An extract from Three Girls by Sally Dixon
The doorbell chimed its usual hesitant off key jangle, reminding Marianne once more of her inefficiency when it came to household repairs. Duncan went thundering down the stairs in response, a blur of flying feet. “I’ll get it Mum,” he called out.
Marianne bit back her usual reminder to be careful of smooth socks sliding on the polished wood stairs and concentrated on applying the finishing touches to her make-up. She didn’t usually bother at the weekends, but then she reasoned, there wasn’t usually anybody to bother for, except herself and Duncan. She looked in the mirror and pulled a face. She never liked the way she looked – her hair always seemed to be a mess, she could never find the right eye shadow for her green eyes and her skin was too pale… She shrugged – it would just have to do.
Logan was standing awkwardly in the living room when she came downstairs, holding a bunch of flowers. Duncan had been holding forth about his coming music exam and looked up at her as she walked into the room, unsuccessfully hiding a snigger as he took in the make-up.
“I wasn’t sure where to put these.” Logan held out the flowers. “I gather they are what everyone has to bring when they get an invitation in Holland.”
Marianne smiled, glaring at Duncan who had sniggered again as Logan held out the flowers. “They’re lovely – thank you. You are quite right. The Dutch always bring flowers for every occasion – I think it’s a lovely tradition.” She handed the flowers to Duncan. “Perhaps you could put them in the sink for me for now, Duncan,” she said sweetly, making an ‘I’ll see you later’ face at him. “Don’t forget to run enough water to cover the ends of the stalks,” she added as he took them with a snort of disgust.
They stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.
Marianne smiled brightly and asked Logan if he would like a drink. She was aware that her voice sounded forced and too loud. She tried to tone it down. “The new winter clothes look great.”
“Yeah?” Logan looked embarrassed. “It’s good to be warm in any case.”
Marianne excused herself to go and make coffee. The ritual gave her time to think. She tried to analyse her feelings, finding it hard to understand why everything seemed to have changed from the first time he had come – suddenly he wasn’t a stranger, a visiting American colleague, who she was entertaining just to be friendly. Suddenly it mattered. She’d found it hard to forget his words in the café when he’d said he wanted to get to know her better. His physical presence made her think about them even more. The trouble was, she thought to herself with a small embarrassed smile, she’d forgotten how to date.
Logan sat on the sofa staring out of the window. He’d dressed carefully before he came out – not to impress he assured himself; but jeez, he didn’t want Marianne to get the impression he was a slob. He thought the flowers had gone down well. He hadn’t been sure about bringing them – although he had really wanted to get some for her, he didn’t want it to appear too big a deal. It was a long time since he’d given anyone flowers – apart from his mom of course on mother’s day – but he knew it was the custom in Holland when visiting, so he hoped it hadn’t seemed like he was dating or some such. Hell, he was too old to date.
He got up and wandered into the kitchen and stood and watched Marianne as she fixed the coffee. Duncan seemed to have made himself scarce and gone outside. “Duncan gone off someplace?” he said.
Marianne took her head out of the cupboard from where she had been searching for cups. Their eyes met. They both suddenly exploded with laughter. “Did you see his face?” she asked.
Logan nodded; the tension between them evaporating. “He’s probably gone off to tell his friends how yukky grown-ups can be.”
Marianne smiled and her eyes sparkled. “Something like that.” She poured the coffee and took it back into the living room, placing it on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. Logan followed and sat down on the edge of the seat.
“You look nice.” He looked up at her appreciatively.
“Thanks.” Marianne perched at the other end of the sofa, keeping a distance in between them. Her attempt at coolness was spoiled, he noticed, by the blush that crept up from the collar of her white blouse. She smoothed down her skirt self- consciously.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes and Logan searched desperately for the words to fill it. They both picked up their coffee cups and stirred them thoughtfully.
“It’s kinda hard ain’t it?” Logan said eventually.
“What?”
