They catch me sometimes, thoughts of you.
Usually when I’m least expecting it. The way the light falls reminding me of the lane outside our house in the springtime. Some sound or colour, a smile from a stranger or the light in someone’s eyes. My pupils dilate, my heart beats fiercely in my chest, and the pain of it sheer takes my breath away.
And the worst thing is that I know you’re out there. Somewhere. That your life goes on, and yet I’m no longer a part of it. You chose that for me. And I know you had your reasons, but it still hurts.
It’s at times like these that I wonder how you are. Does it still hurt? I’m guessing it must, it can’t be easy. Most of all I wonder if you have someone to share any of that with, someone who helps you when it’s tough, just by being there. Someone like I could have been.
The woman in front of me tuts, and her impatience breaks my train of thought, but not my line of sight. I can still see the man who is four ahead of me in the queue. The dark curl of his hair where it creeps over the edge of his collar that so reminds me of you. You skin was so soft beneath it. The place you always loved to be touched.
There are six in the line at the post office, all of us hunched and waiting, more or less unmoving beyond the odd shuffle, or impatient cluck. But I don’t mind. There are worse places to be than standing here gazing at a complete stranger and remembering what it felt like when you were mine.
‘Alys?’
I drag myself back to the present. ‘Hi Angela,’ I say, finding a smile. ‘What a beautiful day.’
She looks at her watch. ‘Is it? I only popped in for a couple of stamps, but it’s so busy in here I don’t think I’ll bother. Anyway, I’m glad I’ve caught you. Is your phone not working again today? Only I’ve messaged you twice.’
‘I’m not allowed my phone on the shop floor,’ I reply mildly. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before. ‘Sorry if I missed you. Was it urgent?’
She frowns. ‘I wouldn’t have sent the message if it wasn’t. But listen, I need to know about Scarlett’s cake. Are you sure that Esme has everything in hand?’
‘It’s all under control,’ I reassure her. ‘I thought I told you that at the weekend.’
‘Did you?’ She pulls a face. ‘Only I know how forgetful you are at times…’
I let her comment wash over me. ‘Well, don’t worry, I definitely did check with Esme, and I promise you the cake will be ready for the party.’
Angela nods.
‘Your hair looks nice,’ I add. ‘Have you been to have it done?’ It’s Monday, so I already know the answer, but I ask the question anyway.
‘Marco, bless him,’ she replies, smoothing her hand over her lacquered and beautifully elegant chignon. ‘What would I do without him?’
I take a step forward as the queue shortens by one. ‘I know, let’s just hope he never moves to another salon, wouldn’t that be awful?’
Angela’s eyes widen in astonishment. ‘Heavens, Marco would never leave me in the lurch. You really should give him a call, you know. He could work wonders for you.’ She eyes the end of my lifeless ponytail which is curling over the top of my shoulder. Even its bright-red colour seems faded these days.
I nod. ‘Hmm… but he’s a bit expensive really and I…’ I trail off, tired of making my excuses. ‘Anyway…’ I gaze at the queue still ahead of me, the minutes of my lunch hour rapidly ticking away. ‘Don’t let me keep you, isn’t it your book club meeting today?’
‘I’m on my way there now as it happens.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Right, well I’ll be in touch later to see how things are going. I still haven’t heard from Edward about what colour dress Natasha is wearing, so if you get the chance perhaps you could find out?’ She glances at her watch once more and turns to go. ‘Oh, and Alys? Don’t forget to have Hugh’s suit dry cleaned, will you?’
I’m about to reply, but my mother-in-law has already gone. I let out a breath, slow and cautious, and my eyes stray towards the counter. Damn, the man up ahead has gone. I’ve missed him, and now it’s gone back to being just an ordinary day, in a queue at the post office and I probably won’t have time to eat. Again.
I take out my phone.
Morning Tash, I text. How did the dress-hunting go?
A row of dots appears almost immediately as my sister-in-law starts typing her reply. I’m dead.
I smile at her response. Well that will certainly solve the problem.
Not funny, Alys, what am I going to do? I only found two dresses I actually liked and they were both midnight blue. Angela will never speak to me again. Alys, help me pleeeaaase… Where else can I try?
I think for a minute. There’s only one possible solution.
Are you free tomorrow? Come round about seven and I’ll see what I can do xx
Oh God, THANK YOU!! Are you sure you have the time?
I don’t really, but that’s not the point. Of course! See you then xx
She blows a kiss in reply. And I inch another step closer to the counter.
