Ellie wasn’t sure whether her daughter meant what she said. She wasn’t one to compliment anyone about anything, with two exceptions: her husband and her father. Ellie wasn’t very keen on either of them. She just smiled weakly and said: ‘Best in show, I trust.’

‘Sorry?’

 

Ellie held up a hand. ‘Forget it… old joke. I can’t explain. I don’t have that many years left.’

Her daughter shrugged. ‘OK.’ Ellie moved back as she stepped inside and pushed the front door closed. ‘So, are you OK?’

 

‘Thank you. I’m well,’ said Ellie as she moved aside to let the young woman pass. She collided with a small table littered with family photos and realised she was a little drunk. Because she was lying, she breathed in sharply to compose herself. In the absence of food, the wine was taking its toll. It was also the only way she could deal with what lay ahead.

 

‘Good. And you’re looking forward to the party?’

Ellie continued to lie. ‘Of course I am, dear. Why wouldn’t I?’ She moved further down the hallway. She needed a little space and was feeling queasy, and she was all too aware of her daughter’s strong and – it seemed just then – rather sickly perfume.

​

‘It’s so kind of you to have organised everyone, I mean everything, for the party. Too much for you to do, really. I said so, didn’t I?’ She might have said it, but she didn’t mean it.

​

‘Yes, yes, mum. Barry’s done wonders in the kitchen and the children have helped. So, have Michael and his mob – they’ve organised guests and music. Come on, get a move on. Where’s your coat?’

​

Ellie looked at the young woman. Oh God, there she goes, Ellie thought. It’s all about Barry, the wonderful husband. She didn’t bother to comment about her son’s contribution – or reference to his mob.

​

‘Lucy, it’s really too much of you all,’ she repeated. ‘All this work. I’d have been happy at home.’ She meant it. It was all too much – in fact, it was an irritation.

​

‘On your own, on such a birthday as this? Never. Wouldn’t hear of it. And Barry’s worked so hard. You will try to enjoy it all, won’t you?’

​

Ellie took her coat from the stand. Such a birthday as this? Bloody hell, what does that mean? ‘Of course, dear. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I’m just feeling a little guilty about everyone doing so much. Where are we going?’

​

‘Oh, didn’t I say? The Cock and Bottle. They’ve been very good. We’ve hired the upstairs room, but we’re doing our own food. They took a little persuading about that, but I got my way in the end although we had to pay a huge service charge to compensate.’

​

‘I’m sure you did,’ said Ellie, glancing at her daughter. More likely bullied them into submission, she thought. ‘So why did you do it?’

‘Do what?’

‘Pay them not to serve their own food.’

​

‘Because Barry said he could do better, and we promised them we’d make up for it for drinks. Barry’s so good in the kitchen and has done a magnificent spread. Much better than they could do.’

​

‘Is that what you told them?’

‘Is what?’

‘That Barry was better than they are at food?’

​

Her daughter paused a moment. ‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact, that’s what I told them.’

‘You’re not big on “how to make friends and influence people” interaction, are you, dear?’

​

Her daughter’s tone was indignant. ‘It’s a complete waste of time. Dad taught me that. And the fact is, Barry is much better.’

​

“Balls to Barry” screamed a voice in Ellie’s head. And her daughter’s father. The opinion of Ellie’s taste buds and digestive system was that Barry wasn’t a wonderful cook. A little of Upper Nestling’s pub grub would have been wonderful.

​

Oh well, she mused, love lies in the beholder’s eye – and love is blind, so they say. She was struggling with her coat. The sleeves didn’t appear to have a hole she could put her arm through.

​

‘Here mum, let me help.’ Lucy moved behind her and lined up the coat sleeves with her mother’s upturned arms. Eventually, Ellie could feel an opening at the top of each sleeve, allowing her hands to lead her arms towards the cuffs.

​

‘Thank you, dear.’ As she straightened the coat and reached for her handbag, she wondered if she could get through the evening, if she could keep calm and not imagine herself killing Barry in a large slow cooker or plotting to kill her husband in a way that lasted several days. Perhaps one big pot and both at once? Would she scream loudly when people told her how great she looked for her years? She would likely viciously attack whoever first suggested that no one would guess she was 60, or that this was the start of the best time of her life.

