments and knick-knacks everywhere. Woven china baskets with crude pottery flowers and dust filling every crevice, a minute wooden plinth with a brass ship’s wheel, several thimbles with the names of the places where they’d been bought inscribed on them in gold script, a glass cloche over a faded silk rose, like the one her mum had, and a whole selection of china, glass and wooden angels.

  ‘I can see you looking at all my bits and pieces.’ Sylvie smiled at her. ‘I love all me ornaments. Most of them were my mum’s.’ She crinkled her eyes. ‘He keeps saying he’s going to have a clear-out, but I’ve told him he’ll ’ave to clear me out first!’

  ‘Don’t start her off, Anna! She’d have the whole bloody place covered in bric-a-brac if I let her, and I wouldn’t mind, but none of it’s worth a bob!’ Ned’s father, Jack, gave a throaty chuckle, which soon turned into a wheeze.

  ‘I told you, it’s the antiques of the future!’ Sylvie shouted.

  Anna sat on the sofa in the small, square room with Ned by her side, enjoying the obvious affection with which his parents ribbed each other.

  ‘Now...’ Sylvie took a step forward and tightened the belt on her dressing gown. ‘What can I get you, love? Cup of tea, cup of cocoa? It’s too late for coffee.’

  ‘Oh no, I’m fine, thank you. I don’t want to keep you up.’

  ‘Keep us up! Don’t be daft! Cocoa or tea?’

  ‘Cocoa would be lovely.’ She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her a cup of cocoa.

  ‘Stick the kettle on, Jack,’ Sylvie instructed. Jack duly wandered off in his slippers. ‘Now, what you gonna have to eat?’

  ‘Oh, really, nothing!’ Anna placed her hand on her stomach. ‘Cocoa would be lovely, but it’s a bit late for me.’

  Sylvie continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I’ve got some leftover chicken, or I could make you an omelette – I’ve got cheese, ham?’

  ‘No, thank you, that’s really kind, but nothing for me.’ Anna smiled.

  ‘Just toast then?’ Sylvie stood poised with her hands clasped in front of her.

  ‘Nothing. I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘I think we’re okay for food, Mum,’ said Ned.

  ‘Jack, bring the biscuit barrel!’ Sylvie yelled.

  Jack returned seconds later with a mini wooden barrel complete with studs and brass-effect metal strips.

  ‘Help yourself.’ Sylvie removed the lid and held the barrel out to her.

  Anna felt obliged to dip her hand in and was delighted to pull out three custard creams, her favourite.

  ‘That’s my girl.’ Sylvie’s grin told her that she’d done the right thing. ‘So, where do you work, Anna?’ Sylvie plonked herself down in the chair beneath the picture window.

  ‘She works for a firm of solicitors,’ Ned answered on her behalf.

  ‘Ooh er, clever girl!’

  ‘Not really.’ Anna felt herself blushing but was secretly chuffed that Ned’s mum thought her job was something to be proud of. It felt wonderful. She took a bite of custard cream. It was soft.

  ‘I wish you’d try and talk Ned out of his latest venture.’ Sylvie tutted. ‘Up all bloody hours of the day and night, filling the house with gone-off strawberries! Fruit and veg – what a thing! I told him he’d be better off doing the painting and decorating like his dad.’

  ‘I’ve told you, Mum, I don’t want to do painting and decorating. I like what I do,’ Ned shot back.

  ‘Well, we’ll see ’ow you feel when it’s cold and dark and snowing.’ She winked at Anna. ‘We’ll see how happy you are being up in the middle of the bloody night looking for fresh bleedin’ pineapples. While your dad is snug as a bug with a paintbrush in his hand, heater on, radio playing, cup of tea.’

  ‘My dad’s a black cab driver.’ Anna didn’t know where the words came from or why they’d popped out there and then. It might have been the three glasses of white wine she’d consumed earlier or the fact that this room reminded her so powerfully of her mum that her guard was down.

  ‘You never told me that!’ Ned said with obvious surprise.

  She shrugged.

  ‘Well, there we go. We know a few cabbies. What’s his name?’ Sylvie asked.

  Anna felt her mouth move, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say.

  ‘His name’s Michael,’ she eventually whispered, knowing what would come next.

  ‘His surname, love? What’s your dad’s surname?’ Sylvie asked. ‘Jack might know him – he knows everyone!’

  This time she had found her voice. ‘I don’t know.’

  She saw the crinkle of confusion appear on the bridge of Sylvie’s nose.

  Jack came back into the room. ‘Here we go, darlin’. Lovely cup of cocoa.’

  He bent down and held out a plastic tray with red and orange flowers hand-painted on one side. Anna almost did a double-take. The tray was just like the one her mum had had, the one they’d cooled cakes on and eaten their tea off in front of the TV. The one Joe had wrecked by resting a cigarette on the plastic and leaving a puckered black hole in it. She’d quite forgotten about it until that moment. It must have been thrown away with all the other stuff in the flat.

  ‘Thank you.’ She took the mug into her hands, balancing the remaining custard creams on her lap and cursing the tears that threatened to spill.

