by Jenny Colgan
‘Lost a tenner and found a fiver?’ went on the builder.
‘Actually my entire immediate family has just died,’ said Issy, more waspishly than usual. But really, it was such an annoying thing for people to say. The builder looked wounded.
‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it,’ said Issy. ‘It’s just – it’s my birthday today. And I’m single, and my friends are away and I’m feeling a bit lonely, that’s all.’
‘Yeah?’ said the builder, who was about twenty-eight and had a cute cheeky look about him. ‘You can come out with me and the lads if you like. We’re off for a bit of a bevvy.’
Issy quickly restrained herself from saying, ‘On a Thursday? Kate will be furious,’ and merely smiled.
‘What – me and a bunch of builders?’
‘Some girls might like that,’ said the builder.
‘It’s your lucky day,’ said Pearl. ‘Shoo, builders! Out of the shop, you’re getting my nice floor all dirty.’
‘Don’t ban us from the shop, Nan!’ begged the builder. ‘Please!’
But Pearl was already shooing him backwards.
‘You finish that nice lady’s house, we’ll sell you cakes. Understand?’
‘She’s not a nice lady!’ said the builder. Issy was inclined to agree with him, having had Kate very deliberately walk up and down outside the shop tapping her foot and huffing on more than one occasion when she felt the men were lingering too long.
‘That’s not the point,’ said Pearl. ‘Paid for a job, then do a job. Then there’ll be more cake for you. Out you go!’
The builder winked at Issy. ‘Just as well the cakes are good – the welcome’s a bit rubbish.’
‘Off you go,’ said Issy. ‘Be nice.’
‘We’ll be at the Fox and Horses!’ yelled the builder as a parting shot. ‘From four thirty!’
Pearl shook her head and turned to serve the girl from the temp agency up the road.
‘I mean it, I’ll bar them.’
Issy sighed. ‘I just can’t believe it’s the best offer I’ve had today.’ She turned to Pearl. ‘Thanks though. I wouldn’t want to lose Kate’s group.’
‘Happy birthday,’ said the girl from the temp office, who always looked like she’d had about two hours’ sleep and needed an extra shot of caffeine in everything she bought, including the coffee cake. ‘Birthdays are crap. My last one I spent watching the Ghost Hunters marathon on Living. I couldn’t sleep,’ she added. ‘I’m an insomniac.’
‘I’d be an insomniac if I watched Ghost Hunters,’ said Pearl.
‘Oh dear,’ said Issy, thinking desperately about what she could possibly find to do that wasn’t just watching TV that night. ‘Extra shot?’
‘Yes please. Happy birthday.’
Issy wasn’t even that keen to close up at the end of the day; she didn’t chivvy the hang-backers fiddling with their laptops, or bundle up the newspapers for recycling. She held back, straightening everything up for the following day. Pearl looked at her.
‘I have to go get Louis now, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Would you … would you like to come for supper with us?’
Issy couldn’t bear Pearl feeling sorry for her. Which wasn’t attractive, she realized; it meant she felt that she should feel sorry for Pearl. But that was just the way it was.
‘No, no … well, yes I would, obviously,’ she added quickly. ‘Yes, please. But, you know. Not tonight.’
Pearl nodded. ‘OK. Bye then!’
And the bell dinged, and she was gone. It was still a beautiful afternoon outside, the shadows lengthening. Sod it, thought Issy, turning the sign to Closed and locking the door. This was ridiculous. She had done nothing but mope about all day. Well, that was going to stop. Almost without thinking, she propelled herself out of the shop and up to the high street again. A little boutique had opened up, run by a friend of Caroline’s. Even if she was still slightly nervous about the high street, she was going in to have a look, and that was that.
The shop, just called 44, was packed tight with clothes, and smelled beautiful and expensive. Issy tried not to feel intimidated by the elegant blonde saleswoman with the perfect red lipstick and fifties sunglasses sitting behind the counter.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I was looking for … well, a dress.’
‘You’ve come to the right place,’ said the woman, eyeing her up and down in a professional manner. ‘Evening? Or just something kind of smart but not too over the top?’