​

Suddenly, she remembered she hadn’t been to the cash machine. ‘Will I need money?’ she asked.

Lucy looked a little puzzled. ‘What for?’ she asked.

Ellie shrugged. ‘I don’t know exactly, but what about paying for drinks, or do I need a taxi home?’

‘Of course not, silly woman,’ said Lucy, holding open the door so Ellie could pass by into the cold evening.

​

‘Everything’s sorted, including your ride home. What could you need cash for tonight?’

Drugs, she thought. I may well need to buy drugs.

​

In the car, heading towards the neighbouring village of Upper Nestling, Lucy asked what Ellie had been up to all day.

​

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing. In fact, I enjoyed a day on my own. No television, no phones, no-one.’

‘But it was your birthday.’

​

‘Yes dear, that’s why I was on my own. I’m not keen on birthdays.’

​

Lucy seemed astonished. Silence filled the rest of the journey.

​

‘Here we are,’ said Lucy as she pulled into the car park.

‘Good, I’m looking forward to a glass of wine.’

‘And looking forward to seeing everyone, I hope,’ added her daughter.

​

‘Yes, I’m sure it’ll be fun.’ As she reached for the seat belt release, Ellie was wondering what the best time would be to make her ‘big announcement’. She turned to face her daughter. ‘This might sound a stupid thing to ask, but you haven’t invited your father, have you?’

​

Lucy switched off the engine. ‘No mum, although, in truth, I thought about it. Michael was keen. So was Barry. And the children too. It’s very sad for us all. You had so many happy years together. We all did.’ She stared ahead. ‘It’s very sad for us all,’ she repeated.

​

Ellie opened the car door. ‘No, it’s not sad for all of us. It isn’t sad for me. And don’t presume we had many happy years together. They weren’t. We lived in the same house, but we were never a couple in the genuine sense of being a couple. And if your father is in there,’ she nodded her head toward the pub door, ‘then I am not.’

​

She swung her legs out and stood, a little unsteadily, her high heels wobbling on the rough car park stones. She bent down and looked directly at her daughter in the car. ‘Your brother is in denial.

 

His whole life is in bloody denial. You are too. And it’s not for discussion with Barry and your children either. It’s my business. You might be sad your father and I are no longer together and that, in a way, makes me sad. That you’re sad, that is. But I’m not sad - no bloody way.’

​

‘And dad’s sad,’ retorted Lucy loudly.

‘Too effing right, he’s sad. He’s one of the saddest people that it’s been my misfortune to know for so long.’ Her daughter looked angrily across at her. Ellie calmed herself for a few seconds and continued. ‘This evening is nothing to do with him at all. I don’t care he’s sad – he bloody deserves to be.’

​

‘You’re swearing a lot these days. You never used to swear.’ Lucy was out of the car and stood facing her mother from the other side.

​

‘That’s because I’ve been driven to the point of complete exasperation by everyone around me. Everyone seems to feel sorry for a man who cheated on me - repeatedly.’ She paused.

​

‘You swore in front of the children last week.’

‘I’m sorry for that,’ conceded Ellie. ‘Really sorry about that.’ Then she added: ‘Is he in there?’

‘No, Mum,’ said her daughter, ‘but I think you should be nicer to him.’

​

Lucy’s failure to grasp the basics was frustrating to the point of anger. ‘You say I should be nicer? Nicer!’ Ellie drew breath. ‘Shit! Who hurt who? Tell me, Lucy, because, God, sometimes I think I’m the only person in this family with a grasp of reality. Let’s get this over with.’

​

Lucy stood seething beside the car as she watched her mother walk off. Ungrateful woman, she thought, I go to all this trouble, and that’s her attitude. For a moment, she considered shouting to her mother that she was cancelling the whole evening.

​

Ellie moved quickly away from the car and headed for the pub entrance. ‘Bloody, bloody unbelievable,’ she muttered as she went inside. ‘And such shit. Such a load of complete fucking shit.’

