Surprise Me
Page 49
‘Is the podium all right?’ Esme asks me anxiously.
‘It’s perfect.’ I beam at her, trying to boost her confidence. ‘Everything looks wonderful.’ I step up on to the podium, switch on the mike, and say ‘one-two-one-two’ into it, my voice booming through the speakers.
‘Brilliant.’ Esme consults a document in her hand. ‘Then Sinead will come forward and unveil the plaque.’ She gestures at a small pair of red velvet curtains, positioned on the wall to the side of the double doors. There are two tasselled cords hanging down, with a pink ribbon tied on one.
‘What’s the ribbon for?’ I ask curiously.
‘So that Sinead knows which tassel to pull,’ explains Esme. ‘It’s a bit of a confusing system. Maybe you could be Sinead and we can check it all works?’
‘Of course.’ I head over to the curtains, then glance at Cedric, to make sure he’s listening. ‘But first, Esme, I want to thank you. You’ve organized every detail of this event so meticulously. You’ve been beyond thorough.’
‘Well.’ Esme flushes modestly. ‘You know. I think I’ve planned for everything …’
‘You certainly have.’ I reach for the tassel. ‘OK, pretend I’m Sinead. I now pronounce this scanner suite open!’
I tug on the tassel with the ribbon, the red velvet curtains swish open and we all stare at … nothing.
It’s bare wall. What?
I glance at Esme, and she’s staring at the wall with horrified, bulging eyes. I swish the curtains back and forth as though the plaque might somehow be hiding – but there’s nothing there.
‘It’s going to be a little tricky for Sinead Brook to unveil a non-existent plaque,’ says Mummy in that sweet, pointed way she has when she wants.
‘Esme!’ barks Cedric. ‘Where’s the plaque?’
‘I don’t know!’ whispers Esme, staring at the wall as though it’s a mirage. ‘It should be there. Maintenance were supposed to …’ She jabs feverishly at her phone. ‘Trev? It’s Esme. Trev, where’s the plaque? The plaque! For the new scanner suite! Well, it was supposed to be here this morning. They’re going to unveil it. Yes! Yes, you did know that!’ Her voice rises almost to a shriek. Then, with a weird over-calm air, she puts her phone away and turns to the rest of us. ‘They’re looking for it.’
‘Looking for it?’ expostulates Cedric. ‘What time does the ceremony begin?’
‘Twenty minutes.’ Esme gulps. Her face has turned a kind of pale green and I feel incredibly sorry for her, although at the same time – hello? Didn’t it even occur to her to check the plaque?
‘What happens if they can’t find it?’ snaps Cedric. ‘Esme, we have Sinead Brook coming to unveil this plaque, do you realize?’
‘Um … um …’ Esme swallows desperately. ‘We could … make a temporary one?’
‘A temporary one?’ he bellows. ‘With what, a Sharpie and some cardboard?’
‘Sylvie!’ Dan’s voice greets me, and I see him approaching with Tessa, Anna and his parents. There’s a general greeting as we all kiss each other and exclaim over how long it’s been. Dan’s mother Sue has clearly been to the hairdresser for the occasion and her hair looks lovely – all auburn and shiny. Meanwhile Dan’s dad Neville is surveying everything with that measured look he has. When he was an accountant he audited big companies and he’s still in the habit of assessing. Everywhere he goes, he hangs back, looks around and gauges things before he proceeds. I can see him doing it now. He’s eyeing up the sign with Daddy’s name on it. He’s looking at the podium, and the velvet curtains, and now Cedric, who is berating Esme in the corner.
‘Something up?’ he says at last.
‘Bit of a drama,’ I say. ‘Let’s get out of the way for a few moments.’ As we walk to the green room, it occurs to me again that Sue and Neville have been married for thirty-eight years. And I know Dan says they’re ‘hardly a good example’, and I know they went through that dicey patch … but they’re together, aren’t they? They must be doing something right. Maybe we can learn from them.
But, oh God.
I’d forgotten. I always forget. The atmosphere of Dan’s parents. It’s like a crackly, invisible veil of just … tension. It’s not that they don’t smile and laugh and make jokes. But everything is so barbed. There are so many little flashes of resentment and simmering fury. It’s exhausting. They’re talking about their recent trip to Switzerland, which you’d think would be innocuous enough. But, no.
‘Then we got out at Lausanne,’ Neville is saying to Tessa (as though Tessa has the first idea what Lausanne is), ‘and we started climbing the mountain, but then Granny Sue suddenly changed her mind. So that was a shame, wasn’t it? Grandpa had to go up all alone.’
