‘Even if you don’t want to celebrate them, we can still celebrate you,’ Rachel told her old friend.
Tassie had said nothing but Rachel wondered when her birthday was. It had to be in winter, she thought, wondering if she could find Tassie’s purse and look at her pension card or something.
Rachel headed upstairs where Joe was waiting. They were going to play a board game and get fish and chips, with an extra serve for Tassie, and Joe would stay because Alice was at a friend’s house.
Joe had been patient with her as she explored her new feelings and experiences – but as he said, he wasn’t very knowing either, so they might as well learn together.
Clara had taken her to the doctor to put her on the pill and now she felt very grown up when she took one every morning.
Rachel opened the door to the upstairs and saw Joe had decorated the room.
White balloons covered the ceiling with silver ribbons coming off them, and red paper hearts were strung across the room from corner to corner.
‘What’s this?’ she asked, as Joe stepped out from the bedroom in a dinner suit and Michael Bublé music started playing from somewhere.
‘What is going on?’ she asked, bewildered as she looked around. ‘It’s not Valentine’s Day.’
Joe moved to her and held her as though to dance a waltz.
‘I don’t know how to dance the old-fashioned way,’ she admitted, trying to be heard over the loud tones of Michael Bublé singing about coming home or something.
‘Neither do I,’ said Joe and she saw he was very red in the face.
‘Come into the room,’ he said.
She looked up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t want to.’ She felt sick.
‘Why?’ Joe’s face crumpled.
Rachel felt stupid and childish but she had to be honest with him.
‘I’m afraid of balloons. I have been since I was a child and Moira used to blow them up and pop them to make herself laugh.’
Joe gasped and quickly ran into the bedroom and turned off the music and ran out to Rachel. He closed the door to the room, and stood at the top of the stairs with her.
‘I am so sorry – I should have known,’ he said.
‘Why should you have known? It’s not something people talk about is it? Hello. I’m Rachel, how do you feel about balloons?’
Joe shook her head at her. ‘But I should know what Moira did to you and I don’t.’
Rachel sat on the top stair and Joe sat next to her.
‘The thing is, Moira did a lot to me. Some of it I have forgotten but then sometimes I will see something and it will jolt an old memory and it’s not nice but it goes away. I can’t tell you everything she did because I can’t remember it all off the top of my head but when it comes I will tell you if I want to, but sometimes I might not want to open that all up again.’
Joe nodded and took her hand.
‘So what was that about?’ She nudged him with her elbow.
‘It was my badly thought out attempt at a marriage proposal,’ he said and she looked at him and saw he was serious.
‘Oh, Joe, you don’t need all that to ask me to marry you; you just had to ask.’
But Joe looked downcast. ‘I did a lot of reading about it, and people said I needed a grand gesture.’
Rachel laughed but not unkindly. ‘I don’t need grand gestures. I would just like you, so if you want to ask me…’ she encouraged.
Joe stood up and pulled her to her feet. He then got onto one knee and pulled a black ring box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a beautiful ruby ring with tiny seed pearls around it. It was exactly what Rachel would have chosen if asked.
‘Rachel Brown, will you do me the honour of being my wife?’
‘Yes, Joe, I will,’ she said firmly, and then he stood up and pulled a ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger.
‘Mum had fat fingers,’ he said, as the ring was a little large on her thin hands. ‘But we can get it resized.’
‘This was your mum’s?’ she asked, feeling overwhelmed.
‘Oh yes, and she would have loved you. Always loved a baker and a woman who had her own mind and business. She was clever like you, Rach, and I am sorry you never met her.’
Rachel felt her throat constrict with tears and she kissed Joe for a long time.
‘Now get rid of those balloons please,’ she asked, ‘or I will have nightmares for the rest of our married life.’
52
Clara and Pansy stood in the clearing between the oak trees as Henry dug a hole in the ground. Pansy had one hand closed tightly, and the other hand was holding Clara’s.
She watched her father dig the hole with his spade. He was wearing a suit, something she hadn’t seen him in before, and it looked strange when he came out of the van wearing it.
The van was back but Pansy didn’t really want to be in it anymore. They had a sofa with a long bit that Pansy could lie on like she was a queen and Clara had given her blanket shaped like a mermaid tail, which she loved playing with.
Daddy had said she could play in the van whenever she wanted but she hadn’t wanted to yet.
Pansy felt Clara squeeze her hand and she looked up at her. Clara looked sad but Pansy didn’t really know why – maybe she was sad for her and Daddy.
She squeezed Clara’s hand back as she saw her father put down the spade and wipe his brow.
Daddy had told her to wear her best dress, which she did, so she was wearing her new school dress. She loved it so much she couldn’t stop looking at herself in the mirror. It was yellow checked with a white collar and buttons down the
