Page 5 of The Wife
‘Poor Nick,’ I add. ‘There are a few winter bugs going around. Fingers crossed he feels better for your trip.’ Selfishly I worry that they’ll be ill and won’t be able to make it to the anniversary party.
‘I’ll bring him round some of my soup,’ Celia offers. ‘That’ll perk him up.’
‘Thank you.’ Madeline gives her a grateful smile, although as she’s a caterer, the one thing Nick is never short of is good food.
‘So, how many RSVPs for the party have you had so far?’ Celia asks me, changing the subject.
‘Almost fifty yesses. I can’t believe so many people are coming.’ I feel a brief flutter of anxiety. ‘You don’t think it might all be too much, do you? The party I mean?’
‘Too much?’ Celia and Madeline give me a questioning look.
‘Yes, I mean, do you think people will think it’s over the top? Most couples do something for their silver or golden wedding anniversaries, but ten years… is it naff?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Celia says. ‘Everyone loves a party. And your wedding was such a wonderful day, why wouldn’t you want to recreate it?’
I think back to that day and try to remember it with happiness, but all I can truly recall is that before our wedding vows, I fainted. And when I came to, everything felt slightly… off. It’s haunted me ever since. If I’m honest, I think I wanted to organise this anniversary party to exorcise the past. To give myself the wedding I never really had the first time around. Since then, I haven’t quite been able to shake the feeling of sadness. Of longing for a missed milestone. I’d dreamed of an idyllic wedding day where every second would be a moment to cherish. A perfect day to start a perfect marriage with the perfect man. My heart hurts that I’ll never have that memory. That it’s spoiled.
‘Are you okay, Zoe?’ Madeline puts a hand on my arm. ‘You look a bit down.’
‘I’m fine.’ I give her a bright smile. But coming back here and talking about my wedding day has begun to unsettle me. I’m getting the oddest feeling that there’s something from that time I’m not quite remembering right.
As I’m picking at the edges of that buried memory, the waitress comes over with a tray of coffees and mini-desserts that look like pieces of art.
‘Here we are, ladies. Hope you’ve got plenty of room for these.’
I give myself a shake and resolve to put away my anxieties for now. To enjoy the rest of the day. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed and emotional, that’s all. I need to focus on my family and on the fact that I’m celebrating a happy marriage. So what if my wedding day didn’t go exactly to plan? Everything turned out great in the end, and that’s what matters. And, anyway, this anniversary party will more than make up for it. I’m sure it will.
Three
NOW
A Christmas music mix competes with the roar of the hairdryers and the raucous chatter of customers and staff. The atmosphere in the salon is one of excitement tinged with pre-holiday mania.
‘I’m totally sick of Christmas already and we’ve still got three weeks to go.’ Becky tosses her mane of red curls over her shoulder and rolls her eyes dramatically.
‘Calm down, Scrooge,’ I tease as we leave the salon floor and head to the small staffroom at the back to wolf down a quick sandwich in between clients. Becky’s one of my best friends, although we’re total opposites; we’ve worked at Waves together for over a decade. She lives with her long-term boyfriend Sam and neither of them want kids – they love their freedom too much and spend all their spare time going out to gigs and travelling the world. They’re like a couple of perpetual teenagers. Sometimes I wonder how they can live like that, and other times I envy the pants off them.
She continues her tirade. ‘The annoying songs we’ve all heard a thousand times before, the insane lights, the tacky decorations, it all gives me such a stress headache.’ She puts her fingers to her forehead. ‘I mean, I like Christmas as much as the next person, I really do, but why does it have to start so early every year? Jennifer had this place decked out in November. That’s a whole month’s worth of crazy. Of Slade and The Pogues, Band Aid and Chris flipping Rea.’
‘You have to admit, she did a good job though.’ Jennifer has really gone to town with the salon decorations this year, having decided on a tasteful rustic theme. There are twinkling white lights, wooden decorations, gingerbread stars, several wicker reindeer and a nine-foot tree in the window which has been liberally sprayed with fake frost.
‘It’s like working in Lapland,’ Becky grumbles, taking her lunchbox out of the fridge. ‘Which basically makes us elves. You watch, next year she’ll issue us with pointy hats and stripy knee-high socks.’
‘You’re such a drama queen, Becky. I think your blood sugar might be low. Eat your sandwich.’
She gives me the middle finger before plonking herself down on the worn leather sofa. ‘Sorry, just tired today. We were out late last night.’
My phone rings and I’m so hungry I want to ignore it, but it’s my sister-in-law. ‘Hang on a sec, Becky, I better take this.’ I settle myself at the table on one of the wooden dining chairs. ‘Hi, Madeline.’
‘Hello, Zoe. Are you free to talk for a minute?’ She sounds serious.
‘Yeah, sure, I’m on my lunch break so fire away.’ I gaze distractedly through the window at the tiny yard at the back of the salon. It’s bare of any foliage at this time of year. Just a few dead-looking vines twisting up a trellis on the brick wall.
Madeline clears her throat. ‘Okay, well it’s just to say that we won’t need you to have Beth and Freya this weekend after all.’
I sit up straighter, suddenly giving my full attention to the conversation. ‘What happened? Did you cancel your London trip? Is everything okay? Nick didn’t come down with that bug, did he?’
She hesitates. ‘No, we’re still going to London. Kim’s going to have the girls for me instead.’
