by Fanny Blake
I hope you’ll all be able to come. I’m asking Linda and Jane too.
Love
Amy x
PS Kate: I don’t have Jane’s address but I think you do. Would you mind sending the enclosed invitation on to her?
Nice idea.
She closed her eyes and thought about it.
The farm was busy in the late summer, bringing in the hay, doing the repair jobs in time for the winter, preparing the sheep for sale or show. She was expected to be there, doing her bit in the office, answering the phone, making sure the accounts were up to date, helping outside if need be, putting hearty meals on the table for her husband and children.
The answer would have to be ‘no’. Instead of throwing the invitation away, she put it behind the mantle clock so she would remember to reply, then got on with her birthday preparations.
But as she moved through the day, one question kept resurrecting itself. Was she the only one who remembered what had happened that last spring term of school?
Much later she had changed out of her farm clothes, three of her children were home and Alan her husband came through the back door into the kitchen as she took the chicken chasseur out of the oven.
‘Looks good.’ This was his habitual refrain when she put supper on the table, as if today was the same as any other. She remembered the restaurant he had taken her to when they had visited London the year before. She’d have liked to celebrate her special birthday by going somewhere like that again, in York perhaps, or that fancy pub in Oulsted, but he wasn’t one for going out if he didn’t have to.
‘Special occasion or something?’
She flapped her new oven gloves at him. He knew perfectly well.
‘Have you put out the glasses, Kit?’ she called to the twin she could see through the hatch in the dining room.
‘Just about.’ A flurry of movement and the clink of glass suggested that he was just starting.
‘Not stew again?’ Noah, the older of the twins by twenty minutes, came into the kitchen, and draped his arm round Kate’s shoulders, planting a kiss on her cheek. ‘Happy birthday.’
‘This is no stew, you philistine! This is chicken chasseur – your father’s favourite,’ she protested. She had been looking forward to this evening for ages. Having the whole family home together didn’t happen often any more but this was her birthday so they were making the effort. ‘Is Lara here yet?’
Noah raised his eyebrows and shook his head. ‘What do you think?’ The day his eldest sister was on time for something would be another cause for celebration. ‘She’s probably forgotten.’
‘Don’t worry, Mum. She’ll be here.’ That meant Kit must have had a quiet word with her.
‘Can I do anything?’ Noah tried to make amends for his tactlessness.
‘Get everyone a drink,’ said Alan as he left the room. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Why can’t he …?’ Noah turned angrily.
‘Don’t,’ warned Kate. ‘Your father’s had a long day working outside … let him have his shower in peace.’ She didn’t add, and he’s used to me doing everything for him when he gets in, so that’s what he’s come to expect. My fault.
‘So have I.’ Noah had gone straight into the family business after completing his agriculture and animal science degree. She would have preferred him to widen his experience by working somewhere else first but Alan was keen to get him learning on home turf. ‘Might as well get him used to the business. No point him working anywhere else. Won’t be long till I retire.’ This seemed so short-sighted to Kate. Wouldn’t learning different methods and ideas bring new life to the farm? But there was little point in arguing over what was not her domain. Those boundaries had been set years ago.
‘And it’s my birthday, so no arguments,’ she added. She loved every member of her family in different ways but each of them had moments when they could be more demanding than the others. She watched Noah get out seven champagne glasses and dust them off. ‘Champagne? What a treat.’ Her heart lifted.
‘Nothing but the best, Ma.’ He gave her one of those long, lazy smiles that had made her heart melt since he was a baby. ‘Kit and I brought a couple of bottles. I smuggled them into the freezer.’ He went down the steps to the larder and returned with one of them.
‘Yes, please.’ Molly, their youngest, came in and sat at the kitchen table, pulling a glass towards her. ‘Ma, I asked Donal if he wanted to come. That’s cool isn’t it? The others thought it was.’
