Friday, 16th February
Today was Judiths work do, and for the first time, I agreed to go with her.
Shed pulled out her black dress from the wardrobe, the one she liked best because it fit her just sosmart but not funereal. I watched as she hung it on the door, checked herself in the mirror, and hung it back up again. Its odd how a dress can change the way someone stands; with it on, she always looked that little bit taller.
Martin, she called through to the kitchen, are you actually coming with me?
Forty-two years old, bit of a stubble that I never seem to get rid ofnot quite artistic chaos, as I sometimes joke, but close enough. Mug of tea in hand, I leant against the doorframe, eyeing dress and wife interchangeably.
Is it mandatory? I asked.
Of course not. I just thought Id ask.
Truth is, shed asked weeks ago, when the office party was first mentioned. Come along, well take a cab, get a decent meal, meet my lot properly for once. I usually grumble about these thingsbut she really wanted me to make an appearance. So I caved, because in the end it seemed to matter to her.
I asked myself then, and again now: was it a symbol? Theres always one in the office who stares at the ring finger, judges who arrives alone. Maybe she just wanted some company, so she wasnt the only one taking a taxi home in the rain.
Yeah, Ill come, I told her. Was just double checking.
She looked relieved and dug out her mums pearl earrings, brushing her hairluckily, a good hair day. These things matter, I suppose.
What time did you book the taxi? I called from the kitchen.
Six forty-five.
Right you are.
At six forty sharp, I was waiting in the hall in my navy blazer, dusted off from that nephews wedding a few years ago. Shoulders a bit boxy on me, but Judith didnt say a word. The point was, Id made the effort.
We rode in silence. It was grey outside; February in Oxford always feels like winter has overstayed its visit. I flicked through my phone, half-absorbed in nothing.
She probably thought about two weeks ago, when shed rung me from her office: The work partys on the twelfthwill you come? Short pause. Dont have to. But Id like you to. Id just said Alright, and that was that. No drama, just alright.
She reminded me twice about the date, and I never forgot. And tonight, I was in the hallway, ready before she was.
Itll only be three, four hours, she said.
Fine by me.
The people are all rightdont worry.
Im not worried.
Martin, just
I hear you.
Our driver was a lad in headphones, one bud in, the other dangling. Didnt bother us, which I was grateful for. Some drivers chat your ear offtonight I didnt have the energy.
Did you eat before we left? Judith asked.
Had a sandwich.
A sandwich, hours before a proper dinner.
I was hungry.
Fair enough.
I put my phone away and just gazed out the window. When youve been together fourteen years, you know exactly how the other person sits in a taxi, and what they look at. Not exactly out at the road; somewhere between the glass and their own thoughts.
Therell be games, then? I asked.
Probably. I never join in.
Good plan.
You dont have to.
I wasnt going to.
The restaurant was called The Eden. Funnily enough, it sat on top of a shopping centre, so paradise above Poundland, I suppose. But the food was dependable, the room was grand, and there was a little stage for speeches, long tables with white cloths and miniature Christmas trees here and there, even though Decembers been and gone.
We shuffled up the stairs alongside Judiths colleaguesthere was Nicholas, quiet chap from her department, holding hands with his ginger wife whose name I can never catch.
Work lot? I asked quietly.
Nicholashes a good one. Never makes a fuss.
The room smelled of roast meats and expensive perfume: that blend you only find at weddings or office Christmas parties. Social limbo, really.
Judith spotted Lorna Morris from accountsshe showed up with her husband, tall, silent, straight off a tax return. Ian from IT gently dragging his wife alongthey clearly had very different ideas about a fun evening. Their boss, Ms Vera Griffiths, was at the door, greeting everyone like it was her birthday.
Judith! With your husbandfantastic! She stretched a hand my way. Martin? Ive heard about you.
Nothing criminal, I hope? I grinned.
Of course not! Vera laughed.
It was going fine so far. Judith sat beside her old friend, Olivia Simmons, and I ended up across from her husband Davea builder, loud in the best way, talks to anyone.
First time Ive seen you, mate! Dave boomed at me before wed even sat. Judith always came alone.
She never asked me before, I replied.
Lucky she did this time! Dave. He shook my hand firmly.
Martin.
So what do you do, Martin?
I design interiorsmostly flats, bit of commercial work now and again.
Thats quality stuff! he enthused. Weve just started a job, client wants something uniquehasnt a clue what, mind you.
Happens all the time, I said.
So what do you do with people like that?
Ask questions. Not about style, but how they want to live. That usually shows what the space should be.
He looked at me with fresh respect. And does it always work?
Nearly always. Sometimes people dont actually know how they want to live. Thats trickier.
He laughed. It broke the ice. Soon photos were out and ideas flying. Judith nudged closer to Olivia.
Good crowd tonight, Olivia whispered.
So far, said Judith.
Lorna already asked about your husband. I told herhere he is, no need to panic.
Judith grinned. When did she ask?
While you were handing in your coat.
Quick off the mark.
