Martin, did you find the posh dinner set? You know, the one with the gold trim, not the everyday plates. Oh, and check the napkins, please I starched them so they stand up like a five-star restaurants, Alice fussed in the kitchen, tucking a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear. The oven wafted the mouth-watering aroma of roasted duck with apples, vegetables simmered gently on the hob, and the fridge was crammed with salads shed been chopping half the night.
Her husband, Martin, obediently scrambled up onto a stepladder.
Alice, honestly, why the pretence? he grumbled, stretching for the box labelled Bone China. Its only family. Mum, Barry, and Aunt Vivien. Theyd eat from mixing bowls if you filled their glasses quick enough.
Stop your moaning. Its our anniversary, fifteen years the crystal one. I want things to be perfect. And you know your brother. If I use plain plates, hell say were penny-pinchers. If theres a tiny chip, were slobs. I want to see him not have a single thing to snipe about. Just once.
Martin made a heavy, here we go sigh as he clambered down. Alice had a point, he knew. His older brother, Barry, was, putting it politely, complicated. More bluntly, as Alice would confide to her mates, Barry was an absolute gold-medal bore, whose idea of humour began and ended with relentless ribbing and boorishness.
Just dont rise to him tonight, will you? Martin pleaded, drying plates. Hes having a tough spell lost his job, wife left him wound tighter than a drum.
Martin, his rough spell has lasted forty years. His wife left because self-preservation finally kicked in, Alice concluded, tasting her sauce. Ill tolerate him as long as basic decorum allows. But if he starts in on me or your salary again, all bets are off.
Five oclock sharp, the doorbell rang. First in was Martins mum, Margaret, a gentle soul who idolised her sons, especially errant Barry. Then came Aunt Vivien and Uncle Ken. Barry, predictably, turned up forty minutes late, just as everyone was staring forlornly at the wilting starters.
He burst in trailing an aroma of cheap cigarettes and wintry air.
Look whos graced you with his presence! Barry boomed, laughter bouncing off the lampshades. Martin, bet you thought Id forgotten a present! Here, catch!
He shoved a lumpy bundle in newspaper into Martins hands.
Whats this? Martin blinked.
That, my boy, is a thing of beauty! Screwdriver set from the Pound Shop. You need it I know what youre like with DIY, always losing the hammer.
Alice mustered an unconvincing smile as she greeted him.
Hello, Barry. Shoes off, please. Go wash up. Weve all been waiting ages.
Barry gave her the once-over, making Alice feel shed dived into a bucket of ice water.
Oho, Alli! Whats this, got yourself dolled up? Fancy frock looks like Christmas wrapping paper. Or is that to distract from the wrinkles? Kidding! Youre still a tasty lass, Ill give you that. All in the hips.
Martin coughed diplomatically. Come on, Barry, foods cooling.
At the table, Barry seized command. He poured himself a generous shot of vodka, didnt wait for a toast, and speared a pickled herring.
To the happy couple! Fifteen years! Howve you not throttled each other, eh? I made five with Shaz and was ready to string myself up. Women, like leeches never satisfied, always want more. Still, Martin, yours can cook, Ill grant her that. Though He winced after a mouthful, Bit heavy with the salt, Alli. Whats the matter, falling head-over-heels again, or are your hands shaking these days?
Margaret attempted a peace-offering smile. Barry, leave off. Alice makes marvellous food. Try the tongue salad, its ever so soft.
Tongue, is it? Barry guffawed. Fitting Alices is sharp enough for anyone! But in all seriousness, Mum, dont baby her. Critique keeps people honest. I always tell it like it is, thats why Im respected.
As Alice placed the main on the table, she felt her annoyance begin to bubble. She caught Martins eye. He was studying the tablecloth pattern with forensic interest, evidently hoping Barrys latest jab would float away on a stray breeze.
Alright, deep breaths, she thought. Just one evening. For Martin. For Margaret.
Hows the job search, Barry? Alice tried to change the subject. You had that interview, didnt you?
Barry shrugged, reloading his glass. Pointless. Interviewer was a kid, asked me about computers! I said, I was working before you were knee-high! Got told I wasnt suitable. Sod them. Might set up my own business. Lend us a fiver till next month, Martin? Pipes burst, real mess, need a plumber.
