Surprise Me(37)

I will be frank when the time comes, I promise myself. I’ll be Dutch. I’ll even say ‘condom’. Just not today.

‘All done!’ Dan comes striding into the kitchen, exactly like someone who just went on Dragon’s Den and won a million pounds’ investment. ‘Your turn.’

I head to the sitting room, to find Karen sitting on a high-backed chair in the middle of the room, holding a pen and an A4 writing pad.

‘Hello, Sylvie,’ she says in formal, pleasant tones. ‘And welcome. Begin whenever you’re ready.’

I’m already prickling. Welcome to my own sitting room? And, by the way, what’s she writing? I haven’t even started yet.

‘Whenever you’re ready,’ repeats Karen, and I hastily marshal my thoughts.

‘Right,’ I begin. ‘Well, I’m planning to whisk Dan off for a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime treat. We’re seeing our favourite comedian, Tim Wender, in a special lunchtime performance at the Barbican Comedy Festival. Lunch and wine are included.’

I sound like a competition from daytime TV, I realize. Next I’ll be promising him five hundred pounds’ spending money in London’s exclusive West End.

‘Very nice,’ says Karen, in the same pleasant, ambivalent tone. ‘Is that it?’

Is that it? I’m about to retort ‘Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get those tickets?’ but that might not help my case. (And actually, it was Clarissa who pulled the strings, because she used to work at the Barbican.) ‘Yes. That’s it,’ I say.

‘All right. I’ll let you know my thoughts presently.’ She smiles a dismissal and I head back out into the hall, feeling all cross and bothered. This is ridiculous.

Dan comes out of the kitchen, crunching a carrot stick. ‘How did it go?’

I shrug. ‘Fine.’

‘Great!’ He gives me his ebullient smile again, just as the door opens. Karen emerges and looks from me to Dan, her face serious.

‘I have come to my decision.’ She pauses momentously, exactly like a judge on TV. ‘And today … you will be carrying out Dan’s plan. I’m sorry, Sylvie,’ she adds to me, ‘but Dan’s plan just had that extra something.’

Dan’s plan did?

Dan’s plan did?

I can’t believe it. In fact, I don’t believe it. Mine had the extra something. But, just like a TV contestant, I manage to squash my real feelings beneath a vivacious smile.

‘Well done!’ I kiss Dan. ‘I’m sure you deserve it.’

‘I wish we could both have won,’ he says generously.

‘You did really well, Sylvie,’ says Karen kindly. ‘But Dan just had that extra attention to detail.’

‘Of course!’ My smile becomes even brighter. ‘Well, I can’t wait to see it all in action!’

No pressure. But I have set the bar preeeeetty high.

‘Sylvie surprised me with breakfast this morning,’ Dan is telling Karen. ‘So really it’s only fair that I should surprise her with lunch.’

‘Hey, you haven’t mentioned my other surprise,’ I say in sudden realization. Dan was in the kitchen just now. He saw the makeover. So why hasn’t he exclaimed over it?

‘What other surprise?’

‘The kitchen …?’ I prompt, but Dan still looks blank. ‘The kitchen!’ I snap. ‘Kitchen!’

‘Sorry, was I supposed to find something in the kitchen?’ Dan seems bewildered.

I take a deep breath in and a deep breath out.

‘The curtains?’ I say calmly.

I see a look of panic flash through Dan’s eyes. ‘Of course,’ he says quickly. ‘The curtains. I was just going to mention them.’

‘What else?’ I grasp his arm tightly, so he can’t move. ‘Tell me what else I did in there.’

Dan gulps. ‘The … uh … cupboards?’

‘No.’

‘Table … er … tablecloth?’

‘Lucky guess.’ I glare at him. ‘You didn’t notice any of it, did you?’

‘Let me have another look,’ pleads Dan. ‘I was distracted by this lunch business.’

‘OK.’ I follow him into the kitchen, where I have to say, my makeover looks amazing. How could he not have noticed it?

‘Wow!’ he duly exclaims. ‘Those curtains are great! And the tablecloth …’

‘What else?’ I press him relentlessly. ‘What else is different?’

‘Um …’ Dan’s eyes are darting around, baffled. ‘This!’ He suddenly seizes a Nigella cookbook lying on the table. ‘This is new.’

Tessa breaks into laughter. ‘That’s not new, Daddy!’

‘It’s the candlesticks,’ I tell him. ‘The candlesticks.’

‘Of course!’ Dan’s eyes focus on them, and I can tell he’s scrabbling for something to say. ‘Absolutely! I should’ve … They’re so bright!’

‘They’re a pop of colour,’ I explain.

‘Definitely,’ Dan says uncertainly, as though he’s not quite sure what ‘pop of colour’ means but doesn’t dare ask.

‘Anyway, I just thought I’d brighten the place up a bit. I thought you’d like it …’ I allow a slightly martyred tone to creep into my voice.