‘Yes. That.’ Issy glanced about. ‘And not too expensive.’
The woman raised a beautifully plucked eyebrow. ‘Well, you know, quality does show.’
Issy felt her face go a little pink again, but the woman bustled away through the back. ‘Stay there!’ she yelled, and Issy stayed rooted to the spot, looking around at the Aladdin’s cave – beautiful chiffon cocktail dresses in hot pinks and deep reds hung on the wall, looking as if they demanded to be drenched in perfume and taken out to dance; little bags with shiny patent bows that were large enough only for an invitation and a lipstick; extraordinarily beautiful shoes. It was so lovely it reminded Issy how long it had been since she’d got dressed up for something, or someone.
The woman returned, bearing just one garment.
‘Come on then.’ She harried her into the tiny dressing room. ‘Are you wearing a decent bra? Nope, thought not.’
‘You’re as bossy as Caroline,’ said Issy.
‘Caroline! That woman is a pushover,’ said the shop owner. ‘Now, bend down.’
Issy did. And when she straightened up, the soft mossy-green jersey of the dress rippled down her as the silk slip fitted her skin.
The dress skimmed her curves, gave her a tiny waist, and the full skirt swooshed out and swung every time she moved. The green brought out her eyes and contrasted wonderfully with her black hair; the boat neck showed off a hint of white shoulders and the elbow-length sleeves fitted perfectly. It was a dream of a dress.
‘Oh,’ said Issy, looking in the mirror, then doing a spin. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘Yes, I thought it would work,’ said the lady, peering over her specs. ‘Very good then.’
Issy smiled. ‘How much is it?’
The woman named a figure that was almost, but not quite, more than Issy would ever have dreamed of paying for a dress. But as Issy turned and twisted to catch sight of herself once again, she realized: this would be hers. Because it was lovely, yes, but because every penny it would take to pay for it wasn’t a wage, or a credit card bill, or something random and untouchable. This was her money, earned by her, every penny, fair and square.
‘I’ll take it,’ said Issy.
She went back to the café then, conscious she’d dashed out without finishing up, but utterly thrilled that she had. Once she’d let herself in, she ran the coffee machine one more time, made herself a large foamy latte, covered it in chocolate powder, selected one of the few leftover cakes – a chilli chocolate, possibly too advanced for their clientele, but a wonder nonetheless – selected the evening paper and collapsed on to the sofa, her head well down and her back to the window so no one would see her over the arm of the chair and think they were still open for business. She had nothing to do and no one to do it with, so she wasn’t going to hurry to get everywhere. She would just sit for a few minutes, that was all. It was very comfortable here, and she’d had a busy time of it and there was lots to do tonight as well, sign off her insurance and do her stocktake and check to see if anyone had sent any flowers to the house and maybe she’d have some of that awful wine of her mother’s in the bath and …
When Issy woke up again, the shadows had lengthened in the courtyard, the tree casting its shade right into the shop itself, and she blinked, not at all sure where she was. Also there was a noise that sounded vaguely familiar … yes, it was Felipe playing his violin. But why would he bother at this time of night, when everything was closed? It wasn’t the next morning, was it? She checked her watch. No, she’d on
ly been asleep for an hour and a half. So what was all that noise? She turned round, stretching out her arms sleepily and …
‘Surprise!’
At first Issy thought she’d fallen asleep again. This made no sense. Outside, in the just fading daylight, she saw the little stumpy tree, with fairy lights strung from branch to branch. The lights were lit; it reminded her of the lantern in Narnia. But what surrounded it was even more surprising. Felipe, dressed in a rather dishevelled dinner jacket and bow tie, was playing ‘Someday’ and standing around him was … everyone.
