Annabel put a hand up to the chain around her neck. ‘No, it’s not that,’ she replied. ‘My husband, he died.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said the woman.
Annabel recognised the sympathy in her eyes as she carried on drinking her water.
‘My husband died young too,’ she said. ‘And although you’ve probably heard this a hundred times before, I can assure you, life does go on.’
Annabel smiled; she was trying to disguise the fact that, for her, it most certainly didn’t. ‘I take it you re-married,’ she asked. She might not be able to move on herself, but that didn’t stop her feeling pleased for those that could.
‘Me?’ replied the woman. ‘No, I was too busy single-handedly raising a child to even think about meeting someone else. Of course, that’s not to say I didn’t have the odd admirer or two, I just kept them at arm’s length. Nobody matched up to my husband, you see.’
‘There’s still time,’ suggested Annabel. ‘None of us know what, or who, is around the corner.’
The woman laughed. ‘I think it’s a bit late for me to start thinking like that. But you’ve got plenty of time.’
Annabel took in the woman before her. It felt good to meet someone who knew first-hand what she’d been through; what she was still going through. Family and friends meant well in their advice, but they had a tendency to come over as a tad judgemental when she didn’t follow their guidance. This woman, well she understood.
‘I thought I’d met someone,’ she said. ‘His name’s Dan. But things didn’t work out.’
‘Oh,’ said the woman. Her eyes widened, as if encouraging Annabel to continue.
‘You’d like him. He’s funny, smart, and in the short time we knew each other he helped me to start enjoying life again. And you know how hard that can be when it comes to us widows.’
The woman laughed. ‘Tell me about it,’ she said.
‘It’s not that I compared him to Tom. Tom’s my husband, by the way. I just got scared.’
‘Of what?’
‘I don’t know. Lots of things I suppose.’
‘And did you tell this Dan how you felt?’ asked the woman.
‘No, I hardly dared admit it to myself and I haven’t a clue how he feels about me. Anyway, falling for Dan seemed too much like a betrayal.’ Annabel paused; she wondered if she was sharing too much information. ‘You’ll probably think I’m mad,’ she said. ‘But when my husband was alive I promised I’d stay faithful forever. Childish I know, but I gave my word.’
‘Some promises are meant to be broken,’ said the woman. ‘Thanks to circumstance, sometimes we’re left with no choice.’ She too seemed to pause for a second, as if thinking about her own life. ‘What would your husband want you to do?’
Annabel began wrapping the customer’s flowers. ‘He’d want me to be happy.’
‘Even if that means starting over with someone else?’ asked the woman.
Annabel nodded. ‘Yep.’
‘Well there you go then.’
Annabel sighed. ‘It’s not that easy though, is it?’ she asked.
‘The best decisions in life never are,’ the woman replied. ‘Look, I can’t tell you what to do one way or the other, but what I can say is that you have a long road ahead of you. I know that makes me sound like a hypocrite, but I had a child to keep me going and even though he’s all grown up now, I still do. But it isn’t easy being on your own. No man is an island, as they say, and believe me, it can get very lonely. We need someone to share our lives with. We need to love and be loved.’
‘You sound like my sister and best friend. They think I should just go with the flow and see where it takes me.’
‘Wise words,’ said the woman. ‘Maybe you should listen to them?’
The woman carefully eased herself off of the stool and picked up her handbag. ‘Time I should be going,’ she said, as she headed for the door.
‘Don’t forget these.’ Annabel called after her as she held up the flowers.
The woman turned with a knowing smile. ‘They were never intended for me,’ she said. ‘They were always meant for you.’
Annabel watched her make her exit and felt confused. Why would a complete stranger want to gift her flowers?
‘But …’
Before she could say anything else, the woman was already out of the door and half way into the taxi. Forced to watch it pull away, she looked down at the blooms in her hand.
‘Daffodils.’ Acknowledging their meaning, she couldn’t help but smile to herself.
Annabel stared at the car as it drove off into the distance.
‘New beginnings,’ she said.