‘Granny Sue didn’t “suddenly change her mind”.’ Sue prickles all over. ‘Grandpa’s remembering everything wrong, as usual. Granny Sue was never supposed to be climbing the mountain. Granny Sue had a bad foot, which Grandpa kept forgetting about!’ She flashes an unnerving smile at Anna. ‘Poor Granny!’
The girls are both silenced by their grandparents’ double act. They can pick up on the hostile undertones, even if they don’t know what Lausanne is. Even Dan’s spirits are descending, and you’d think he’d be used to it. His shoulders look cowed and he glances at me as though for rescue.
‘Well!’ I say brightly. ‘Maybe we should head along to the reception. It must have started by now. Girls, finish your biscuits.’
Mummy’s already left the green room – she had one nibble of a grape and then said she was going to visit the Ladies. The truth is, she can’t really connect with Neville and Sue. She doesn’t understand their concerns and they don’t understand hers. Sue, in particular, got in a real huff after she came to one of Mummy’s jewellery parties, all the way from Leicester, and there was a misunderstanding over the pricing of a necklace.
Unfortunately, it was the one party I couldn’t make, so I couldn’t smooth things over. I’m sure it was Mummy’s fault. Sue isn’t married to an accountant for nothing – she would have clocked the price exactly. But Mummy would just think: Well, what’s twenty pounds? and not even notice there was a problem, because she’s infuriating that way.
‘Lovely outfit, Sylvie,’ says Sue as I slip on my powder-blue jacket. ‘Really super. And your hair …’ She shakes her head admiringly. ‘Your dad would be proud, love. I know he always loved your hair. Your “glory”.’
The thing about Sue is, when she’s talking to anyone but her spouse, she’s charming. Neville, too.
‘Thanks, Sue,’ I say gratefully. ‘You look gorgeous, too.’ I stroke her creamy silk shirtsleeve. ‘This is pretty.’
‘You do look good, Mum,’ Dan joins in, and I see Sue’s face pinken with pleasure.
‘Very nice,’ says Neville, his gaze sweeping over her without really looking. ‘All right. Into the fray.’
He never properly looks at her, I think to myself idly. Then this thought hits me again, with more vigour. Or maybe it’s a theory. A hypothesis. Neville never properly looks at Sue. His gaze always seems to skate past her, like a magnet being repelled. I can’t picture them making proper eye contact. I don’t think it ever happens. Neville, the man who surveys everything so carefully, doesn’t look at his wife. Isn’t that a bit weird? A bit sad?
‘It’s perfect.’ I beam at her, trying to boost her confidence. ‘Everything looks wonderful.’ I step up on to the podium, switch on the mike, and say ‘one-two-one-two’ into it, my voice booming through the speakers.
‘Brilliant.’ Esme consults a document in her hand. ‘Then Sinead will come forward and unveil the plaque.’ She gestures at a small pair of red velvet curtains, positioned on the wall to the side of the double doors. There are two tasselled cords hanging down, with a pink ribbon tied on one.
‘What’s the ribbon for?’ I ask curiously.
‘So that Sinead knows which tassel to pull,’ explains Esme. ‘It’s a bit of a confusing system. Maybe you could be Sinead and we can check it all works?’
‘Of course.’ I head over to the curtains, then glance at Cedric, to make sure he’s listening. ‘But first, Esme, I want to thank you. You’ve organized every detail of this event so meticulously. You’ve been beyond thorough.’
‘Well.’ Esme flushes modestly. ‘You know. I think I’ve planned for everything …’
‘You certainly have.’ I reach for the tassel. ‘OK, pretend I’m Sinead. I now pronounce this scanner suite open!’
I tug on the tassel with the ribbon, the red velvet curtains swish open and we all stare at … nothing.
It’s bare wall. What?
I glance at Esme, and she’s staring at the wall with horrified, bulging eyes. I swish the curtains back and forth as though the plaque might somehow be hiding – but there’s nothing there.
‘It’s going to be a little tricky for Sinead Brook to unveil a non-existent plaque,’ says Mummy in that sweet, pointed way she has when she wants.
‘Esme!’ barks Cedric. ‘Where’s the plaque?’
‘I don’t know!’ whispers Esme, staring at the wall as though it’s a mirage. ‘It should be there. Maintenance were supposed to …’ She jabs feverishly at her phone. ‘Trev? It’s Esme. Trev, where’s the plaque? The plaque! For the new scanner suite! Well, it was supposed to be here this morning. They’re going to unveil it. Yes! Yes, you did know that!’ Her voice rises almost to a shriek. Then, with a weird over-calm air, she puts her phone away and turns to the rest of us. ‘They’re looking for it.’
‘Looking for it?’ expostulates Cedric. ‘What time does the ceremony begin?’