“You know…sort of dating again.”
The doorbell chimed its usual hesitant off key jangle, reminding Marianne once more of her inefficiency when it came to household repairs. Duncan went thundering down the stairs in response, a blur of flying feet. “I’ll get it Mum,” he called out.
Marianne bit back her usual reminder to be careful of smooth socks sliding on the polished wood stairs and concentrated on applying the finishing touches to her make-up. She didn’t usually bother at the weekends, but then she reasoned, there wasn’t usually anybody to bother for, except herself and Duncan. She looked in the mirror and pulled a face. She never liked the way she looked – her hair always seemed to be a mess, she could never find the right eye shadow for her green eyes and her skin was too pale… She shrugged – it would just have to do.
Logan was standing awkwardly in the living room when she came downstairs, holding a bunch of flowers. Duncan had been holding forth about his coming music exam and looked up at her as she walked into the room, unsuccessfully hiding a snigger as he took in the make-up.
“I wasn’t sure where to put these.” Logan held out the flowers. “I gather they are what everyone has to bring when they get an invitation in Holland.”
Marianne smiled, glaring at Duncan who had sniggered again as Logan held out the flowers. “They’re lovely – thank you. You are quite right. The Dutch always bring flowers for every occasion – I think it’s a lovely tradition.” She handed the flowers to Duncan. “Perhaps you could put them in the sink for me for now, Duncan,” she said sweetly, making an ‘I’ll see you later’ face at him. “Don’t forget to run enough water to cover the ends of the stalks,” she added as he took them with a snort of disgust.
They stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.
Marianne smiled brightly and asked Logan if he would like a drink. She was aware that her voice sounded forced and too loud. She tried to tone it down. “The new winter clothes look great.”
“Yeah?” Logan looked embarrassed. “It’s good to be warm in any case.”
Marianne excused herself to go and make coffee. The ritual gave her time to think. She tried to analyse her feelings, finding it hard to understand why everything seemed to have changed from the first time he had come – suddenly he wasn’t a stranger, a visiting American colleague, who she was entertaining just to be friendly. Suddenly it mattered. She’d found it hard to forget his words in the café when he’d said he wanted to get to know her better. His physical presence made her think about them even more. The trouble was, she thought to herself with a small embarrassed smile, she’d forgotten how to date.
Logan sat on the sofa staring out of the window. He’d dressed carefully before he came out – not to impress he assured himself; but jeez, he didn’t want Marianne to get the impression he was a slob. He thought the flowers had gone down well. He hadn’t been sure about bringing them – although he had really wanted to get some for her, he didn’t want it to appear too big a deal. It was a long time since he’d given anyone flowers – apart from his mom of course on mother’s day – but he knew it was the custom in Holland when visiting, so he hoped it hadn’t seemed like he was dating or some such. Hell, he was too old to date.
He got up and wandered into the kitchen and stood and watched Marianne as she fixed the coffee. Duncan seemed to have made himself scarce and gone outside. “Duncan gone off someplace?” he said.
Marianne took her head out of the cupboard from where she had been searching for cups. Their eyes met. They both suddenly exploded with laughter. “Did you see his face?” she asked.
Logan nodded; the tension between them evaporating. “He’s probably gone off to tell his friends how yukky grown-ups can be.”
Marianne smiled and her eyes sparkled. “Something like that.” She poured the coffee and took it back into the living room, placing it on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. Logan followed and sat down on the edge of the seat.
“You look nice.” He looked up at her appreciatively.
“Thanks.” Marianne perched at the other end of the sofa, keeping a distance in between them. Her attempt at coolness was spoiled, he noticed, by the blush that crept up from the collar of her white blouse. She smoothed down her skirt self- consciously.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes and Logan searched desperately for the words to fill it. They both picked up their coffee cups and stirred them thoughtfully.
“It’s kinda hard ain’t it?” Logan said eventually.
“What?”
“You know…sort of dating again.”