It takes forever to get back to the shop and by then only a miserable six minutes remain of my lunch break, or rather four, if you count the two minutes it will take me to pop to the loo and walk back down to the sales floor. The sandwich that I hastily made this morning is now redundant and I stuff it back in my bag; I’ll probably eat it later while I’m cooking tea. I eye my banana without enthusiasm, but it’s going to have to suffice.
Hilary is already pacing the floor by the time I get back to the desk but, despite her beady eye and ever-present desire to make my life a misery, I’m on time and there’s nothing she can say. I just hope she doesn’t notice that my phone is jammed into the back of my waistband, hidden by my jacket over the top. It’s on silent but there’s no way I’m missing a message from Esme. Not today.
Her text doesn’t arrive until gone four. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Her interview was at three, so maybe they were late in starting… or it was a long interview… they could have shown her round and introduced her to everyone… or maybe it was awful and it’s taken her this long to bring herself to tell me…
My mouth is suddenly dry as I walk behind the nearest row of shelves. Hilary is with a customer and they’re looking at zips; as long as they have no sudden interest in voile I should be safe from her gaze. I only need a minute…
Mum it went great!! And they were so lovely… Dear God, please let me get this job…
You will! They’ll have loved you, who wouldn’t? My fingers are flying over the keys. When will they let you know?
Tomorrow! Urgghh, I can’t wait that long…
I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. And so glad it went well. I have to go, but I’ll speak to you soon and you can tell me all about it. Love you xxx
Love you more xx
I blink. And then several times more in rapid succession. My girl. My Esme. How did you get to be so gorgeous?
A noise to my right makes me start, but it’s just another customer and I clear my throat, jamming my phone into the back of my skirt. There’s only another hour until we close. I can make it. I take down a bolt of fabric on my way back to the desk and lay it flat, ready for cutting.
I’ve worked in Harringtons department store for twenty-five years and eleven months. A lifetime. Almost. Or perhaps that’s just how it feels. It certainly wasn’t meant to be that way. I had my whole future planned out, all my dreams spread before me, but then I met you, on the day I started with them, and my life changed forever. It’s how I can recall the number of years that have passed with such accuracy – not that it helps of course, quite the opposite in fact.
I haven’t spent all that time here though, not in this branch. I moved… afterwards… and I’ve been in this division of the company ever since. I was even a manager for about ten years, but then they closed soft furnishings and my job went with it. We’ve hung onto dress fabrics, and the wool, which still does okay, along with a few bits and bobs – zips, buttons and the like – but we’re tucked at the back of homeware and we don’t need a manager; just Hilary, our supervisor, who was drafted in from bedding, and Elaine who works with me two days a week.
‘Is that for personal use, Alys?’
‘Yes, but I have the book here to record it,’ I reply, tapping the cover of the red hardback notebook which records staff purchases and samples.
Her mouth settles into a thin line. ‘Good, well make sure I sign it off. That’s an expensive fabric.’
I nod and continue cutting. ‘Hmm, and with any luck it might be the perfect material for Natasha. I think I mentioned there’s a big family party next weekend, for my other sister-in-law, Scarlett. It’s for her engagement and it’s all a bit posh so we’ve got to be in best bib and tucker.’
One of Hilary’s eyebrows raises a millimetre.
‘Natasha has yet to buy a dress, so I think I’m going to be making one for her. After the disaster at Christmas she can’t risk another faux pas.’ I smile, folding up the fabric as I do so. Hilary’s face is blank. ‘You know, when Tash turned up at the swanky meal my mum-in-law had paid for wearing an almost identical dress to her?’ I add, trying to jog her memory. I’m sure I told her about it. ‘You wouldn’t have thought it would matter that much, would you?’
But there’s scarcely a change in Hilary’s expression.
‘Anyway…’ I pull the red book towards me, opening the pages. ‘I thought this would look so pretty on her. I’ll see what she says.’
I don’t know why I’m bothering to explain, really. Hilary has never been one for small talk and today she seems more uncommunicative than usual. I know I’m babbling, trying to fill the silence. It’s the silence I hate most of all.
She pulls her face into a tight smile. ‘Perhaps when you’ve done that you could sort out the knitting patterns for what remains of the day. They’re in a dreadful muddle. I don’t think they’ve been looked at for quite some time, and there are a few new ones to go out.’
I finish writing up the details of the sample I’m taking home and nod, handing Hilary the book before walking over to the knitting section, an area I tidied only the day before yesterday. It doesn’t do to argue.
