Silver

Chapter 46 - then

It had been four weeks since I'd been on the medication. In the past couple of days I'd started to feel better, more myself, perhaps even a better version of myself. Somehow I managed to convince Alistair to come to Millie's for dinner, like a proper foursome.

In an unusual stroke of inspiration, I decorated a card for him and wrote a little message saying, 'Join me for dinner with my best friend and her husband tomorrow night. I may even make it worth your while. Hugs and lots of kisses, Sylvie.' I put it in an envelope and left it on the pillow on his bed.

In the morning, I found a note left on the kitchen bench. 'I would love to. Thanks for inviting me. Kisses, Alistair.'

Later, while he was at work, I left a small box of chocolates on his bed with a note saying, 'Pick me up at 7pm. My room. Kisses, Sylvie.'

7 o'clock and I was nervous. I hadn't heard the noise of that game all evening. I heard him get home from work and make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen, then I heard him in the shower and moving around his room. I hadn't heard that game on at all and it made me so pleased.

I was wearing a plain outfit for him; a classic black dress that fell to just above my knees. I even wore perfume and my wedding ring. I felt kind of excited.

He knocked on my door and I answered. He'd gone to some trouble also; he was wearing a purple and white chequered shirt, buttoned all the way to his neck. I noticed that his hair was longer and he'd even used some product, trying to spike it up a little, in a dishevelled manner. He smelt nice, like cinnamon. 'Is this okay?' he asked, a bit unsure.

'It's good.'

'You look beautiful,' he said.

'Thank you. Let's go.'

He drove. It was only the second or third time I'd been in his car. I asked him about work and he told me about a new development that was causing him a headache on Swanston Street. We were like a normal couple, with an added sprinkle of excitement and anticipation.

Millie and Jason lived in a new gated community, protected from desperates. Their house was a modern Victorian townhouse lookalike. Everything in it was brand new, but had been manufactured to look like period pieces. There was a chaise lounge in the corner of the sitting room and a 10-seater polished cedar table in the dining room. When Millie gave her tour she pointed out the 'real marble' benchtop in the kitchen and told me that she couldn't put hot pots on it because it would crack. Then she showed me their laundry, which was bigger than my bedroom, and that new clothes dryer of theirs. I feigned delight on this house-wide tour of consumerism in mediocre taste.

She served beef wellington, wrapped in home-made pastry, with Yorkshire puds, beans and honeyed carrots. Even my father would have been impressed by the quality of her cooking. For desert she'd made a chocolate and pear tart. I noticed she gave herself the tiniest portion. We all praised her cooking and the conversation was as light and meaningful as sea foam.

Afterwards, I helped Millie stack her new 5-star energy and water efficient dishwasher. I scraped the leftover food on her plate into the bin.

'You didn't eat much,' I said.

'Oh, you know how it is, cooking all day. I often don't feel like eating in the end. And besides, I want to look my best for Jason.'

'He's your husband, if he doesn't love you for who you are, then he doesn't deserve you.' I almost choked on my own words, who am I to give any advice about relationships? But I didn't think that anyone should be starving themselves to impress their partner.

'Oh, he loves me,' Millie said, softly, almost inaudibly. 'He's just so handsome, isn't he? It's kind of intimidating.'

Despite her delicious food, I was left with a bad taste in my mouth, so I declined offers of tea or coffee and we went home.

Back home, in the hallway, outside my door, Alistair held my hand and said, 'Thank you for this evening. I had a really nice time.'

'Come and sleep in my bed tonight,' I said. 'We don't have to do anything, just ...' but I couldn't think of what I was hoping to do.

'I'll be there in five minutes,' he said.

I brushed my teeth in my bathroom and I changed into a pale pink silk negligee. I felt excited, lying here, waiting for my husband to join me in bed. I had the bedside lamp on, giving a soft glow through the room. Alistair came in, wearing green boxer shorts. His chest was bare. He got in my bed and wrapped his arms around me. He'd shaved the stubble from his face. I could see a spot of blood where he'd nicked his neck just a little. I touched his neck and kissed him. When he kissed me back it felt natural and comfortable, not like fireworks, but like a handheld sparkler at a party.

We kissed for a long time. He was very respectful. He held me tight, but his hands didn't roam, except up my back. He felt warm and comfortable, like a cosy blanket. Sometimes we paused and looked into each other's eyes. Relief washed over his face.

'Sleep in my arms,' he said. I nestled into the V of his armpit and fell asleep, snug in his embrace.