​

She didn’t see the man standing just inside the doorway and almost collided with him. He moved quickly to avoid impact, then stood in front of her and smiled. He was clutching a menu and an empty glass. ‘Good evening. That was close.’

​

Ellie blushed slightly. ‘Good evening. Sorry to rush in like that.’ She brushed a wisp of her hair from her forehead and smiled. ‘And I apologise if you heard my foul language. Although, in my defence, I mumbled it.’

​

‘I heard nothing, madam, I can assure you. And I would never reveal a lady’s secrets.’

Ellie blushed again. ‘Which way is the punishment room, please?’

‘Pardon?’ The man’s smile vanished; he looked slightly bewildered.

​

‘My family has arranged an evening’s torture for me,’ declared Ellie, loud enough for a few people nearby to turn and glance in their direction.

​

The man smiled again as Ellie looked slightly upwards at his face. He was tall and about her age, or was he younger? Difficult to judge, she thought, and then she heard him said: ‘Ah, now I understand, madam. I think you’ll find them all in the function room.’ He pointed to the far end of the bar. ‘Door at the end, go through there, and then turn right up the stairs. You can’t miss it.’

​

‘Unfortunately, you’re right. I thought about it, though.’ Ellie felt a little calmer, smiled at him, and lowered her voice: ‘If you hear screams later, it’s because I’m being tortured. You will come and rescue me, won’t you?’

​

His smile broadened. ‘I’m here for about another hour,’ he said. ‘Will you be screaming before 8.30-ish or later? It’s just that as soon as I’ve finished my meal, I’m taking my friends’ home. I could pop back to listen out for you, though?’

​

Ellie felt herself blushing. ‘You don’t work here, do you?’ She looked down at the glass and the menu in his hand.

‘No, I don’t.’ He shook his head gently.

​

Ellie could feel her cheeks warming. ‘So how did you know where the party was?’ she asked.

​

‘Unfortunately, I’ve been in that room. A wedding many years ago, a christening and two wakes. Absolute torture every time I go up there.’ He looked across to where a group sat chatting nearby. ‘I’ll have to go; they’ll think I’ve forgotten their drinks and food.’ Then he lowered his head nearer to Ellie, moved his gaze over her shoulder and said softly: ‘Try to enjoy it. They probably mean well.’

‘I’ll try,’ Ellie whispered.

​

He stood straight and smiled at her, then glanced quickly over her shoulder and back towards her again. Ellie slowly realised he was warning her that someone was standing behind her. Turning, she smiled at Lucy and then quickly moved aside for her daughter to pass as the man moved away. ‘Shall we go up, dear?’ Ellie asked.

​

​The younger woman glanced at the retreating stranger. ‘Who was that?’

‘No one, dear. Stupidly, I thought he worked here. I’m getting dafter by the day… must be my age.’

​

Lucy led the way, weaving carefully amongst the tables and chairs to the door beyond the bar. Ellie glanced across the busy room at the man waiting to be served at the bar. That’s what a woman needs on her birthday. Smiles and handsome men. Perhaps the pub’s named after him. She giggled to herself.

‘What’s up?’ asked Lucy.

​

‘Oh, nothing really, just a silly thought.’ Her giggle melted into sadness as they climbed the narrow staircase. There was a door with a brightly coloured sign adorned with balloons. Private Party. She could hear people talking in hushed tones on the other side.

 

Lucy dramatically threw open the door and almost dragged the reluctant party guest into the room.

​

Ellie smiled through a ripple of applause and murmurings of ‘Happy Birthday’. Inwardly, she grimaced at the banner hanging across one wall, proclaiming her name and her age. She let her gaze wander from one side of the room to the other. She recognised few people.

​

Lucy, with a firm grasp of her mother’s arm, propelled her into the room where grinning faces quickly surrounded her; she recognised a few, and she thought she knew some from obscure corners of her life. Somewhere below her eye line, a tiny hand grasped and pulled her dress. ‘Oh, hello you two,’ said Ellie, gazing down at two small faces.

​

One of the small faces, her three-year-old grandson Freddie, held up a card. The other small face, Phoebe, his slightly older sister by 15 months, held up a present. ‘Oh, thank you both,’ said Ellie, and she bent down to kiss each of them. ‘I’ll open them in a moment.’