Kate didn’t miss Noah’s imperceptible shake of the head. ‘Of course.’ Although, much as she loved Molly’s boyfriend, she felt a flicker of disappointment. She had been looking forward to one evening of being surrounded by family only. But, she reasoned, Donal was as good as. So what did it matter? He’d been going out with Molly for four years, since they got together at their school dance just after Molly had completed her A levels. They had weathered going to different universities and their relationship seemed as solid as it could be, given Molly was back living at home while she worked out what she wanted to do with her life. Presumably she wouldn’t be working as a waitress in Bumbles café forever. Kate hoped she wasn’t simply waiting for Donal to propose. She wanted more for her daughter than marriage and children.
‘Nice hair.’ Her daughter was the only one to have noticed the change.
‘Thanks. You don’t think it’s too short?’ She had nervously watched her hairdresser snip away until he was satisfied. Yes, she could have stopped him but she had said she wanted a change …
‘Not at all. It’s quite funky.’
‘Really?!’ Funky wasn’t a word Kate would normally associate with her middle-aged, somewhat overweight self. She wasn’t sure anyone else apart from Molly would either. She touched the unfamiliarly naked nape of her neck.
‘Champagne?’ As Noah filled the last glass, Kit came into the room. She should be used to how different the two boys were from one another even for non-identical twins, not just because Noah was dark and built like a prop forward and Kit was fair, finer boned and sharp-featured. Where Noah was chilled, Kit was wound up like a coiled spring. As far as Noah was concerned, anything went, but Kit was a perfectionist who liked everything just so – right down to the last detail of his appearance. Tonight Noah was in his usual work clothes of T-shirt and jeans – what was the point of changing? – whereas Kit was wearing a shirt and trousers. Instead of following his brother into the family business, he had struck out on his own, much to his father’s incredulity and relief. He read economics at university to become a civil servant. He studied hard, took his ambition seriously – very different from her other children – so that she knew he would make it, despite his only having achieved a lowly job in local government so far.
He crossed the room and draped his arm round her shoulder. ‘All done.’
She felt herself relax. ‘Thanks, darling.’
At that moment, Alan reappeared and put a huge parcel with pieces of mismatched wrapping paper stuck over it on the kitchen table. ‘Happy birthday to my one and only!’
‘You old smoothy,’ said Noah, passing him a glass of champagne.
Alan grinned, smug that he’d remembered.
‘Shouldn’t we wait for Lara?’ asked Kate, touched by her husband’s gesture. So often he had forgotten, or given her presents weeks late.
‘We could be waiting all night,’ said Kit, tapping his fingers on the table. ‘You know what she’s like. Time has no meaning for me any more.’ He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead as if he was about to faint away.
They all laughed.
‘What about Donal? We’d better lay another place.’
‘He’s got football tonight so he won’t be here till much later. I said we’d keep something for him.’
’That’s fine’, said Kate. ‘We’ll keep something warm in the oven.’ She wa
s pleased to have her immediate family on their own for a while.
‘Happy birthday, Mum!’ Molly raised her glass and the others followed suit.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ said Alan, shunting his present across the table towards her.
She felt herself blushing. Being the centre of attention did not come easily. She was happier in the background.
‘Not jewellery, then?’ She joked, but how she would love a new pair of earrings or a necklace. Alan would never take that risk, not even if guided by the girls. As the paper tore off and she realised what the box held, she composed her face into a beam of pleasure and tried to sound surprised rather than disappointed.
‘A duvet! How …’ Words failed her.
‘Yes,’ he said, clearly pleased with himself. ‘You said we needed a new one.’
‘We do.’ But not as my birthday present. The words remained unspoken. She forced a smile and kissed him. ‘Thank you. That’s lovely.’
The front door slammed and Lara blew in, slim, pretty in a floaty floral dress. ‘Hey.’ She smiled at the room then looked at Alan’s present. ‘You haven’t given Mum a duvet for her birthday? Dad, honestly!’ She picked up a glass of champagne. ‘Cheers, everyone. Happy birthday!’
