Sauce for the Goose

‘Ed? Can you give me a hand with the goose please?’ Annabel called from the kitchen.

‘Yeah, hang on; I’ll be with you in a minute.’

Annabel sighed with exasperation. ‘No, I need a hand now,’ she replied, tucking a stray tendril of back hair behind her ear. ‘It’s ready to go in the oven.’

Ed finished sending a text message, put his phone on the coffee table by the Christmas tree and ambled next door to the kitchen.

‘What do you need me to do?’

‘Can you pour some boiling water over it, to get the fat out? You know I don’t like doing it. I don’t care what Delia says, I think it’s dangerous.’

‘No worries.’ Ed filled the kettle and set it to boil. he opened the fridge and took out a bottle of beer.

‘You want one?'

‘No, not for me thanks,’ Annabel said, as he swallowed half the bottle in a single gulp.

‘Anyway, who were you texting?’

Ed licked his lips. ‘Oh, it’s no-one, just someone from work.’

‘Someone from work? It’s Christmas morning - and anyway, they made you redundant six months ago.’ Annabel pulled her mouth into a thin line.

Ed shrugged. ‘Whatever. Dave says he wishes us both a merry Christmas.’

Beep beep. The phone sounded again and Ed almost ran back to the living room. At the same moment the kettle clicked off and Annabel followed Ed as he picked up the phone and began to write another text message.

‘Ed, please,’ Annabel said. ‘Can you see to the goose? I need to get it in the oven otherwise we’ll have nothing to feed your parents when they arrive.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever.’

He put the phone back onto the table and returned to the kitchen. Annabel stood in the middle of the modern living room, stretching the stiff muscles in her shoulders and back. As she did so she listened to Ed clumsily clattering the roasting pan and rack over the sink, ready to receive the goose for its scalding bath.

She saw Ed’s phone lying on the table and was overcome with an urge to pick it up. She knew what she was about to do was wrong, but nonetheless she was unable to help herself. She quickly scrolled to the messages folder, her hands shaking as she did so. She knew how she would feel if Ed were to read the text messages on her phone, but she continued scrolling through the menus regardless.

“Missing you too hun xxx” she read on opening the first text; the message was sent not five minutes previously from someone called Jodie. She continued reading, feeling numb and shocked. There were five more messages from Jodie, all sent this morning - and one contained a photo of a twenty-something blonde posing in a see-through lace dress, with the caption “Feeling naughty? ;o)”

Annabel thought that she might faint and she sat down heavily on the large leather sofa. Still shaking, she replaced the phone on the table where Ed had left it and put her head in her hands.

‘Are you OK, Bel?’

She jumped. ‘Yeah…I’m…no, actually, I’m not,’ she stammered.

‘You look dreadful, what’s the matter?’ He took her hand in his and went to stroke her hair.

‘Nothing.’ Annabel finally found her voice and flinched as Ed touched her. ‘I’m fine, just a little bit stressed.’ She forced a smile.

‘I’ll get you a brandy,’ said Ed. ‘That’ll sort you out.’ He went to the sideboard and poured a generous measure into a crystal tumbler.

‘Brandy?’ said Annabel. ‘But it’s not midday yet.’

Ed laughed. ‘My granddad always swore by brandy as a cure for almost anything, he lived to eighty-three so he must have been right. Here you go.’

He passed the glass to Annabel: she looked at it suspiciously but took a large gulp; she pulled a face at the unfamiliar taste of neat spirits.. She took another, more cautious sip and decided her husband’s late grandfather had been right.

‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ asked Ed.

‘I’d better get the spuds on,’ said Annabel in a hollow voice.

She picked up the brandy glass and took it into the kitchen with her. She filled the sink with water, tipped in the potatoes and began peeling them. A hundred thoughts spiralled in her head: Ed’s parents would be arriving for lunch but she was determined to somehow get through the day before confronting Ed about the text messages.

Beep beep. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus on the potatoes, knowing full well that Ed was in the next room exchanging messages with his girlfriend.

‘I’m just popping out for a bit,’ Ed said as he came into the kitchen. ‘Is there anything you need?’

‘Popping out? Where are you going?’ Annabel snapped and dropped the knife and a half-peeled potato back into the sink.

‘Just out. I need some fresh air.’

‘But your parents will be here any minute!’

‘Relax, OK? They won’t be here for another hour if the M25’s bad. Can I get anything for you?’

Annabel picked up a tea towel and briskly dried her hands. She felt detached, as if she was looking at the scene through a window. She looked Ed straight in the eye.

‘You’re going to see her, aren’t you?’ she said calmly.

‘I’ve got no idea what you’re on about,’ Ed blustered, staring at the kitchen floor.

‘Jodie.’ Annabel spat out the word. ‘You’re off to see your little blonde whore.’

‘If you must know I was going to the pub for a quick pint before the folks arrive.’

