Five Winters(33)

It actually sounded like heaven. With Grace and the girls gone, it would be like the old days round at Mark’s flat—just me, Rosie, and Mark. Though without the sounds of the crowd from the football ground next door.

“Of course that’s fine. It will be good for you to get her opinion.”

“I hope she’ll like what I’ve done.”

“Of course she will. You made a big success of the last place, after all. You know what you’re doing.”

“I do seem to, don’t I? It was always a risk, quitting teaching. But thanks to Grace, it was a considered risk. You have to go for your dreams, don’t you?”

What I really felt like doing was falling asleep like the girls. To fill the distance between Thursford and home with oblivion. Clearly it was not to be. Jaimie wanted to talk, which was fair enough, since he was the driver. But I wished he didn’t want to talk about this. It was depressing. My dream had always been to be a veterinary nurse. In fact, my role at Dalston Vets had pretty much been my dream job. Perhaps it was time to ring round all the local veterinary surgeries again to see if any vacancies had come up.

“Thanks for coming along today,” Jaimie said. “It meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. I hope you know that.”

I smiled, shoving aside my miserable thoughts. “Thank you. You mean a lot to me too.”

That evening, Jaimie presented me with an early Christmas gift in a sparkly silver bag.

“Here,” he said. “I got you this.”

“I can’t open this,” I said. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“I’ve bought you something else for Christmas. This is just a little something extra.”

“You spoil me.”

He shrugged. “You deserve to be spoiled. Go on, open it.”

Intrigued, I opened the package. Inside it was a dress—a sophisticated-looking black one. And, in a smaller packet, a bright red lipstick.

“They’re lovely,” I said, baffled.

“I thought you could wear them tomorrow.”

I frowned. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes. You’re not dog walking, are you? And we’re going out for a meal later on. Grace always looks so glamorous, doesn’t she? I thought you’d like to too. Go on, try it on.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, why not?”

I was still wearing the jeans and jumper I’d been wearing all day. If the girls hadn’t used up all the hot water for their baths, I’d have been in my pyjamas and dressing gown after a good old soak myself. I was feeling a bit sleepy after our day out and not in the mood to put on glamorous clothes. But, of course, I went upstairs to get changed. It would have been churlish not to. I had to wriggle a bit to get the dress over my head—it was quite tight fitting—but as I pulled it down over my hips, I knew that was the way it was supposed to be.

I stood in front of the mirror, gazing at my reflection. I’d lost a few pounds since moving to Ely, maybe in part due to the vegetarian diet. Anyway, for whatever reason, there were fewer bulges for the tight-fitting jersey material to emphasise, and I suspected Jaimie would approve. But did he really mean for me to wear it all day the next day? Not just for our meal out?

Jaimie joined me at the mirror. “You look fabulous,” he said. “Like the woman I met at the wedding reception last Christmas.”

I frowned, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Is that who you want me to be?” I asked. “Do I disappoint you?”

“Of course not!” He turned me round to face him, planting a kiss on my lips. “I just think you look even more gorgeous than ever when you make a bit of an effort. Now, let’s get this off, shall we?”

“I only just put it on.”

“So?” he said, kissing me again.





12


I wore the dress the next day, as Jaimie had requested. And the lipstick. I even painted my nails red to match. The girls loved it and asked me to paint their nails too.

“What’s this colour called, Beth?” Olivia asked.

I tilted the bottle of nail polish to take a look. “Cherry Kisses.”

“Strawberry Kisses would be better,” Emily said. “I don’t like cherries.”

“No,” agreed Olivia. “They’re yucky.”

“It’s a nice red, though, don’t you think?” I said. “Well, I hope you do, because it’s the only colour I’ve got.”

“It’s okay,” said Emily, holding out her hand.

“Me first!” said Olivia, trying to barge her sister away.

“I tell you what, I’ll do one of Emily’s hands, and then I’ll do one of yours, Olivia.”

“But we need both our hands done,” protested Olivia.

I pretended to be surprised. “Do you? Are you sure?”

“Yes, silly.”

“Okay, then. Both hands it is.”

Then, when I was painting the nails on her left hand, Olivia smiled cheekily and said, “Poo-poo brown is a good colour for nail varnish.”

She erupted into giggles, watching my face. I wasn’t sure whether I ought to have been rebuking her, especially as I badly wanted to smile.

“Dog Dirt Damson,” suggested Emily, impressing me with her knowledge of fruit.