towards the light of this party. She
sat down on the sofa, which creaked,
but to choose to have such an old sofa seemed nonchalant and
whimsical. She wondered if everyone had gone upstairs. That
must be what one did at parties these days. She thought how
right she’d been not to give into an impulse to run away and
hide in a country town that might be friendly, when this could
happen to her in the city. And just around the corner from her!
Goodness, this might be the start of a new life! So she tapped
her feet to the heavy metal, and tried not to lose the beat.
When the music stopped, the house was so quiet she could
hear the roof twitching in the evening. Had everyone gone to
sleep upstairs? A whole party full?
After a while, it seemed imperative to do something,
soshe went to the front door. The man was still there,
ę ǯ
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
She was used to people’¢Ě
away, disappointed that it was only her they were looking at.
ę £ǯ
“I didn’t get around to inviting them,” he said.
¢ǰ Ȭě ǯ
pleasant nudging seemed to happen in her stomach, at least
ǯȱ ȱȱȱ££¢ǯȱ
She thought of something to say.
“May I have a drink?”
He looked down at his glass.
“I’ve only got milk left,” he said.
He came back to the porch with a milk carton, two jars and
an ice tray. She helped him dislodge the ice blocks under the
garden tap. Their hands knocked together.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For this,” he said, indicating the empty house.
“But it’s so chic,” she said. “To hold a party like this!
It’sso full of...” Her hands took in the air, the street,
theirlives. “Possibilities.”
She tossed back her head and laughed. They went back
tothe porch.
“There’s lots to eat,” he said.
“It takes me back,” she said.
After a silence, she added: “Drinking milk, I mean.” And
after another silence, she said: “I always think ice blocks
make things festive.”
ęǰ ǰ
allowed her to look at hers. “Nearly midnight,” she said
brightly. She still believed in his party.
“What’s for your dinner tonight?” he said, because of
herbright laugh.
She was torn between honesty and the desire to make
her fridge seem glamorous. She decided on honesty,
whichshe always did.
“Ĵǰ” she said.
“I have some cereal,” he said.
“I know,” she said.There was a pause.
“To eat?” she asked.
They ate cereal in his kitchen. He owned two bowls, so
they ate from bowls. There wasn’t any sugar, and she didn’t
ěǰ
packet in the cupboard was limp with emptiness and perhaps
black with ants. Besides, there was something brewing in the
ǰ ¢ ę
theĴ ǰȮ
Ȯ ere her. The thought wouldn’t
stop. As if it were her breasts. What if he guessed her
thoughts! He might laugh. On the other hand, he might
declare love. She wouldn’t know where to look. But when
hisplate was dabbed clean, she felt the thought fade.
She began to move her legs under his laminex table as
if she were about to leave. She was at his front gate
beforehe spoke.
“Would you stay tonight?” he asked.
She thought of her bed, narrow and forlorn in her
silenthouse.
She stayed.
¢ǯǰĴ
asked of her. Only that she hold him, which she was glad to
do, damply and clumsily. She was also glad that the bedding
operation happened at the far end of her body and she didn’t
have to look, just murmur encouragement.
By morning, she felt a certain fondness, especially because
he’d ended with such gentleness her 39-year wait. She boldly
kissed his chin, though it was prickly already. She wanted to
thank him, though that might not be appropriate.
“Why have you been a virgin so long?” he asked. She
ǰęǯ
“I know!” he said. “It was because you wanted to make
things last.”
He touched her curly dark hair, as if he was marvelling
that she was there beside him. It was very pleasurable to
herę ǯ
It was almost like happiness.
“I might hold another party soon,” he said. “If a party can
bring you to me.”
“I’ll come,” she said quickly.
“When?” she asked after a while.
“Maybe next year,” he said.
“That’s not so soon,” she said, gently, so he wouldn’t
feelcriticised.
She laughed again, to show how soon she wanted his
party, and him.
“When would you come to another party I held?” he asked.
She wanted to say tomorrow, but that might seem greedy.
She so wanted to be perfect.
“In six weeks,” she said.
He set the exact date, even to the hour.
He wanted to be prepared. He wanted to be sure
she’d come, and he thought that exactitude might
providea guarantee.ELLE
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