23
Music played in the background as Annabel flitted around the kitchen, tossing the last of the vegetable peelings into the bin and giving the work tops a final tidy up as she went. While humming along to the tune, she turned her attention to the mound of pots and pans on the draining board that were waiting to be dried and put away. Her humming stopped. Did she really use all that just to make a simple casserole?
As she grabbed a tea towel, she couldn’t help but laugh at herself. Having never been what anyone could call an organised chef, she wondered why she’d never invested in a dishwasher. For most people, they came as standard and, looking at the pile before her, she could certainly see why. She thought back to when she and Tom had first moved into the house. Back then, such a purchase had seemed an unnecessary expenditure and, later on, she supposed there’d never been any point. After all, how hard was it to wash a single plate, a knife, and a fork?
She paused, and realised her solitary dining experiences could very well soon be a thing of the past. A prospect that felt both invigorating and scary at the same time. Forced to reign herself in, she tried not to think too far into the future. ‘Now you’re getting ahead of yourself,’ she said. ‘It’s still early days. And as you well know, a lot can happen in the meantime.’
With the self-pep talk over and the last of the drying up put away, Annabel checked the kitchen clock. Never one to run ahead of schedule under any circumstances, it surprised her to find she still had plenty of time to spare. She smiled and looked up to the heavens. ‘What do you think, Tom? Impressive, eh?’
Annabel refused to let herself think too much and took a deep breath. However, she knew it was a case of too little, too late; no amount of breathing exercises could stop her excitement creeping in. With her insides stirring, she couldn’t work out if it was a host of butterflies now playing havoc in her tummy, or a little man in there using her intestines as a trampoline. Either way, she had to find a way to at least try and calm down.
‘Maybe it’s time for a well-earned glass of wine,’ she said.
She made her way over to the fridge. Annabel took out a bottle of white and retrieved a glass out of the cupboard; she poured herself a small measure. ‘That’ll do,’ she said. Although unable to resist, she decided to add just a tad more for prosperity’s sake. She raised the glass into the air, in a self-congratulatory toast. ‘Cheers!’ she said.
‘It’s only us,’ a voice suddenly called out.
Annabel paused mid sip. She hadn’t even heard the front door go.
‘The kids were playing up and I just had to get out.’
‘And as I’m all on my lonesome,’ shouted another. ‘We thought we’d come and keep you company.’
Annabel’s shoulders slumped. Katy and Rebecca, that’s all she needed.
‘Something smells good,’ said her friend.
As she and Rebecca burst into the room, Annabel watched her sister stop in her tracks. Suddenly suspicious, Rebecca’s eyes narrowed as she began surveying her surroundings. From the daffodils on the dining table to the casserole cooking in the oven, she took it all in, before walking over to the stereo and abruptly turning it off.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked, the room at once silent. ‘And before you try to even to deny there’s something taking place here, remember, I know you too w
ell.’
‘As do I,’ said Katy. ‘So come on, reveal all.’
Annabel did her utmost to appear cool and collected. ‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,’ she replied. ‘You’re both obviously imagining things.’ Not that the lack of an admission did anything to allay her visitors’ curiosity. If anything, it seemed to make it worse.
‘I know what it is,’ said her friend. She dumped her bag on the counter top, at the same time sighing as if something terrible had just dawned on her. ‘You’ve gone and found yourself another sperm donor, haven’t you?’
‘Jesus, Annabel,’ said Rebecca.
Their joint disappointment was more than evident.
Annabel laughed at the mere suggestion. The two of them couldn’t be more off the mark if they’d tried. ‘Of course I haven’t,’ she said. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘Doh!’ replied Katy. ‘Why did you do it the first time around?’
Annabel shook her head. Surely they knew that if anyone had well and truly learned their lesson on that score, it was her.
‘Well you’re up to something,’ said her sister. As usual, she refused to give up. ‘And it’s only a matter of time before we find out what.’
‘I assure you,’ said Annabel. ‘I am up to nothing.’
