SURPRISE FOR MY WIFE
As I pushed open the front door, I dumped a mound of flowers from the work do onto the hall table, kicked off my wretched heels, and slipped into my slippers. Frankly, wellies might have been more suitable.
There was water all over the floor, more than on the stairs. From the depths of the flat came the muffled howl of the cat. There were clatters, grumbles, and something was actually smoking.
“Oliver, what’s happened?!”
He appeared a few seconds later. In his pants, barefoot, streaked black with soot, face scratched and singed, sporting a glorious shiner. His head was wrapped in a towel, turban-style.
“Elizabeth, youre back already? I didn’t expect you so soon. I thought the office party, you being the boss, would go on till the last guest left.”
Exhaling heavily, I slumped onto the pouffe and ordered, “Out with it, you villain. What have you done this time?”
“Erm…my darling,” stammered a very sheepish Oliver, “try not to worry…”
“I was worried,” I cut him off, “when the mob tried it on in the nineties. I was worried during the crash, worried during crises. After all that, nothing rattles me now. Just tell me whats happened in the house?”
“Well…”
“Short version, please!”
“All right! I was trying to do something special for you. Thought Id surprise you, you know, make the place nice, do the washing, cook a lovely dinner. Took the day off, loaded the washing machine, went to the marketwell, actually, went to the market first, bought some beef, and then the washer started leaking.”
“Beef?” I clarified.
“No, not beef. The washing machine. But not straight away. Id put the beef in the oven, started tidying up, then suddenly, the cat…”
“Is he alive?”
“Of course,” Oliver said, sounding wounded. “Just a bit damp. See, when I set the washer going, the cat was *not* inside, I swear! Then he was. Dont ask me how.”
“How does a cat get into a locked washing machine?!”
He shook his head, bewildered. “Ive no idea. Must have oozed in somehow.”
I closed my eyes and pressed on, “Carry on. This just gets better. Only, show me the cat first. I want proof.”
“Darling, I can’t. Youll have to come to him.”
“I hope he still has all his paws?”
Wiping his scratched face, Oliver grumbled, “Oh yes! Just, well, temporarily immobilisedfor his own safety.”
“Well deal with that later. What happened next?”
“While the cat wasum, bathing, I caught a whiff of burning. Dashed to the kitchen, opened the oven, burnt my fingersmeats on fireso I chucked on some oil. Didnt know itd burst into flames! My hair singed, smoke everywhere, I started trying to put it out. Then the cat started howling. Ran to the washer, saw his eyes at the window, realised he was not, shall we say, at his most comfortable. Tried to turn it off, it wouldntcats screaming, ovens burning. Grabbed a crowbar. Well, the washer burst and water went everywhere, but the cat broke free.
“While I was dousing the cooker, that rascal was racing round, howling, shattered two vases, soiled the rug, tore down the curtains, scratched up the wallpaper, smashed the prosecco from the table… The neighbours downstairs were banging on the pipesthreatened to castratehim, I assume? Though, we did that two years ago, unless they meant me? Anyway, its fine, honestly. Dont worry.”
Tears streaming from laughter, I got up, edged past Oliver and walked into the flat. The chaos lived up to Olivers description. Plus a dozen extra touches that would have chilled a less seasoned woman.
Not me though. Twenty years running a large firm have hammered a strong immunity to panic and despair into me. Thank heavens there were no grandchildren visiting, and both husband and cat survived, despite Olivers best efforts.
Mind you, the cat was tied to the radiatorspread-eagled, all four legs bound, face wrapped in an old scarf. But alive, uncharred, so thats something. Oliver hurried to explain:
“See, love, he wouldnt stay by the radiator! I was worried hed never dry off and couldnt wring him out, he wouldnt let me. So, had to tie him up, you know? And muffled him so hed stop yowling. Neighbours have rung the doorbell ten times, threatened fire brigade and policemaybe even a witch to curse us.”
I untied the cat, soothed him with what was left of Olivers hair towel and freed his poor face.
“You bugger, Oliver. He could have suffocated! Not that anything fazes this cat now, after being put through the spin cycle. Nor me, for that matter.”
I flopped onto the sofa, cat in arms, and shot Oliver a significant look.
“Well?”
“What do you mean?” Oliver wilted. “Hang myself now, or would you rather do it?”
“Ohhh,” I sighed. “And todays Mothering Sunday.”
Beaming, he dashed next door, returned with a mysterious grin, hands behind his back. Then, dropping to one knee, he declared solemnly:
“Elizabeth, my sunshine. Thirty years together, and you still amaze me. Youre the most beautiful, enigmatic, elegant, patient, kind and loving wife, mother and grandmother. Happy Mothering Sunday, may you always stay just as you are!”
And then
Pulling his hands out, he gave me a little box with a gold ring and a slightly battered bouquet of roses. Embarrassed, he explained:
“The flowers were lovely, honestly. Just didnt survive their encounter with an angry cat. Dont be cross with me. Or him. It really wasnt his fault. I only wanted to do something nice for you.”
Cradling his head in my lap, I sniffed the roses and smiled.
“Amazingthey even still smell. And not of smoke, either. No more experiments, Oliver, please? Flowers are enough. The house cant take another celebration like this. Nor can the neighbours.”
“I just thought,” he mumbled, “at work they give you stylish gifts, fancy bouquets, so I wanted to do something a bit different. With, you know, a spark. Something memorable…”
“And you managed it, you great lump,” I grinned. “Even with the spark. Doesnt matter what happens at work. Its the thought and care that count.”
“Come on then, my two devastated darlings,” I said, herding Oliver and the cat. “Time to start the tidy-up and go apologize to the neighbours. Otherwise I really think theyll summon that witch. And she probably has a husband who, I bet, once tried to surprise her too. Who knows what disasters shes seen after that…”