​

‘Well done, children. This way Mum,’ she heard Lucy said, ‘there are people I want to introduce you to.’

Ellie lifted herself straight and looked at her daughter. ‘Introduce me? At my birthday party?’

​

Ellie spied her sister, Megan, standing in the far corner of the room. Megan spotted her too and waved as Ellie quickly moved away from Lucy and across the room. They embraced warmly. ‘Happy birthday, Sis,’ beamed Megan. ‘Can’t believe you’ve hit 60!’

​

‘I think it is only fair to tell you I promised myself I shall dismember anyone who mentions my age. If they then try to flatter me about it, I dismembered them for a second time.’ Ellie exaggerated a manic smile. ‘Just because we’re related doesn’t mean you’re exempt. In fact, for a limited period only, relatives get extras.’

​

Megan reached for her hand. ‘Oh, that sounds wonderful! Extras for the family. I can only imagine what you have in mind for them. Will you accept a grovelling apology from me on this occasion?’

​

‘Well, yes, but reluctantly. And besides, it’s your turn soon,’ Ellie reminded her. ‘Less than two years to go, so don’t be so smug.’ She looked at her younger sister. In a strange way, Ellie envied her. No children, no ties, no responsibilities and, it seemed most of the time, no guilt.

​

Ellie looked around the room. ‘I think the children have invited some of their friends.’ She caught sight of the banner again. ‘And I effing hate that!’ Megan followed her gaze.

​

‘I’m not surprised. It’s hideous, having your age up there like that. It’s almost like shouting “Bring out your dead!”’

​

‘Bloody hell, Megan, it’s not quite that bad,’ Ellie laughed. ‘Is it because they’re proud of me they did that – me being such a wonderful mother, contrite wife and stunningly good-looking babe who looks great for her age?’ Her gaze settled on the banner again. ‘Who did that?’ She pointed at the banner. ‘I bet it’s bloody Barry.’

​

‘What will you do to him?’

‘I don’t know yet. The fun is in the imagination, spending days thinking up a suitably monstrous end for him.’

​

They both laughed, then Megan paused, her face contorting playfully, as if puzzled. ‘Nah, I don’t think it’s a good banner, not with our family. It’s more likely because you are simply 60 – it’s a fact and full stop sort of statement, isn’t it? Besides, when does anyone we’re related to pay us a compliment?’

​

Ellie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Probably no-one ever, apart from Dad over the years.’ She looked around the room. ‘At least there are a few familiar faces. Speaking of which, where’s your man?’

​

Megan shrugged. ‘We weren’t sure if anyone invited him. I wasn’t even sure if they invited me. I hate to be so personal, but your daughter can be both specific and vague in the same sentence. It’s a gift few of us possess – well, to the same degree, anyway.’

‘Sure is. It’s probably what she really got her degree in.’

​

Megan opened her mouth, but nothing came out; she’d caught sight of Lucy and Michael hovering at their mother’s shoulder.

​

‘Mum.’ Ellie heard her daughter’s voice and turned to face them.

‘You really should circulate,’ said Michael with, Ellie detected, a slight tone of annoyance.

​

‘Hello Michael. How are you, dear? Oh, good. Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking.’

​

Michael shuffled on the spot but said nothing.

Ellie filled the pause: ‘I will circulate. I am circulating. I just wanted to start with my little sister.’

​

Megan smiled at Lucy and Michael. ‘Hi. How are you both?’

Michael smiled weakly, but Lucy ignored her aunt and continued. ‘Mum, Michael’s right. You need to circulate.’

‘I’m doing just that, and I’ll do it in my way.’

​

Lucy reached for her mother’s arm, but Ellie drew away. ‘Please don’t force me. I know you think you know best but, looking around the room, I think you two know more people here than I do. So, why don’t you two circulate?’ She paused, but neither child said anything. ‘And next time you’re politely asked how you are, have the good manners to answer. Especially when it’s my sister.’ She turned back to Megan. ‘So, what were you saying?’

​

Lucy and Michael stared at the back of their mother for a second and then at each other before striding off.

​

‘Wow, Ellie, what did you mean? Sounded more like “go swivel”!’

