She clutched his hand a little tighter and he turned to look at her, with something like surprise on his face.
‘Kate –’
‘Who wants to be a bloody maize farmer, eh? Aren’t you glad that’s not you? Aren’t you glad you’re here instead?’
There was a silence as they looked round the flat again, together. On the floor was a Kentucky Fried Chicken box, five bottles of vodka forming a pyramid on a shelf, several really vile lads’ mags, several equally vile gossip mags, and pinned haphazardly on the wall were a poster of The Graduate, a panoramic photo view of New York, from Kate’s last trip to see her mother, and a series of photos of Sean, Kate and their friends stuck onto cork boards. At Kate’s feet were two empty beer cans. Their eyes met, and they burst out laughing.
‘You know what,’ Sean said, turning to her slowly, ‘you’re right. I am glad I’m here instead, Katy.’ He took her hand, and kissed it.
‘Don’t be sad,’ said Kate, and she gave Sean a hug.
‘I’m not,’ he said, and he squeezed her tight. His hand cupped the back of her head. ‘Bless you, darlin’. It’s just I thought she might be the one … you know? I thought she was the love of my life. So you can’t help thinking about it.’
‘I know,’ said Kate, though she didn’t. She had never thought Jenna was right for Sean. He needed someone … Well, not like Jenna, that was all, and she’d been glad when Sean had come back for their final year single, truth be told. She felt cross, all of a sudden, like the conversation was shifting out of her control. She rested her head on his shoulder, breathing gently.
‘Thanks, darling,’ he said, and she could hear his voice reverberating against her back. ‘I feel fine, god, it’s years ago now, but you can’t help having a little think when you hear something like that, can you.’
‘No,’ said Kate, stroking his back again, and feeling a little like Florence Nightingale, doomed to tend eternally to the romantically injured. ‘You can’t.’ She stood up briskly. ‘I’m going to get changed, OK? We’re going to get dressed up for the ridiculously-themed fancy dress party, we’re going to look a million dollars, and you’re going to have a great evening, I’ll make sure of that. Get another beer. I’ll be five minutes.’
‘Sounds perfect, darling.’ Sean settled back on the sofa. ‘What you wearing?’ he said.
‘The blue and gold dress,’ Kate yelled as she ran down the corridor to her bedroom. ‘It’s a special night.’
‘Sure is,’ said Sean, and Kate heard him cracking open another beer, as she took the blue and gold dress from the hook on her bedroom door where it was hanging. She stroked it happily.
Kate wasn’t a girly girl when she was a teenager, she was more into the old-fashioned, vintage dresses of years ago. She had her old stack of Vogue magazines, from the 1950s and 60s that she’d picked up in second-hand bookshops and school fairs, and she still loved flicking through them, staring with envy at the girls in their effortlessly elegant cocktail dresses, in completely inappropriate settings: posing with a bough of cherry blossom, or hopping off a suspiciously empty, clean Routemaster bus.
On her nineteenth birthday, she and her father were walking through Hampstead. After Venetia left, they would often go for long walks through London, mostly on Sunday afternoons, ambling without aim through the deserted City, or along the river, or through the parks. They’d just come off the Heath, and were looking for a place to have a cup of tea. As they crossed a little cobbled courtyard, deep in conversation about what utter bastards Daniel’s record company, who had just dropped him, were, Kate’s eye fell on a dress in the window of a rickety old shop. It was Fifties, blue silk, embroidered all over with gold silk thread roses. Kate gazed at it, helplessly. Her father, turning around and seeing his pale, lanky daughter peering shyly into the window, had looked at her quizzically, as if trying to work out why she was looking at the dress, why would she be interested in that? It was just a dress – Daniel had never been good at empathy. Then his expression had changed.
‘My god. I did get you a proper birthday present, didn’t I,’ he said, suddenly remembering, panic streaking across his face in case there was a repeat of That Birthday Which They Never Talked About, the one where Kate had gone to school the next morning and come back in the evening to find Venetia had left.
‘Yes you did,’ said Kate loyally. ‘You got me the new lens for my telescope, and that beautiful box of chocolates. It’s OK, Dad, honestly.’
(She had, in fact, bought the lens herself and he had given her the money, but to be fair, Daniel had actually bought the chocolates.)
Daniel breathed in heavily through his nose and pursed his lips, musing.
‘Do you want that dress, old girl?’
Kate looked amazed. ‘Dad! But it’s a hundred quid!’
Daniel looked quickly at his watch and put his arm round her. ‘Who cares! It’s your birthday, darling. Come on. Let’s go and try it on …’
Five years later, it was Kate’s most treasured possession. When she was answering those quizzes at the back of the Sunday supplements, the reply to ‘What one item would you rescue if the house was burning down’ was always, always the blue and gold dress. It had been her telescope, but she was a bit over that now, and it lay, gathering dust, in the back of her cupboard in the Rotherhithe flat.
She only wore the dress on special occasions. She’d worn it to her mother’s wedding, to her ball at college, and she was going to wear it tonight, for no other reason than that she suddenly felt alive with happiness. First Sue had given her the editor’s letter to write, and now she was off to Zoe and Steve’s housewarming party, and everyone was going to be there, and … who knows what might happen?
Kate was at her most beautiful that night, though of course she didn’t realize it. She was twenty-three, still young but much more confident, more relaxed than she’d been even a year ago, her skin clear and unlined, her dark brown eyes shining with excitement, her cheeks flushed. She was smiling as she entered the sitting room, forty-five minutes later, and as she cleared her throat lightly, and Sean sat up and tried to pretend he hadn’t been asleep, she grinned at him, her evening bag cupped in one hand, the other hand holding the skirt of the blue and gold dress, and Sean whistled.
‘Wow, Kate,’ he said, rubbing his eyes and standing up. ‘You look absolutely fucking amazing, do you realize that?’
‘Oh …’ Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Be quiet!’
‘I mean it,’ said Sean, still staring at her. He bowed, and gave her his arm. ‘Let battle commence. You’re going to hook up with someone tonight, I know it. I’m going to have to make sure no one takes advantage of you.’
They moved graciously towards the front door and he held it open for her.
‘Thank you very much,’ said Kate, stealing a glance at him. ‘You’re too kind.’
‘My pleasure, miss.’
‘People are staring at us,’ Kate said as they moved slowly down the high street towards the bus stop, Kate’s high heels making steady progress tricky. Rotherhithe High Street on a Friday evening was not especially accustomed to seeing men in black tie ambling down the street, accompanied by ladies in vintage silk and gold thread.