  8

  Ned sat on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms behind his broad back as he yawned.

  ‘I hate you having to get up so early,’ Anna mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. ‘I feel like you don’t get enough sleep. In fact I feel like we don’t get enough sleep.’

  ‘Did my mum tell you to say that? Gawd, even after I’ve been at it two years she’s still nagging me about giving up the stall. I wish she’d give it a rest. But I’ll tell you what I told her – I’m fine. So don’t worry.’ He squeezed her foot beneath the duvet. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  She yawned again. ‘It’s hard not to in this tiny space. You only have to turn over or fart and I’m awake.’

  ‘I’ll only admit to one of those.’ He grinned at her and slipped his arms into his padded plaid shirt. ‘But you’re right, it is a tiny place. I’m sick of keeping everything I own in a plastic box. My clothes are permanently in a suitcase, it’s like I’m on the shittest holiday in the world!’

  ‘Thanks a bunch.’ She sniffed.

  ‘I don’t mean with you! Every minute with you is five bloody star. I mean if I turned up on holiday and was given this place, I’d probably ask to be moved. And so...’ He turned to face her. ‘That’s what I’m doing. I’m asking you to move.’

  ‘Oh not this again.’ Anna lay back against the wall and briefly pulled the pillow over her face.

  ‘Yes, this again. Y
ou can’t hide. We need to get a bigger place. We’ve stuck it out long enough – it must be more than a year since I properly moved in, isn’t it? And I can’t even have the lads over. Can you imagine inviting them in and asking them to sit on the bed and we all have to budge up to make space!’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘And now you’ve had your promotion, plus the stall is doing well, so we can rely on my income a bit more and maybe try and find somewhere nearer my mum and dad. They’d love that – you’d never get rid of them!’

  ‘I’d be the size of a house.’ Anna pictured Sylvie beating a path from her front door to theirs in her slippers at all hours of the day and night, bearing an endless procession of food. She’d grown to really love Ned’s family over the past couple of years, and she was in no doubt that the feeling was mutual. She liked to think of Sylvie and Jack as being like a pair of comfy socks, because they made everything feel a little bit better. So she was surprised at her reaction to the future life Ned was painting. It sparked a leap of fear in her chest, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

  ‘I think we should stay here.’ She looked around the walls, prettified by framed postcards and additional strings of fairy lights. ‘I know it’s not perfect, but it’s so affordable that, God forbid, if ever I lost my job and couldn’t get another, I could still pay the rent for quite some time, just out of my savings.’

  ‘Oh, Anna, you don’t have to worry about that stuff. First of all, you’ll never lose your job. Everyone knows they just love you there, Madam Senior Receptionist! And secondly, I have a job too and I can look after you.’ He looked at her sincerely and pushed his fringe from his eyes. ‘You’re not on your own any more. You’ve got me.’

  ‘I know, and that’s lovely of you to say, Ned, but it’s really important to me that I can take care of myself.’

  ‘You need to let me in a bit more, Anna.’

  She stared at him, knowing that this request, however reasonable, might just be beyond her capabilities.

  *

  Making her way along the street just outside work, she caught sight of Melissa coming in the opposite direction and waved. They both sped up and met by the glass lobby on the ground floor.

  ‘What’s up?’ Melissa asked.

  ‘Why do you think there’s something up? I haven’t said a word yet! Good morning, by the way.’

  ‘How long have I worked with you?’

  ‘Erm, about two and a half years?’

  ‘Exactly. And for all of that time I have sat right by your side for at least eight hours a day. I know your every mood.’ Melissa arched an eyebrow and gave her an appraising stare. ‘And I can tell by your body language and your expression just how you’re feeling before you have said a single word.’

  ‘That’s a bit worrying. So what’s my body language and expression telling you right now?’ Anna pulled a face and stuck out her tongue.

  ‘Ah, that’s another thing, Anna. You can joke, but you can’t hide how you’re feeling – you’re one of those people who wears their feelings like a large hat, visible to everyone. So come on, talk to me. We’re not leaving here until you do.’ Melissa folded her arms across her chest, as if this might emphasise her point.

  Anna exhaled and looked into the middle distance. ‘I’m having...’ She swallowed, regrouping her thoughts. ‘I mean, I am starting to think...’ Again she paused. ‘I think I might be tired. That’s probably it.’ She forced a tight-lipped smile.

  ‘Come on!’ Melissa grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, towards the front door.

  ‘Where are we going? We’ve got to get to work!’

  She looked back over her shoulder as Melissa headed purposefully along the street. Anna, tethered to her via a clamped hand, trotted in her wake. They came to a halt at a bench set back from the edge of the road next to a litter bin scrawled with graffiti and covered with cement-like lumps of gum.

  Melissa sat down and patted the bench next to her. Anna followed suit.

  ‘I don’t think you’re happy and I don’t like it. You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy.’ As was her manner, Melissa cut to the chase.

  ‘I am.’ Anna avoided her gaze.

  ‘No, I don’t think you are,’ her friend repeated. ‘I think you are happy enough, but that is not enough, if you get my meaning.’