​

‘They can do, and frankly, I’m not bothered. But I know I’ve had enough of being pushed around.’ She cast a quick glance around the room. ‘Also, do you know half the people here? I certainly don’t, and it’s my party.’

​

Megan looked at her sister. ‘I think I might be on the verge of Big Sister hero worship. Imagine you all fired up after all these years. You’ll be flashing your boobs and knickers next, shouting, “Who fancies a quickie?”’

​

Ellie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Oh Megan,’ she said quietly, ‘there’s no one in this room that would get anywhere near a quickie, even though, I must admit, I might enjoy one. And, anyway, I can’t flash my knickers.’

​

‘Why not?’ asked her sister.

‘Because I’m not wearing any.’

Megan looked astonished. ‘Really! I can’t believe that. I really can’t.’ She looked around the room and giggled. ‘I wonder if you’re the only one?’

​

‘I’m only kidding,’ said Ellie. ‘Seriously though, do you know many of the people here?’

​

Megan shook her head. ‘Few… and I like even fewer.’ They both laughed. ‘So,’ continued Megan, ‘what did you get for your birthday? A few cards with old lady flowers on them and a bunch of garage flowers?’

‘That’s about it. How did you know?’

​

‘Because I know this bloody family. They’ll think this party is enough. All show and no substance. Where the fuck did it go wrong, Ellie? Our family had everything, and each of us—one way or another—got screwed. Too bloody trusting you’ve been, that’s your problem. And too generous with your money.’

​

Ellie put an arm around Megan. ‘And what’s yours?’

‘Huh, too bloody randy, too bloody weak-minded, and too stupid to know when I’m being used.’

​

Megan opened her handbag. ‘Nearly forgot,’ she said as she pulled out something small and gift wrapped. She handed it to Ellie. ‘Do me a favour and open it later. It’s a special moment sort of thing. This place won’t do it justice.’

​

Ellie nodded. ‘OK, if that’s what you want. Thank you.’ She kissed Megan on the cheek. ‘Now, come on, help me out. A quick once around the room and then a few drinks. I’ve already had a bottle of red wine and I’d dearly like this to be an evening to forget.’

​

Ellie felt someone touch her shoulder. She turned. ‘Polly, Gideon, how good to see you both! Oh, thank God for friendly faces.’

​

‘Yes, thank God,’ the Reverend Gideon Pickersgill-Rivers smiled warmly at Ellie. ‘Happy Birthday, my dear.’

​

‘Yes, Happy Birthday,’ added his wife, Polly. ‘And hello Megan. How are you?’

Megan smiled at them both. ‘I’m well.’

​

Gideon bent his vast frame down to kiss Megan tenderly, as he always did, and then he looked at Ellie. ‘And one for the birthday girl.’ Ellie turned her cheek slightly.

​

‘I’m so pleased to see you both. How did you get in?’ she asked. ‘Through a window? Did you have to disguise yourselves as caterers?’

​

‘Actually,’ said Polly, ‘We received an invitation, surprisingly. Well, we think we were - and so we just presumed we had been.’ Polly sighed. ‘It’s sometimes – and how do I put this politely – difficult to know with Lucy? She can be so…’

‘Difficult?’ suggested Ellie.

​

Polly smiled and touched her arm. ‘Anyway, no-one challenged us at the door and Gideon didn’t have to rely on divine intervention or, thankfully, his martial arts expertise to get us in. We’re here now, with you, and that’s what matters. Oh, and we’ve left a small something on the gift table.’

​

Ellie looked surprised. ‘Gift table? What gift table?’

‘Over there, next to the hole in the wall that’s supposed to be a bar,’ chipped in Megan. ‘We were to present our gifts at the table.’

​

Ellie threw back her head and looked at the ceiling. ‘Oh, no. how bloody embarrassing.’

​

Gideon was looking at his wife; a rather vague expression had taken hold of him. ‘What martial arts expertise? I don’t think I have ever suggested I had any such prowess or even a basic understanding of martial arts.’ 

​

The three women giggled. ‘Oh Gideon, bless you, you can be really priceless,’ said Ellie.

​

 

​​