I’ve got very good at whiling away the time, finding jobs to do and keeping busy, but it’s still a relief when I see Hilary cross to the storeroom to collect the blue folder. She’ll place it by the till, ready to record the day’s takings, and it’s my signal that the end of the day has arrived. I wait a couple more minutes before joining her behind the desk. I never want to look too eager to leave, but in my head, at least, I’m already back home.
‘It hasn’t been too bad today,’ I remark. ‘The morning was busy.’
‘Busier,’ corrects Hilary. ‘But only compared to this afternoon, which was even worse than yesterday.’
I purse my lips. ‘That’s why I wondered about running the craft classes, you see. We’d easily have time to do them. And l’m sure it would bring people in…’ I trail off. ‘Did you have a chance to look at the information I put together?’
Hilary regards me stonily for a moment. ‘Not yet,’ she says flatly, opening the folder, but then her expression softens a little. ‘You can go now if you like. I can finish up here.’
I should argue, but I don’t normally get let off my end-of-day duties and I’m desperate to get home to see Esme. Whatever the reason for Hilary’s spontaneous act of generosity, I’m going to take full advantage of it.
‘Thanks Hilary, if you’re sure?’
She smiles. ‘Didn’t Esme have her interview today?’
I’d had no idea she was even paying attention when I’d told her, let alone that she would remember. I nod, careful not to mention that I’ve already heard from Esme. ‘I’m desperate to hear how it’s gone,’ l reply. ‘It will be such an amazing opportunity for her.’ I look around one last time. ‘Right then. Everything is tidy and ready for tomorrow, so I’ll see you then.’
I’m three steps from the counter before Hilary stops me. ‘Oh, Alys. Sorry, just before you go. There’s a letter here for you.’
I stare at the white envelope in her hand, wondering where she’s magicked it from. She’s holding it out for me and there’s something about the way she’s standing and the borderline smug expression on her face that makes the penny drop with a dull clank. I ease the letter from her fingers with a forced smile.
‘Thanks, Hilary.’ There’s no way I’m going to give her the satisfaction of opening it now. Not in front of her. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Back in the staff room I stuff the letter inside my bag. I don’t even need to read it to know what it says. My full name is typed on the front of the envelope. Not ‘Alys’. Or ‘Alys Robinson’. But ‘Mrs A. M. Robinson. 305592. Haberdashery’. It’s from Human Resources, and I’m not sure what I’m more upset about. The fact that I’ve just lost my job, or that my husband couldn’t even be bothered to tell me himself.
The kitchen is full of the most amazing smell when I get home. I got stuck in traffic, I’m late, hot, thirsty, tired and utterly fed up. But all that changes the moment I walk through the door.
Standing by the cooker in flip-flops, shorts and a baggy tee shirt, Esme is frying onions. Her long hair is tied up so that it snakes in a thick copper coil down her back.
‘God, that smells amazing! What are we having?’ I dump my bag on the table and cross the kitchen to have a better look.
‘Just a curry,’ Esme replies. But it won’t be just a curry, not when she’s cooking it. ‘Sorry, I needed to keep busy…’
She turns to look at me and I can see the taut strings of tension on her face, the longing in her eyes. I open my arms for a hug. ‘Never apologise for cooking tea,’ I say. ‘Especially not today.’
Esme surrenders for a few seconds, squeezing me breathless, but then pulls away. ‘Why? Have you had a rotten day?’ She can see it on my face too, I’m sure.
‘No,’ I reply, dismissing her question. ‘I rather meant that I knew you’d be on tenterhooks. And this’ – I point to the pan – ‘has always been your way through everything. Why should today be any different?’ I smile fondly, holding her look.
‘Oh, Mum… I want this job so badly!’ She holds her palms to her cheeks, blowing out air between her lips. ‘You know how that feels. When you want something so much you think you might die if it doesn’t work out.’
I did know how that felt. Once.
‘Then it will absolutely happen,’ I reply. ‘The universe wouldn’t dare deny you, Esme.’ I grin. ‘Well, it had better not, not if it knows what’s good for it.’ I cross to the kettle, lifting it to check the weight before flicking it on to boil. ‘So, come on then. Tell me everything… What was it like? What were they like?’