Alan looked indignant. ‘It’s what she wanted.’
‘Even so. You could have been a bit more imaginative. I would have helped you.’
‘You can’t just walk in here and start criticising.’ Molly leaped to her father’s defence.
‘I can do whatever I like.’ Lara tossed her blonde hair back over her shoulder. ‘Anyway I’m sure it’ll be very cosy. I got you something, too.’ She reached into her bag to produce a small box. So not another set of oven gloves (Noah) or apron (Kit) or kitchen knife (Molly). Kate was touched they’d all remembered but the message involving domestic drudgery was coming over loud and clear. How had she let herself be so stereotyped?
‘Thanks, darling.’ Inside the box were a pair of gorgeous beaded and tasselled gold earrings. She held them up. ‘They’re beautiful.’ Although she couldn’t imagine when she would ever wear them.
‘Nipple covers. I can’t imagine you taking up stripping for a living, Mum!’ said Noah, laughing.
‘Noah!’ Molly punched his arm.
‘Earrings, you dummy.’ Lara gave him that withering look that needed no words. ‘They’ll look great on you. Come and see.’
Lara went out with Kate to the cloakroom. ‘Go on, put them on.’ Lara stood at the door, watching as Kate struggled to get the pins through her rarely used pierced ears. She never had much reason to dress up.
Lara clapped. ‘They look brilliant! I knew they would.’
Kate swung round and hugged her daughter. ‘I love them. They make me feel quite different and they’re not at all heavy.’ When she moved her head, the gold threads glinted in the light.
‘Good. I thought you deserved something a bit glamorous. Let’s show the others.’
In the kitchen, the men were laughing.
‘Perhaps they don’t look their best with this old shirt.’ Kate hesitated, running her hands over the faded blue cotton.
‘Then treat yourself to something new. You deserve it, Mum. All you do is wait on this lot. It’s time you did something for yourself.’
‘That’s not quite true.’ Kate laughed, but Lara’s words hit home. She loved looking after her family, had never had much ambition to do anything else after Lara was born. Just occasionally she did dream of striking out, doing something for herself but the opportunity never arose. Or was it rather that she had never grasped it? That’s why she worried about Molly still being at home. Lara meanwhile was working in hospitality at York racecourse and sharing a flat in the city. When they went back in the kitchen, the men were bent over the table, studying something in the paper.
Alan looked up. ‘Whoa!’ He gave a stagey blink or two. ‘Look who’s just walked in! You look …’ He paused.
‘Amazing,’ said Kit. ‘They suit you.’
‘Aren’t they a bit young for you?’ Noah often spoke his mind without thinking of the person on the receiving end.
Kate took a step back but felt Lara’s hand pushing her forward and remembered what she had said. Yes, she did deserve a bit of glamour in her mundane life. Why not?
‘I don’t care,’ said Kate, suddenly emboldened. ‘I like them and I’m going to wear them.’ She shook her head from side to side so the tassels caught the light again.
‘Go, Mum,’ said Kit. ‘Mata Hari in the kitchen.’
‘Mata who?’ said Noah.
Kit put him down with a glance.
‘Oh, piss off.’ Noah drained his glass.
‘Boys! Please. Not tonight.’ Kate nodded towards the casserole. ‘Can you take this through to the dining room?’ Lara was right. It wasn’t the most special of menus but, if it was a family favourite, what did it matter?
Alan picked up the dish. ‘Chicken.’ Matter of fact.
‘I thought chicken chasseur was your favourite.’ Kate was indignant. He knew perfectly well what it was. Although the meal was for her birthday, she had cooked for the family.
‘Ooh, lah-di-dah! Just thinking you might ring the changes once in a while.’
‘Perhaps you should cook once in a while, Dad.’ Lara’s voice was steely. It occurred to Kate that her daughter’s job had given her new strength of character.
