Writers Abroad Magazine Issue 4 | Page 21

Nothing Fits

By Laura Besley
WRITERS ABROAD MAGAZINE : THE THIRD SPACE
Russel told me a couple of days ago that we were going out for dinner for my birthday – he knows I don ’ t like surprises – but I haven ’ t had the time or energy to shop for a new outfit . I ’ ve had a shower , done my hair and makeup in record time since putting the twins to bed at seven , but fifteen minutes later I ’ m still standing in front of the wardrobe trying to decide what to wear . ‘ Are you ready ?’ Russel yells . I run down the stairs . ‘ Are you trying to wake them up ?’ ‘ You ’ re still in your dressing gown .’ He ’ s dressed in smart black jeans and a checked shirt I bought him for his birthday a couple months ago . Both boys were screaming in the buggy as I waited to pay for it . ‘ I can ’ t decide what to wear . Nothing nice fits anymore .’ ‘ It doesn ’ t matter what you wear .’ I ’ m blinking away the tears . ‘ It matters to me .’ ‘ Catherine . That ’ s not what I meant .’ The doorbell rings . ‘ Blimey ! Is everyone determined to wake them up ?’ ‘ It ’ ll be my mum .’ ‘ Just go and answer the door before she rings the bell again .’ Tiptoeing back into the bedroom I mutter to myself , don ’ t cry , don ’ t fight . This has been my mantra since the boys were born six months ago . It doesn ’ t always work . Finally , I pull on a pair of loose black trousers ( not at all flattering ) and a pink cashmere jumper which is stretched almost out of shape across my swollen body .
‘ Hello dear ,’ my mother-in-law says . ‘ You look , uhm , nice .’ Russel will have asked her to say something . She wouldn ’ t normally notice if you walk in the room with a tea cosy on your head . I manage a half-smile . ‘ Thanks .’ ‘ C ’ mon , let ’ s go .’ Russel is comically hopping from foot to foot . ‘ We don ’ t get out nearly as much as we used to . We need to make the most of it .’ ‘ I ’ ll be lucky if I don ’ t fall asleep during dinner .’ ‘ Not a chance .’ He waggles his eyebrows up and down and just for a moment I remember the Russel I used to know . The Russel I fell in love with . Before his face was buried under tiredness and worry and stress .
*** Holding our menus open to placate the hovering waiters , neither of us can decide whether we want to order a dessert . ‘ Dinner was lovely ,’ I say . ‘ It was nice to go out .’ ‘ Wasn ’ t it ?’ He hands me a card . ‘ Your present ’ s inside .’ I carefully prise the envelope open . The card says “ Happy Birthday to my Beautiful Wife ”. A sob escapes . I open the card and a voucher falls out . I read it two or three times . ‘ A gym membership ? You ’ ve bought me a gym membership for my birthday ?’
21 | May 2016