Esme slides the pan of onions off the heat. ‘Just perfect…’ She sighs. ‘Nancy was… just like you, so lovely, warm, funny… absolutely on it. In fact, even in the short time we were together she felt like she could be a bit like a second mum – does that make sense? Like she’s going to look out for me, teach me everything I need to know, and not mind if I make mistakes, just encourage me all the same.’ She stops suddenly. ‘Well, maybe not me. Whoever gets the job.’
I smile. ‘Go on…’
‘And in the kitchen it’s just her and her son, and me… whoever… so a really small team, tight-knit, really collaborative. Nancy has already said that everyone is an equal as far as ideas and suggestions go. How incredible is that? I mean, I’m straight from doing my diploma, I don’t know anything, but that didn’t seem to matter and… Sorry, I’m gabbling.’
‘Would you like some tea?’ I ask, eyebrows raised in amusement.
There’s a swift nod. ‘And Theo, that’s the son, isn’t really much younger than I am. A couple of years I’d say… long hair in a bun and a beard…’
‘Oh?’
Esme blushes and I suddenly feel incredibly old.
‘Mu-um… I’d be there to work, not lust after the staff. Besides, what would I want a boyfriend for? They only get in the way.’ She gives me a stern look and sighs with longing. ‘I’d learn so much, Mum, and just think… I’d be working at The Green Room. If nothing else that’s going to look amazing on my CV.’
‘I know. I still can’t quite believe they’ve come to our little corner of the world. I would imagine that they’ll find Norfolk a little different from the bright lights of the big city. Did they say why they’re opening here?’
‘Only that Nancy said she wants to step back a bit from what they’re doing in London. The restaurant there has its own staff now and pretty much runs independently of her. Plus Norwich is already making a name for itself with vegan and vegetarian food, so it seemed a good fit. That’s all she said really. Oh, and that as she’s got older she has a hankering to live by the sea.’
I shrug. ‘Fair enough. They seem as good reasons as any, and I guess we don’t need to know why they’re here, we can just be grateful to have them in the first place.’
Esme chews the side of her lip. ‘I’m glad, actually. That it’s not in London, I mean. This is… smaller, more me, to start with at least. And this Green Room isn’t going to be like its counterpart. It’s a completely new business and Nancy says she wants it to be different too, to make its own mark, have its own personality and that will be down to all of us.’
I can see how much Esme wants this. It’s the most amazing opportunity for her, apart from anything else, but to have the chance to be in on something at its inception… It’s the kind of thing I dreamed about once upon a time.
Her face falls a little. ‘There is just one little problem…’
‘Oh?’
‘If I get the job, I might struggle with some of the evening shifts because of the bus timetable. So, I was wondering… whether you might be able to give me a lift? Just to start with until I can get something else sorted out.’
I smile. ‘The something else being to learn how to drive? I think that’s an excellent idea.’ A little flicker of resolve stirs itself. ‘And I know your dad isn’t keen on the idea, but you have to learn sometime and now would seem to be that time, wouldn’t it?’
Esme’s eyes light up.
I pour water into our mugs, giving the teabags a good prod. ‘In fact… I can help you learn too if you like. Have proper lessons as well, but any extra practice we fit in can only be good. I’ll talk to Dad. I’m sure we can work something out.’
‘Would you really, Mum? Are you sure?’
But I only have to look at her face to know how certain I am. And besides, if I needed any more persuading, I have a letter in my handbag which provides all the incentive I need.
‘I’m not sure what time he’ll be home this evening, but I’ll make sure I talk to him tonight. Strike while the iron’s hot and all that.’
She pulls me into a hug. ‘Oh, Mum, thank you so much!’
I laugh. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s the right thing to do. But I might just have a quick tidy up, you know how he hates mess.’
‘I’m not saying I think it’s a bad idea, Alys, just that there’s no real need to rush into it. There’s the cost to consider for one. Driving lessons are expensive and that won’t be the end of it. Once Esme passes her test she’ll want a car too no doubt.’
I pass Hugh a plate to dry. ‘Quite possibly. But we can afford it, surely?’ The expense has always been my husband’s justification for saying no.
It’s gone seven, our meal eaten, and Hugh and I are standing, as we have done nearly every evening of our married life, doing the washing up. It’s his one contribution to the domestic side of our life together. I dip another plate into the foamy suds and smile. The wrongs I’ve attempted to put right over a bowl of hot water don’t bear thinking about, but then twenty-three years is a long time.
I wrinkle my nose, wondering how to continue. ‘Or do you mean it’s going to be harder now that we’ll just be on the one salary?’ I pause. ‘Although I wouldn’t worry, I mean, my redundancy money will more than cover it.’