‘Twenty minutes.’ Esme gulps. Her face has turned a kind of pale green and I feel incredibly sorry for her, although at the same time – hello? Didn’t it even occur to her to check the plaque?
‘What happens if they can’t find it?’ snaps Cedric. ‘Esme, we have Sinead Brook coming to unveil this plaque, do you realize?’
‘Um … um …’ Esme swallows desperately. ‘We could … make a temporary one?’
‘A temporary one?’ he bellows. ‘With what, a Sharpie and some cardboard?’
‘Sylvie!’ Dan’s voice greets me, and I see him approaching with Tessa, Anna and his parents. There’s a general greeting as we all kiss each other and exclaim over how long it’s been. Dan’s mother Sue has clearly been to the hairdresser for the occasion and her hair looks lovely – all auburn and shiny. Meanwhile Dan’s dad Neville is surveying everything with that measured look he has. When he was an accountant he audited big companies and he’s still in the habit of assessing. Everywhere he goes, he hangs back, looks around and gauges things before he proceeds. I can see him doing it now. He’s eyeing up the sign with Daddy’s name on it. He’s looking at the podium, and the velvet curtains, and now Cedric, who is berating Esme in the corner.
‘Something up?’ he says at last.
‘Bit of a drama,’ I say. ‘Let’s get out of the way for a few moments.’ As we walk to the green room, it occurs to me again that Sue and Neville have been married for thirty-eight years. And I know Dan says they’re ‘hardly a good example’, and I know they went through that dicey patch … but they’re together, aren’t they? They must be doing something right. Maybe we can learn from them.
But, oh God.
I’d forgotten. I always forget. The atmosphere of Dan’s parents. It’s like a crackly, invisible veil of just … tension. It’s not that they don’t smile and laugh and make jokes. But everything is so barbed. There are so many little flashes of resentment and simmering fury. It’s exhausting. They’re talking about their recent trip to Switzerland, which you’d think would be innocuous enough. But, no.
‘Then we got out at Lausanne,’ Neville is saying to Tessa (as though Tessa has the first idea what Lausanne is), ‘and we started climbing the mountain, but then Granny Sue suddenly changed her mind. So that was a shame, wasn’t it? Grandpa had to go up all alone.’
‘Granny Sue didn’t “suddenly change her mind”.’ Sue prickles all over. ‘Grandpa’s remembering everything wrong, as usual. Granny Sue was never supposed to be climbing the mountain. Granny Sue had a bad foot, which Grandpa kept forgetting about!’ She flashes an unnerving smile at Anna. ‘Poor Granny!’
The girls are both silenced by their grandparents’ double act. They can pick up on the hostile undertones, even if they don’t know what Lausanne is. Even Dan’s spirits are descending, and you’d think he’d be used to it. His shoulders look cowed and he glances at me as though for rescue.
‘Well!’ I say brightly. ‘Maybe we should head along to the reception. It must have started by now. Girls, finish your biscuits.’
Mummy’s already left the green room – she had one nibble of a grape and then said she was going to visit the Ladies. The truth is, she can’t really connect with Neville and Sue. She doesn’t understand their concerns and they don’t understand hers. Sue, in particular, got in a real huff after she came to one of Mummy’s jewellery parties, all the way from Leicester, and there was a misunderstanding over the pricing of a necklace.
Unfortunately, it was the one party I couldn’t make, so I couldn’t smooth things over. I’m sure it was Mummy’s fault. Sue isn’t married to an accountant for nothing – she would have clocked the price exactly. But Mummy would just think: Well, what’s twenty pounds? and not even notice there was a problem, because she’s infuriating that way.
‘Lovely outfit, Sylvie,’ says Sue as I slip on my powder-blue jacket. ‘Really super. And your hair …’ She shakes her head admiringly. ‘Your dad would be proud, love. I know he always loved your hair. Your “glory”.’
The thing about Sue is, when she’s talking to anyone but her spouse, she’s charming. Neville, too.
‘Thanks, Sue,’ I say gratefully. ‘You look gorgeous, too.’ I stroke her creamy silk shirtsleeve. ‘This is pretty.’
‘You do look good, Mum,’ Dan joins in, and I see Sue’s face pinken with pleasure.
‘Very nice,’ says Neville, his gaze sweeping over her without really looking. ‘All right. Into the fray.’
He never properly looks at her, I think to myself idly. Then this thought hits me again, with more vigour. Or maybe it’s a theory. A hypothesis. Neville never properly looks at Sue. His gaze always seems to skate past her, like a magnet being repelled. I can’t picture them making proper eye contact. I don’t think it ever happens. Neville, the man who surveys everything so carefully, doesn’t look at his wife. Isn’t that a bit weird? A bit sad?