She is. Did you see her dress? Red, plunging neckline. Bit much for a work do.
Her choice.
Just observing, not judging.
Thats classic Oliviaeye for detail, but shares only with those who wont join the gossip mill.
Drinks came round. The starters were decentsalads, cold cuts, a tartlet or two. Judith ate self-consciously; for her, work dos are an extension of the job, not relaxation.
At the other table, Vera Griffiths was in full swing with a new ladAnthony, I think. He nodded politely but his eyes were elsewhere. I sympathised.
So, your quarterly review? Olivia asked Judith.
Submitted Friday. Came back cleanno notes.
Lucky! Vera found three in mine. Checked aftertwo were actually me, but one was hers.
Did you call her on it?
Me? Of course not! Olivia snorted.
Judith nodded. She gets it.
An hour or so in, the hired host appearedfull of beans, cheesy smile, microphone ready. Games began. Judith did oneguess the colleague from their childhood photo. She got three, and won a little scented candle set.
Im a proper yogi now, she winked at Olivia.
You? Meditate?
Why not?
I kept out of the gamesas Judith expected. Not my thing at all, but I wasnt bored. Dave and I were joined by Lornas husband, and soon we were off comparing job disasters while Judith watched from across the table. I had juice in my glassdont really drink anymore. One day I stopped, and that was that.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Judith was finally relaxing.
At nine, dinner properit was steak, chicken, and something mushroomy. She went for the chicken. From the other table came an impromptu chorusa tune from the ’80s, I think. The host called a break, so there was a happy racket everywhere.
Judith popped up to use the loo, but in scanning the room, she caught me over by a far wallspeaking to a young woman. She looked maybe twenty-five, new to the team. Dark hair, sparkly dress, striking features. She leaned in as we talked, and I was smiling.
A real smile, one Judith rarely sees from me at home.
She watched a second, then stepped away.
In the ladies, it was quiet, reflective. Judith checked her lookblack dress, pearls, just right. She felt ordinary but passable.
A fellow guest, not from our event, smiled as she spruced up at the mirror. Nice dress, she said.
Thank you.
Black always works.
She left. Judith stared at herself for a moment.
She suddenly wanted to be home, to strip off the fancy clothes, rub off her make-up, and pull the duvet up with the cat at her feet.
She nearly booked a cab, but put her phone away at the last second.
Splashing cold water on her neck, she talked herself out of it: It was only a chat, nothing more. Bright girl, yes, but so what? I talk to people. Besides, all I did was smile. That shouldnt count as a crime.
And yet, that smile.
She shelved the thought, that trick she rarely usespack it away, save it for later, maybe never. Not now.
She straightened her pearls, and went back in.
I was by my seat, alone now. Sparkly Dress was elsewhere.
Whered you go? I asked.
Ladies.
Right.
Dessert followed: chocolate cake, layered and rich. Judith and Olivia started discussing Turkey for half-termDave wanted water parks, Olivia just wanted a beach. Are you two planning to get away this year? Olivia asked gently.
Havent planned. Maybewell see.
Dont wait too long, or it’ll just not happen.
I suppose Ill bring it up.
I ate my cake in silence; Dave regaled me with car stories I half-followed, half ignored.
I studied Judith across the table. This could be any old night, just in a fancier place. People, as always, dancing or trying to.
The host cranked up the music: Alright everyone, dance floors open!
Judith doesnt dance at work functions. Tradition. So we watchedLorna dragging her accountant onto the floor, Ian from IT giving it a go, God bless him.
Dance with me? I said suddenly.
She stared. You never
Just once.
Why now?
Why not? The songs good.
She checked me over, like I was a piece of furniture for sale. Alright then.
It was a slow one. I rested my hand on her backmuscle memoryand we swayed.
Good evening, I murmured in her ear. You were right.
Always am.
Thats true.
Over her shoulder, Judith spotted Sparkly Dress with a young guyher mate from the new department. They laughed, carefree. Judith let her attention drift.
It’s only cold outside, I muttered.
February.
Springs around the corner.
Not long now.
You like spring?
She pulled back to look at me. You know I do.
Just wanted to hear you say it.
We fell back into a comfortable hush.
At eleven, coats were reclaimed. We said our farewellsVera was on her fourth glass, hugging everyone in sight. Judith and Olivia promised to catch up, talk holidays. I swapped numbers with Dave (he had a job going in Summertownmight lead to work). Nicholas and his wife waved from the exit.
I held Judiths coat as always, no words needed. Its these things you do, without thinking, that mean something.
Outside, bitter cold. Winter holding Oxford in an iron grip.
Cab?
Yeah, five minutes.
We waited by the door. Colleagues traipsed past, a few waves.
Listen, I said. That girl I was talking to earlierby the wallyou saw?
A beat.
I saw.
She was asking about redesigning her flatwanted recommendations. I gave her my card.
Understood.
You dont mind?
Its fine.
I studied her. Lamplight painted half her face golden.
Judith.
Yes?