The cloth stills on the plate and I look across to study the side of Hugh’s face with its receding hairline, greying hair now mixing with the dark.
‘Ah,’ he says, grimacing. ‘I was going to talk to you about that.’
I listen for a moment, making sure that Esme is still safely up in her room. ‘Good, because it comes to something when your husband is the manager of the company you’ve just been made redundant from, and you don’t even know it’s going to happen.’
‘Alys, I’m sorry… I had no idea you were going to get the letter today, believe me. HR got the jump on me before I’d even had the chance to discuss it with you.’
‘But you still could have told me, surely,’ I reply. ‘We both know these aren’t spur-of-the-moment decisions. You must have known about this for weeks.’
He has the grace to look ashamed. ‘About the redundancies, yes. The fact that you were on the list, no. HR decide all these things, Alys, you know that as well as I do, and the recommendation list only came out just over a week ago. And I did plan to tell you, it’s just…’ He looks across at me, concern etched on his face. ‘Just that there never seemed to be the right moment. I didn’t want to upset you…’
My eyes narrow, roving his face for any trace of misdirection. ‘I’m glad to hear you were going to discuss it with me at least. Otherwise I might be tempted to think I wasn’t even being afforded the same courtesies as regular members of staff – you know, those people who aren’t married to the boss.’ I raise my eyebrows, holding out another dripping plate.
He swallows. ‘Which makes it even harder for me. Perhaps I should have let HR deal with it completely, that way you would have been notified before. But, given that we are married, I asked them not to. I thought it would be better coming from me. Besides, you know that things haven’t been going as well as they could have. Retail is a tough market to be in just now and department stores are being hit hard. Even if I can’t discuss the intricacies of the business with you, you were well aware that redundancies were being planned.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t think one of them was going to be me.’
Hugh eventually takes the plate, seemingly unaware that water has been dripping to the floor. ‘Look…’ He clears his throat and lowers his voice. ‘Look, I can’t be seen to be showing you any favouritism, Alys, for goodness’ sake. What would it look like if I asked for you to be taken off the list? And your department is simply not making the money it should; the footfall doesn’t justify three members of staff. This was purely a business decision. Besides, out of anybody in that department, you’re the most… comfortable, shall we say.’
‘That’s hardly the point.’
‘Isn’t it? I should have thought that was entirely the point. I have a responsibility to all my staff, and if I can make a decision that accommodates several good outcomes instead of just one, then I have to take it. Hilary is on her own, as you know, and Elaine’s family circumstances are… well, not like ours.’ He scrubs crossly at the plate in his hand. ‘I did think you might be grateful though. You can’t tell me you actually enjoy your job, and now you’ve been set free from it.’
His face smiles up at mine and I bite back what I want to say. I know he thinks this is doing me a favour, it’s just that…
‘And at least now you’ll be getting the opportunity to take things a little easier. Have more time to attend to things in the house, for example. You’re always saying how pressured you feel.’
I’ve asked him to help out every once in a while; it’s not quite the same thing. I fish out some errant cutlery from the bottom of the sink, wincing slightly at the words in my head. But I do need to say something.
‘Sorry… I’m just a bit frustrated. No, I’m angry. Can you imagine how I felt today having Hilary hand me my letter, knowing full well what was inside? She couldn’t decide whether to be sympathetic or smug, but you know how Hilary can be, so I was left feeling utterly stupid. I bet she laughed all the way home.’
‘I don’t suppose she did,’ replies Hugh, looking contrite. ‘But I am sorry, Alys. I can’t apologise any more than I am doing. Eric is on holiday and so no one told me the letter was going out today. I didn’t find out until after you’d gone home.’
I’m studying him as he speaks and his expression doesn’t change. Hangdog, it’s called, and Hugh wears it well. A burst of music sounds from upstairs reminding me why we started having this conversation in the first place.
‘Well I’m certainly not going to let Esme lose out because of it. This could be a perfect opportunity for her to learn to drive. And have a little car.’
‘I still think we need to think about it,’ replies Hugh. ‘It’s a big step for her.’
‘Hugh… Esme isn’t a child anymore, it’s about time she started taking big steps.’ I try to soften my expression. ‘We have to let her, Hugh. It’s time for her to grow…’
His head drops. ‘I know but…’ He holds out a hand, which I take despite the soap bubbles on mine. ‘She’s still my little girl, Alys… It was bad enough when s. . .
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