‘Liar!’ Annabel screamed, turning on him. ‘Don’t you bloody lie to me!’

Ed took a step backwards and held up his hands in self-defence.

‘Like I said, I was just going…’

‘What do you take me for?’ Annabel shouted, cutting him off. ‘You were going to see that blonde bitch! I wasn’t born yesterday.’

‘How do you know?’ Ed asked softly.

‘I just know. Am I right, or am I right?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You will be. So what’s she got that I haven’t, eh?’

‘She doesn’t mean anything to me, Bel. I mean, I only slept with her twice.’

‘Twice! That’s meant to make me feel better, is it? I want to know everything: times, dates, places. I need to know.’

Ed sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘She’s a receptionist from work, a temp...we met last spring. One day her car broke down and so I gave her a lift home – it turned out she only lives up the road. Then it got to be a habit, I’d give her a lift to and from work a couple of times a week, and we got to know each other a bit better, and then one thing lead to another…’ Ed let the sentence drift off.

‘And then what?’

Annabel narrowed her eyes and stood facing Ed with her arms crossed over her chest. He looked haggard and defeated. She was surprised to find herself feeling sorry for him.

Beep beep. Instinctively Ed reached for his phone.

‘Is that from her?’

He looked at the phone and shrugged before pushing it away.

‘So, come on, out with it. One thing led to another, but you only slept with her twice even though she only lives round the corner. What else?’

Ed hung his head. ‘I suppose I was flattered by the attention, she’s twenty-three and I’m old enough to be her father.’ He paused. ‘She invited me in for coffee one morning when I went to pick her up for work: she made a move on me then.’

‘Ah, poor you! So it’s all her fault? And I bet it wasn’t just twice, was it?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’ll be a No, then.’

‘I said I’m sorry.’

‘When was it? Early mornings before you went to work, or after work when you had given her a lift home?’

‘She’s lost her job as well, you know.’

‘And what difference does that make?’ she asked.

Ed looked away, silently chewing his lip.

‘So you’ve been sneaking off round to her place in the daytimes as well? You’re an utter bastard, you know that? I’ve been working double shifts at the hospital to try and keep a roof over our heads because you can’t get a job, and you thank me by shagging some little blonde tart behind my back?’

‘But we never…I mean, we never…not here.’

‘And I’m meant to be grateful for that, am I?’

Ed hung his head and said nothing.

‘Your mum and dad will be here soon,’ she said calmly. ‘What are you going to tell them?’

He shrugged. ‘I really don’t know…. I suppose you want me to go?’ Ed said at last.

Annabel shook her head. ‘No, yes, maybe…oh, I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘Look, I need a few minutes to get my head together before I can deal with this. Peel the potatoes, will you?’

‘Course I will, take as long as you need.’

‘Don’t worry, I shall.’

Annabel trudged upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door. She fished her mobile phone out of her jeans pocket and dialled a number. The phone rang and rang.

‘It’s me. Sorry to call you at home,’ said Annabel, when a man finally answered ‘but it’s an emergency.’

‘Oh no, what’s the matter?’

‘Tony, the bastard’s cheating on me. I just found some texts and a photo…’ Annabel’s voice began to waver.

‘Sssh,’ Tony soothed as Annabel began to cry. 'Oh, what a complete shit…and on Christmas Day as well…oh, poor poor, Bel.’

She nodded down the phone, unable to speak as she fought back the tears that had suddenly come from nowhere. She took a deep breath and pulled herself together enough to reply.

‘I know, and his parents are arriving any minute for lunch, I don’t know how I’m going to get through it,’ she sniffed.

‘Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Do you want to meet up later on, after they’ve gone home?’

‘What about Allie and the kids?’

‘I’m a grown man, Bel, I can slip out for an hour so we can meet up. Anyway, her mother’s staying for a few days; I deserve an hour off for bad behaviour.’

Annabel wiped her face a piece of toilet roll.

‘Thank you, that would be lovely. You’re too good to me, babe, what did I ever do to deserve a man like you?’

Tony laughed. ‘Wasn’t it something to do with the third bottle of wine at last year’s Christmas party?’

She smiled and wiped the rest of her tears away. ‘Can you text me, when the coast is clear later on?’

‘I promise. Now blow your nose, wash your face and knock ‘em dead!’

‘Sadly there’s a law against that, but I’ll do my best.’

‘Good girl…love you.’

‘Love you too. I knew you’d understand.’ Annabel laughed and hung up the phone.

She washed her hands and face and went to the bedroom to get changed.

She put on some lipstick and mascara, did her hair up into a bun and gave herself a critical look as she donned her best black dress and a pair of high heels. You know, you don’t scrub up too badly for forty-two, she said to her reflection in the bedroom mirror.

At that moment the doorbell rang.

‘I’ll get it!’ she called out and walked briskly down the stairs, her head held high.