Looking at the two of them, it wasn’t that Annabel didn’t want to share her news. These were her closest confidents and she’d been dying to say something for days. In fact, she’d almost let recent events slip on more than one occasion and she knew full well how pleased for her they’d be were she to tell them what was going on.
But they’d also be equally devastated if something went wrong and Annabel knew first-hand how life could be perfect one minute, only to be turned on its head in the next. As far as she was concerned, why put them through that if she didn’t have to? She didn’t know how things were going to quite pan out herself just yet. Plus, there was the added bonus of having a little secret for a while. It seemed to make things more special somehow. However, despite standing firm, it seemed that her sister and best friend were as determined to uncover the truth as she was to hide it.
‘Well if you’re going to be like that,’ said Rebecca. ‘You leave us no choice.’ Rebecca took her coat off and rolled her sleeves up, she turned to Katy. ‘Let’s look at the evidence shall we,’ she said.
Annabel knew what was coming next. It was a game they’d been playing since childhood. As kids, one of them, usually Rebecca because she’d always been a Little Miss Bossy Boots, would set clues to a puzzle and taking on the persona of a couple of amateur sleuths, it was up to the others to try and solve it. Of course, as they grew older their game extended into real life situations. The mere whiff of a juicy secret in one and the other two would immediately come over all Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot. And this, it appeared, was one of those times.
After observing them get into character, Annabel decided to let them have their fun. She knew they’d find out soon enough anyway, even if she didn’t plan on making it easy for them. She watched on as her sister began by wiping a finger across the kitchen counter and then inspecting it.
‘Firstly,’ said Rebecca. ‘The place is spotless.’ Her sister had adopted a rather posh and somewhat exaggerated English accent; she glanced around the room once more. ‘Not a speck of dust in sight, no magazines lying around, and definitely no take-away boxes poking out of the bin.’ She strode over to the cooker and, after picking up the oven glove, opened its door to check the pot inside. ‘Secondly,’ she continued. She took in the chunks of beef, carrots, and celery sticks, all sitting in a rich, simmering gravy. ‘You’re cooking.’ Her sister calmly replaced the casserole dish lid and closed the oven door again, before swiftly turning to face Annabel. ‘You never cook,’ she added. ‘A fried egg sandwich is more your thing.’
Katy stepped forward, more than happy to pick up the baton. ‘Thirdly,’ said her friend. ‘The lady is looking pretty darn hot herself.’ She raised her arm, ready to address Annabel’s appearance from head to toe. ‘Notice the French elegance of the chignon du cou,’ she said to Rebecca. ‘The way the hair wraps around itself, the odd wisp creating a sense of romance.’
While Rebecca sagely nodded her head in agreement, Annabel couldn’t help but shake hers. The woman sounded more like a cheesy fashion show host than any insightful detective she’d ever read about.
‘Then we have the little black wrap dress,’ her friend carried on. ‘Figure hugging in a sexy sort of way, yet, at the same time, casual enough so as to create the illusion of effortlessness. And, of course, moving on, we have the kitten heels.’ She paused, looking Annabel directly in the eye. ‘Need we continue?’
Annabel looked from her friend to her sister. As investigative double acts went, these two were no Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.
What they were, however, was impossible and Annabel realised that if she didn’t reveal all, they were likely to never give up; or more to the point, leave. ‘Alright, alright,’ she said. She steeled herself ready for the barrage of questions no doubt about to ensue. ‘If you must know, Dan’s coming round.’
Annabel took in their astonished faces.
‘Really?’ said Katy.
‘Since when?’ asked Rebecca.
Back to being themselves, the posh accents suddenly became a thing of the past.
‘Since we’ve been talking,’ Annabel replied.
The two of them looked at each other confused.
‘Talking about what?’ asked her sister.
‘What do you mean, about what? What do you think?’ replied Annabel.
‘So this means the baby thing’s back on again, does it?’ asked her friend. ‘Because first it is, then it isn’t. Honestly, I can’t keep up.’