Youre sure?
She pulled up her collar. Taxi headlights arrived in the dark.
Im sure. Its fine.
Ride home was quiet. The driver, older, didnt turn on the radiosmelled of pine air freshener. Oxford after midnight is a different world: lamp-lit, clear, almost beautiful, with pockets of snow untouched on the verges.
Dave seems solid, I offered.
He is.
Hes got that job in Summertown. If it pans out, good bit of work.
That’s good then.
Client wants Scandinavian. Told Dave it means different things to different peoplebest to suss out exactly what the fellow wants.
And?
He laughedsaid, Ill leave that to you.
Judith smiled, ever so slightly.
So hes already counting on you?
Maybe. Well see. You glad we went tonight?
She didnt answer immediately. Lights and streets drifted by.
Yes, she said at last.
Part of the truth, anyway.
Home: warmth, and the catCharliebounding out to greet us, classic pet negotiation: rubs against Judith first, then me, in case I was jealous.
She hung up her coat, slipped off her shoes.
Want some tea? I asked.
Maybe not, but go on then.
I set to making it anyway.
Judith stood in the hallway, watching her reflection with that black dress and pearl earringsher mums advice always echoing, Go out looking your best, for yourself more than anyone. Not that Judith always believed it, but tonight shed picked the pearls, and it felt right.
Charlie hovered nearby, eyes wide, as though sensing a change in the air.
Alls well, Charlie, she told him.
He blinked, satisfied.
She padded to the bedroom, sitting on the bed to remove her shoessensible ones, thankfully. She placed them neatly aside.
I brought the tea in: mint, saccharine just how she likes it, habit learned over the years. Fourteen years of shared cups and quiet evenings.
You tired? I asked.
A bit.
Shoes alright?
Fine. Good shoes.
Nod from me. I wrapped my hands around my tea. She watched me in silence, absorbing the years, the familiarnavy blazer, stubble, the routines that make up a marriage.
Only that rare smile by the wallthat Judith hadnt seen in a long time.
Martin, she started.
Hmm?
When was the last time you genuinely looked forward to going somewhere with me?
He paused long, searching for the right answer.
You mean properly pleasednot just going along with it?
Yes. Not dutiful. Honestly glad.
He looked away, thinking. New Years at the Robsons placewas grand.
That was ages ago.
Doesnt have an expiry date.
Im not counting. Im just asking.
He looked at her properlyso rare, that undivided attention.
What is this about, Judith?
Nothings happened.
Its not about that girl, is it?
No.
Certain?
Martin, I swear. Its not her.
Then what?
She sipped her tea: minty, sweet. All the right things.
Its nothing really. Just wanted to know.
He was quiet for a moment, then:
Did you look at yourself tonight? In that dress? You looked brilliantI meant to say at home but, well, I forgot.
Judiths eyes searched mine.
You forgot.
Just slipped my mind. But you did look beautiful.
Charlie leapt onto the bed, circled, then plonked himself by our feet, a hefty purring heat.
Thank you, Judith murmured.
Youre welcome.
She finished her tea, set the cup down. February, still grim outside, held firm. Life went onshopping, work, home, all waiting.
She thought about the girl with the sparkly dress and my smile. Was it jealousy? Or something less simple? Was she enough? Not a thought shed had before, perhapsbut tonight, it stuck.
She didnt distrust me. She just wasnt sure what to do about that ache inside, the one that flared up by the wall and lingered after.
It was about herself, really. The black dress, the pearls, the wanting to be seen and remembered.
Martin, she said quietly.
Hmm?
Did you really forget to say it? Or just think I wouldnt care?
Pause.
Hand on heartI thought it, meant to say it while getting our coats. Then Nicholas popped up, your boss waved, everything else took over.
What for?
I dont knowjust the way life rushes at you.
And?
And nothing. Thats all. Just how it is.
She gazed at me in the half-light, curtains drawn, street lamp leaking in.
Are we happy? she asked.
He hesitated.
Im content, Jude. Its steady. Reliable. Not fireworks every day, no disasters either. Surely thats enough?
She nodded. I suppose so.
But sometimes I wish youd be the one who wanted to go. Who noticed first. Who said something nice without a prompt.
I did tonight.
Tonight, yes.
Judith, you want me to tell you every day you look good?
No. Just now and then, when you mean it.
Another pause.
Alright, I agreed. When I mean it, youll know.
She didnt say any more. Charlie shuffled, purring steadily at our feet. Light passed over the ceiling as a car cruised by.
Judith lay down. I switched off the lamp.
In the dark, I felt her thoughts drift. Not about the girl, not about that one smile, but about the choice to invite meto not be alone.
And I went. And I noticed. Andalbeit clumsilyI said she looked beautiful.
Maybe that wasnt everything. But tonight, it was enough.
She drifted off to sleep.
The dress hung on the wardrobe door, waiting for its next outing. And I lay next to her, reminded: Sometimes its being there that matters, in ways you dont realise until the end of the night.
