He stays put.
I wander in to the kichen to find Maria reorganising my fridge. Joe joins us, slicing into a delicious-looking Italian ham. ‘Do you think the lasagne’s gone off?’ he asks, nodding at the dish.
‘It’s supposed to be like that.’
‘It’s supposed to be blue? Do you have your big pants on as well, Bridget?’
I laugh when I pick up the reference to blue soup. ‘It’ll bake out,’ I tell him.
‘You’ve brought nice crackers,’ I say, as I bring the dish to the table. Maria pulls hers with Lia and they put on thin paper hats.
‘Maria and Lia made them at the school fair. I made this one,’ Joe says, offering me his cracker. He doesn’t put his back into pulling it and I win the fortune-telling fish. ‘It’s lucky,’ he says, placing it on my palm.
‘I don’t obsess about luck anymore, remember? Oh, I’m fickle!’
Lia breaks into Italian and Joe translates. ‘She says Barbie will marry Ken when they have a caravan.’
‘But she didn’t ask for a caravan for Christmas or I’d have bought her one!’ her mum cries.
Lia talks some more in Italian.
‘Apparently she really needed the house first. And the stables,’ Joe tells me with a wry smile.
‘Maybe she should have asked for the caravan instead of Ken?’ I chip in.
‘Then who would muck out the horses?’ says Joe, serving up portions of blue lasagne while I pour the wine.
‘Eva probably has a website that could help her with that.’
Maria tells me about her plans to return to Italy. ‘Lia needs to get back to school. Her English is OK, and getting better by the day, but I think she’ll progress more in her native language. She’s been watchingPeppa Pigon TV all the time we’ve been here, and I worry she’s regressing. Also, while I’m grateful to Joe for taking us in, and London is an interesting city, it’s not for me. I cannot do the weather.’
‘It’s not always like this. Oh no wait, it is always like this,’ I say.
As dusk falls, Maria gathers up their Tupperware and refuses Joe’s offer to return home with them. ‘Stay and eat the rest of the chocolates and watch some TV. Lia’s tired and I might fall asleep while reading her a story. It has been a very nice day but speaking in English is tiring for me. One more reason to go home.’ Joe doesn’t argue, but hoists Lia into his arms for a cuddle before kissing Maria on both cheeks. Lia hugs me and throws her arms around Doodle.
I pop into the bedroom and change into the Christmas PJs Joe left me in a ridiculously full stocking. When I come out, in the silky two piece printed with unicorns in tiaras, he’s snoozing on the sofa. Returning to the kitchen, I grab the fortune-telling fish from beside the sink. I place it on his lips, and it rises and falls with his breath. It then curls up fully before fluttering to the floor and I replace it with my lips. He wakes as I whisper, ‘The fish said you are passionate.’
He pulls me onto his knee. ‘Do you think we should test that theory out?’
Doodle decides to get in on the action and we bat him away, laughing as he responds by licking my toes. I pull my feet up and fold myself into Joe. ‘Definitely,’ I say, congratulating myself on my good fortune.
Epilogue
One year later
Eva has finished curling my hair and she pops Vince’s Florizel headdress on the top like a crown. Joe retrieved it from storage shortly after proposing to me. The tiara scrubbed up beautifully and the florist has woven winter greenery into it. Joe says his mum would have cried if she was still around. I’m used to the pale sheen of my hair now, having removed all trace of unicorn by bleaching it back to blonde. But last night Eva helped me add a single blue streak. For nostalgia purposes only.
I have allowed one more superstition to creep into my planning. My mum’s wedding dress is my ‘something old’. It turns out my dad kept it. Amazing really as he flogged everything else apart from his precious vinyl and guitars. Eva reaches down to stroke Doodle who is lying at my feet, snoring gently. He did ten laps of the flat in an attempt to shed his wedding outfit before giving up and conking out.
‘Handsome boy.’ Eva smiles. She was unconcerned by his disgust at the waistcoat she elaborately stitched for him, with a special top pocket that seals with Velcro. He will be our ring bearer if he can make it down the aisle without knocking anyone over or spilling the gold. Lia and Barbie are my bridesmaids, after Joe negotiated his way out of Ken being his best man and invited his dad to take the role.
‘My dad should be on his way too,’ I say. ‘I’ve heard he’s planning a “surprise” flash-mob of “Fairytale of New York” as we leave the church. Reckons he’s a Shane MacGowan lookalike when he scrubs up. I’ve no idea who he has lined up to sing the Kirsty MacColl part but I’m hoping it’s not me.’
The doorbell goes and I leap up from my seat. ‘Be great if it was a decent coffee, wouldn’t it?’ I say to Eva with a wink.
It’s my dad, arriving early to give me away.
‘I’ve brought your wedding present.’ He lays his prized guitar on my sofa, nodding at Eva.