Helena was there, with Ashok of course, who had his arm round Helena’s shoulders and was displaying her as if she were the finest piece of china. Ashok firmly believed that dedication was what had got him into medical school and on to a tough rotation and would one day propel him towards a top surgical career. Dedication was all it took. And he had taken the same path to Helena. Finally, it appeared to be paying off. He was trying not to grin like a Cheshire cat, but inside he felt ten foot tall. Zac was there with his girlfriend, Noriko. Pearl and Louis of course, laughing their heads off, and Hermia and Achilles bounced excitedly next to Caroline. But more than that, all her friends were there – her real friends. Tobes and Trinida from college, all the way from Brighton. And Tom and Carla from Whitstable. And Janey, looking utterly exhausted, her friend since that illfavoured play in freshers’ week, had managed to drag herself away from her new baby. Paul and John were there, still loved up obviously; Brian and Lana, whom she’d entirely resigned herself to having a Facebook relationship with, if that; even François and Ophy from her old office … Issy’s heart flooded. She rushed out of the shop then realized she had locked it behind her, and had to fumble around to find the keys. Everyone still outside laughed heartily, and when she finally let them in, launched into a rousing chorus of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ that brought instant tears to Issy’s eyes, as did the thoughtful, lovely gifts, as did the hugs and kisses that greeted her.
‘This is your last chance,’ said Zac, with a half-smile. ‘Stop neglecting all your friends.’
‘OK,’ said Issy, nodding frantically. Everyone came into the café who hadn’t been there before and oohed and ahhed, and Helena unleashed the crates of champagne they’d hefted over from the house, after they’d all hidden in the cupboard for three-quarters of an hour and realized she wasn’t coming home. Pearl had figured it out first and rung Helena, then they’d crept into the square one by one, giggling heartily. And now it was time to party! And she even had the perfect new dress.
Felipe played up a storm as the friends and family, clients and random people (Berlioz turned up to eat the snacks) mingled and chatted. The evening was wonderfully warm, and the soft lighting of the Cupcake Café blended with the fairy lights of the tree and some candles Helena had brought put a magical glow over the whole of Pear Tree Court, turning it into an enchanted space, a private paradise full of laughing friends, cheerful toasts, birthday cake, spice cake, hunter’s cake, Paris cake and every kind of cupcake. Louis danced with everyone who passed and the sounds of companionship and gaiety spread up through the brick houses; anyone passing in the street would have wondered about the little oasis of sparkling light under the darkening sky.
As old friends often do when they come together again, everyone grew quite tipsy quite quickly, so that by the time Austin had finally settled Darny with the babysitter and could consider leaving the house (crossing his fingers, and failing to mention to the babysitter that unless she had a PhD in dinosaurs she might be in for a rocky evening), Issy was pink in the face and entirely overexcited, talking babies, other friends, old incidents and the shop to anyone who strayed into her orbit, regardless of where she knew them from. Pearl had called him up and insisted with some severity that he came along, and he wasn’t going to risk her wrath. As soon as he arrived, he noticed immediately that everyone was a bit squiffy. So he’d have to keep playing sensible banking adviser then. He sighed.
‘Austin!’ Issy yelled when she saw him, a glass of champagne or two to the wind. What the hell, she found herself thinking. So he didn’t like her – it didn’t matter. But he was here! Graeme wasn’t here; no one had even mentioned him. It was her birthday. She was looking lovely in her green dress, and suddenly she felt absolutely wonderful; full of happiness and love and joy. This was the party her grandfather had wanted her to have and she wanted to share it with everyone.
She waltzed up to him. ‘You knew about this!’ she said accusingly. Austin thought how pretty she looked with her hair curly and full and her cheeks and lips pink with excitement. ‘You knew!’
‘Well, of course I knew,’ he said mildly, accepting with some surprise her arms thrown around him. He was sure there was something in the banking manual about not getting too close to your clients. Of course he’d never read the manual. He remembered back to their near-miss kiss that morning and glanced around. A very skinny blonde woman was staring at him, hungrily.
‘Who is that?’ said Caroline, reflexively dropping Achilles’ hand, who immediately set up a wail.
‘Back off,’ growled Pearl.
Caroline gave a little laugh. ‘What, him and Issy …’
A warning look from Pearl stopped her from going any further, but inside Caroline felt completely uncowed.
Austin smiled. ‘Pearl told me. Well, I say told me, Pearl ordered me here. And when Pearl tells you to do something …’
Issy nodded fervently. ‘Oh yes. If you know what’s good for you.’