Annabel felt herself blush. Surely she didn’t have to spell it out. ‘No, Katy, the baby thing is not back on.’
She waited for her friend to realise the significance of what she’d just said, finally, the penny seemed to drop.
‘Oh, my, word,’ said Katy. A great big smile immediately spread across her face. She turned to Rebecca. ‘You know what this means don’t you?’
Her sister frowned, seemingly trying to grasp what they were talking about. ‘I haven’t a clue,’ she replied.
‘Then let me help.’ Katy cleared her throat as if ready to burst into song. ‘Annabel and Dan are sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N.G.’
‘No,’ said Rebecca. She turned her attention to Annabel. ‘Really?’
‘That’s not quite the way I’d have put it,’ Annabel replied. ‘But yes, really. Dan and I have decided to give things a go.’
There, she’d admitted it.
‘I think we need to sit down,’ suggested her friend. Katy headed for the table, her sister followed suit, both of them giggling as they went.
Annabel watched them take a seat and wondered if they knew what a pair of gossip merchants the two of them sounded. Not that they’d care anyway.
‘I knew she’d see sense eventually,’ said one, her excitement there for all to see. ‘She just needed a bit of time to take on board everything we said.’
‘Obviously,’ said the other, full of relief. ‘Although I have to admit, I was a bit worried for a while.’
Annabel couldn’t help but smile as she listened to them, it came as no surprise to hear them taking full credit, even when it wasn’t due. Yes, Katy and Rebecca had meant well in their advice, but they’d never been able to fully understand the fact that some things are easier said than done. Especially when it came to moving forward after the death of a loved one, Annabel considered; something she was grateful they’d never had to experience.
She pictured the kindly woman who’d called into the shop and thought it funny how it took a complete stranger, rather than family and friends, to make her see things differently. Goodness knew what they’d say once she told them about her well-meaning customer and the daffodils. Thanks to Katy and Rebecca, the poor woman’s ears were, no doubt, a
bout to burn.
‘Well?’ said Rebecca. ‘We’re waiting.’
‘And start from the beginning,’ said Katy. ‘Don’t leave anything out.’
Annabel stared at the pair of them. Arms on the table and hands clasped, they clearly anticipated a blow by blow update. It reminded her of way back when. As a trio of schoolgirls they often shared dating tips gleaned from magazines, advising each other on what to wear and how to behave when it came to meeting up with a boy. Afterwards, they’d animatedly spend hours dissecting every aspect of the evening, rejoicing when things went well and commiserating when they didn’t.
Their eagerness seemed to be catching and suddenly feeling like a teenager again, Annabel giggled as she joined them at the table.
‘Okay, okay,’ she said. She looked at the clock. ‘But we’ll have to be quick. What do you want to know?’
With nothing but an empty wine bottle and half empty glass for company, Annabel sat at the kitchen table. She stared at the wall clock, the steady sound of its tick-tock, tick-tock seemed to scoff her as it broke through the silence.
‘How could you have been so stupid?’ she asked herself. ‘How could you let someone do this to you?’
She tried to ignore the hopeful little voice in her head, as it continued to insist there was still time yet, there could be a knock at the door any minute now. But Annabel knew that was just wishful thinking. Dan had no intentions of turning up. He probably never did.
Sitting there in her finery, she felt humiliated beyond belief. And angry. He must have known how hard it was for her to call him in the first place; that just dialling his number had taken every ounce of courage she possessed. Her stomach sank as she recalled how she’d rambled and stuttered in her attempts to tell him how she felt. If it was embarrassing at the time, it felt even more so now. When he finally understood what she’d been trying to say, he must have been having a darned good laugh at her expense. Contending to be as keen as her that they should give things between them a go, he’d clearly been saying one thing while thinking another. Or maybe she’d misunderstood in some way? She’d simply heard what she wanted to hear. Whatever the case, Dan obviously wasn’t the caring, trustworthy individual she’d thought. Usually so punctual, his no-show proved that.
The Trouble With Words: a heart-warming romantic comedy Page 20