  Anna smiled weakly. Ironically, she did get her meaning. She hid her face in her hands, letting out a long sigh. When she sat up and removed her palms from her eyes, her words flowed.

  ‘I think I might be having doubts about Ned.’

  Melissa nodded, seemingly unsurprised, and waited for Anna to expand.

  ‘Not so much about him – he’s great – but it’s a million tiny things.’ She paused.

  Melissa nodded sagely. ‘It always is, honey.’

  ‘He was talking about how much his mum is bothered by his early starts and he was trying to reassure me that he’s fine and I stared at him and I realised that I didn’t care that much and I know that makes me sound like a terrible person!’ She buried her face in her hands again.

  Melissa yanked her wrists so she could see her face. ‘You are not a terrible person, just an honest one.’

  ‘Oh, Mel, he keeps asking me to move into a bigger flat with him and he says he wants to look after me more.’

  ‘The bastard!’

  ‘I can’t even joke about it. He’s lovely, I get it, but...’ Anna stared at the traffic rushing past and chose her words carefully, words that would mean a change of direction for her, a new start. ‘I don’t think he’s for me, not long-term and I don’t think I’m for him, not really.’ She grimaced. ‘And I feel so bad because he is lovely.’

  She looked up at Melissa, who gave a thin-lipped smile.

  ‘I already know this, honey.’

  ‘What do you mean, you “already know this”?’ She pulled her head back on her shoulders and knitted her brows.

  ‘Ned is beautiful to look at and sweet. But I see the way you dumb down when you’re with him and I have a suspicion that you’ve fallen for the whole package.’

  ‘In what way?’ Anna asked, conscious of her defensive tone.

  ‘I mean that you love his friends, who make you laugh, and his parents, who make you cocoa, and his beefcake bod that protects you and keeps you warm through the cold, dark nights, yada yada...’ She raised her hands.

  Anna stared at the graffiti on the litter bin – JW Luvs DS. The Selector – anything rather than let her insightful friend see the flicker of recognition cross her face. ‘I don’t know if I love him.’ She whispered the words aloud for the first time and felt a stab of guilt in her chest.

  ‘That means you don’t love him,’ Melissa stated flatly. ‘No one in love, in true, deep, committed love, has ever said that. If it’s right, that thought does not occur.’

  Anna sighed and closed her eyes. Melissa was right. She did love the whole package, his welcoming parents, who were always so pleased to see her, his mates, who included her in their ribbing, but as for spending the rest of her life with Ned? She pictured their evenings, him watching the TV and her reading a book. They never had any discussions about anything other than their respective days. She wasn’t knocking him, his intellect or his job, no way! She admired him and liked him very much, but it was something more than that. There was no spark. No excitement about the future, and there was so much that she had never told him, as if a sixth sense told her there was no point.

  Her mum’s advice, ‘you’ll know if he’s the one’, was always there at the back of her mind. She didn’t share her mum’s conviction, but if she was honest, in her heart of hearts she did know that Ned wasn’t the one.

  ‘I can’t stand the idea of hurting him.’ She shivered at the prospect.

  ‘I know, but the longer you let it go on, the more he will be hurt. The kindest thing is to do it fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.’

  Anna nodded, feeling sick at the prospect. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get to wo
rk.’

  ‘Yes, good point. The senior receptionist is a total cow, wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her!’ Melissa reached over and kissed her friend and now boss on the cheek.

  *

  Over the next few days Anna tried and failed several times to find the right moment to talk to Ned. It seemed he was always either rushing in or rushing out, or one or both of them was on the point of falling asleep.

  Excuses, Anna. Excuses.

  She shook her head to rid it of this truth and lingered in the supermarket aisle, wondering what might be quick and easy to make for their tea. It was tricky with only two rings on the worktop stove, but they managed. Admittedly the menu wasn’t that varied: pasta and sauce, sauce and pasta, soup, baked beans... She stopped. Something had caught her eye. Staring at the boxes of ready-made cake mix, she selected one for a Victoria sandwich, transfixed by the image on the front.

  This was what her grief did, even all these years later. Without warning, it hijacked the most mundane of moments and was powerful enough to make her body fold and her tears spout. She could almost smell the two halves of sponge baking in the oven – her wedding cake. She could hear her mum and Joe arguing in the next-door room. Her memory of that day was still acute.

  Anna slowly placed the box back on the shelf and wiped her face with the sleeve of her jumper pulled over her hand. She’d lost her desire to shop for their evening meal. She’d make do with whatever was at the back of the cupboard, or Ned could go out for chips. Again.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Ned sat up on the bed the moment she walked through the door. ‘Have you been crying?’ His face was creased with concern as he hurried over and wrapped her in his arms.

  With her head resting on his broad chest, she inhaled the scent of him. It was a nice place to be, a nice, safe place, but Melissa was right: it wasn’t enough.

  She pulled away. ‘Yes, I’ve been crying. Thinking and crying and knowing that you and I have to talk and kind of wishing that we didn’t have to – if that makes any sense. But we do need to talk, Ned. We need to talk about our future.’

  And just like that, she’d found the moment. It was now.