Pearl, standing on the other side chatting to friends of Issy’s who were telling her a little more about their new baby’s bowel movements than perhaps she had specifically requested, glanced over. The lights gleamed off Issy’s hair as she stretched up on tiptoes to hear what Austin was saying; he was so tall and messy-looking. Whatever it was, Issy had opened her mouth in laughter, grabbing Austin’s arm as she did so. Pearl smiled to herself. Well, yes. She thought that one looked about right.
‘Ahem,’ said Helena, suddenly standing next to Issy. Issy jumped away from Austin slightly suspiciously.
‘Yes?’ she said. Then, ‘Oh, Lena. I can’t believe … I can’t believe you did all this. I’m so, so, so …’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Helena quickly. ‘Well, you were working so hard, and I knew you wanted to see people, so …’
‘It was a lovely thing to do.’
Helena looked pointedly at Austin.
‘Oh.’ Issy felt her blush rising. ‘This is—’
‘Are you Austin?’ asked Helena, to cause maximum embarrassment. Oh great, thought Issy, now he’d know she’d been talking about him. ‘Hello there.’
‘Hello,’ said Austin gravely. Helena reckoned Issy had talked too much about the reddish hair and not enough about the stunning grey eyes and broad shoulders. This guy was miles better-looking than Graeme. But she didn’t want Issy throwing herself in it too much and getting blown out again. Twice in a year would really be pushing it.
‘You need to mingle more,’ said Helena to a pink Issy. ‘All these people have come a long way. He works across the road.’
Issy smiled apologetically at Austin.
‘Oh, yes, I suppose …’
‘Get Issy another drink,’ ordered Helena to Ashok, and he immediately scuttled off to do so.
‘You’ve got him under control,’ said Issy in admiration. ‘I thought you wanted a man to take charge of everything, like a kind of hot Simon Cowell?’
‘Simon Cowell is a hot Simon Cowell,’ said Helena crossly, with the air of a woman tired of repeating herself. ‘Anyway, I thought that too,’ she added.
Ashok glanced at her back across the room. He loved a woman who knew what she wanted.
‘But sometimes you never know what’s right for you.’ Helena lowered her voice almost apologetically and in a near-whisper said, ‘I’ve never been happier.’
Issy hugged her.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you, my dear friend. It’s wonderful. It’s jus
t fantastic. I’m so glad you’re happy.’
And she hurried off to chat to her long-travelling, longsuffering friends, while Austin skulked in the shadows, chatting to Des the estate agent, which wasn’t his ideal notion of where this party was headed, but still, the babysitter hadn’t rung yet and this was a personal record.
At 9.30, suddenly, there was a bolt of noise. Helena had been expecting a bit of complaining from neighbours and had been quite prepared to move the party back to the flat, but this was the familiar rattle of a shop grille coming up with a noisy snap. It was the ironmonger’s. He couldn’t, Issy thought. He couldn’t still be here at this time of night. But he was. With solemnity and funereal speed, the ironmonger emerged from the shop, which was in pitch darkness, and glided towards Issy. Issy, slightly the worse for wear, suddenly envisaged him in a top hat, like something out of Dickens. He was wearing, instead, a dark three-piece suit and a fob watch. She smiled a welcome to him, and offered him a glass of fizz, which he refused. Instead, he stood in front of her.
‘Happy birthday, my dear,’ he said, and gave her a very small, wrapped parcel. Then he nodded his head (he should have tipped his top hat, thought Issy tipsily. Or topped his tip hat. Ooh, she had to stop drinking), and vanished out of the little close and into the dark night.
Everyone gathered round as Issy opened the parcel, which was wrapped in brown paper. Inside was a small cardboard box, which Issy opened with slightly shaky, overexcited fingers. Then she drew out, to gasps of admiration, a tiny keyring; a fine filigree of metal, twisted exquisitely into the shape of the logo of the Cupcake Café, with, next to it, an exact representation of the pear tree they were currently underneath. It was utterly exquisite.