‘Get you and your feminist ways,’ said Noah as they all went through to the dining room and took their places at the table.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s a simple question of equality. Why should Mum always be the one in the kitchen?’
‘We’re out all day, working. That’s her side of the bargain,’ said Alan, making Kate feel as if their marriage had been reduced to a business arrangement – although she knew he didn’t mean it.
‘I didn’t notice you arriving early so you could help.’ Molly started pouring out the water.
‘I don’t live here any more, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Thank God.’ Noah’s voice was low but loud enough for them to hear. He took a bottle of wine, going round from glass to glass.
‘Children!’ Kate’s voice was sharp with anger. ‘How old are you?’ And why was it always her who stepped in rather than Alan who was sitting at his end of the table, checking football results on his phone under the table. She could tell by the way he was totally focused on his lap.
‘Sorry, Mum.’ Both Lara and Noah looked sheepish, although Kate didn’t miss the flicker of anger in Lara’s eyes.
‘Give your mother a rest.’ Alan looked up and entered the fray too late to be of any real use. He got up and went to stand behind Kate with his hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s her birthday.’
Kate lifted her glass of wine. She had a vision of sitting at the table on her own in a fancy restaurant with asparagus, a half lobster and salad, raspberries. She would eat every mouthful in silence, savouring each one. The wine would be exquisite, white, crisp and delicate on the palate. Not the rich red that Alan favoured that they were drinking tonight.
‘You know what? I’d rather have white,’ she heard herself say, turning her head up to face him and pushing her glass away.
He looked surprised. ‘But I thought … of course. Whatever you want.’ He left the room to return with a bottle of Sauvignon.
She hadn’t the heart to say anything. But how, after more than thirty years of marriage, had he not registered that was the one white wine she didn’t particularly like. It was the same with carnations and chrysanthemums. Her non-appreciation of them hadn’t sunk in either, judging by the garage flowers he returned home with from time to time. But of course, it was her fault. She had never made her objections clear enough. ‘Is that all there is?’
He looked puzzled and held the corkscrew away from the neck of the bottl
e.
‘I don’t really like Sauvignon.’ There. And she felt better for saying it.
‘You’ve never said.’ He sounded hurt.
‘I’m sure I have. You just never listened.’ She reached up to squeeze his hand to reassure him she was joking. Except she wasn’t. And, judging by the look on his face that disappeared almost as soon as it arrived, he knew it. At least he was trying.
While he went to get the one and only bottle of Chardonnay, the conversation began to dart round the table, stopping at one member of the family, then another – never for long enough for any disagreement to flare up. Kate began to relax. Alan unscrewed the top from the bottle of white wine and poured it for her before taking his place back at the head of the table. This was where she was most comfortable, in the heart of her family. She raised her hand to feel her new earrings and caught Lara smiling at her.
‘Not on my watch, you won’t.’ Alan’s voice rose above the rest. ‘The old tractor’s got a few years left in her yet.’
‘Investing in the future makes perfect business sense,’ Noah said.
‘When you’ve been farming as long as I have, you’ll find experience is better than theory.’ Alan’s fist banged down on the table.
‘In Germany …’ Noah was not going to give up.
‘Boys, please.’ Kate had had enough.
‘No work at the table,’ said Molly, quoting her mother’s oft-used phrase. ‘It’s your birthday, Mum. What would you like to talk about?’
‘Actually I’ve got a surprise for you.’ Conscious of everyone’s eyes on her, she was almost as surprised by the decision she had just taken as they would be. But this evening had made up her mind. Instead of being taken for granted and turning into a drudge, she would do something for herself. Strike out. They were waiting …
‘I’m going to Spain.’ The words fell from her mouth before she had time to deliberate any further. ‘That’s going to be my birthday treat to me.’
Alan stared at her. ‘When? We can’t go now. The farm needs me.’
She smiled down the table at him. ‘Actually I’ve been invited away for a long weekend. Just me and my three best friends from school.’