Alice paused, serving salad.
You havent finished paying back the hundred quid from last spring, she pointed out, steadily.
Barry flushed but went straight for offence.
Here comes the accountant! Martin, mate, is she tracking your every move now? Im asking you, not her! Or is she so far up the pecking order you cant help your own brother?
Martin flicked his gaze from wife to brother, guilt-ridden.
Barry, honestly, things are tight right now. Closed a mortgage, this dinner wasnt cheap
Yeah, I see how youre struggling! Barry jabbed his fork towards the duck. Posh nosh, caviar, salmon. Living the high life. Tough luck for your own kin, eh, Alice? Just suits yourself, dont you. Some family.
Barry, love, Margaret tried, passing him a roll, have something to eat. Alice made everything herself.
Made it herself, did she, Barry snorted. I suppose shes busy making other things at work too, eh? Bet youre popular round the office now youre deputy head. Funny that. What did you do to get that promotion, Alice? Stay late at the office often, do you?
The silence was as thick as bread sauce. Even Aunt Vivien, never known to stop talking, stopped chewing. Martins face blossomed with red patches.
Whats wrong with you? he asked quietly.
Nothing! Just saying what everyone else is thinking! Barry ranted, now well lubricated and even more free-wheeling. Martin works his socks off for peanuts, and what do you do? Chase your career. She only stays with you out of pity, mate, not because youre lovable. Youre a doormat!
Enough, Alices voice was unexpectedly steel, though her hands trembled as she set down the salad bowl. Leave. Now.
Barry snorted. Are you joking? Too much time in the kitchen?
I said, stand up and get out of my house. Immediately.
Its my brothers house too! Barry screeched. Martin! Shes kicking me out, your own brother! Say something!
Martin looked at Alice. Her face was drained but resolute. He knew, if he didnt back her up now, their marriage would be wrecked before the last syllable of crystal wedding. He cleared his throat.
Go, Barry. Just go.
Nothing could have surprised Barry more. Expecting tears, excuses, a row not this united front.
Youre both mad! Mum, look at them! Chucking out family over a bit of banter!
That wasnt banter, Barry, Alice calmly pointed at the door. You insulted me, humiliated your brother in his own home, and trashed our dinner. Ive put up with your nonsense for fifteen years. Thats quite enough. Out.
Well stuff you! Barry leapt up, knocking his vodka onto the white tablecloth where it spread like a bloody wound. You can all choke on your posh duck! Flaming snobs! I wont set foot in here again!
Thats the idea, Alice said sweetly. And by the way, dont ask for another penny. Go get yourself a job, Mr. Entrepreneur.
Barry turned beetroot. He nicked the half-empty bottle of vodka (Waste not! flickered in his eyes), stuffed it under his arm, and stomped to the hall.
Youll regret this, Martin! Choosing her over your own brother! Henpecked, that’s what you are! His departure slammed the door so hard the glasses in the dresser trembled.
Silence thicker than British fog settled on the room; only the ticking clock and Margarets feeble breaths could be heard. She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.
Alice did you need to be quite so harsh? He doesnt mean it hes just, well, impulsive. And had a few.
Alice spun to her. Her composure was fraying, and her hands shook, but she steadied herself.
Margaret, being impulsive is one thing. Being a pig is another. I wont let him turn my home into a tip for his rubbish jokes. You want to pity him, thats up to you as a mother. But not at my table.
Margaret sobbed, but said nothing. Aunt Vivien clinked her fork decisively.
This duck is divine, Alice! she declared for all to hear. Practically melts in your mouth. And you did right. Long overdue, if you ask me. He stood on my best shoes at your wedding and never apologised. Martin, wine, please. I need soothing.
That cracked the tension. Martin, as if waking, grabbed the wine his hands trembling with relief and, Alice noticed, a respect she hadnt seen for years.
Im sorry, he murmured as he poured Alice an elderflower fizz. I shouldve stood up to him.
Alice squeezed his hand. Doesnt matter. Were together. Hes out. Best anniversary present ever.
The rest of the evening passed cheerily, minus Barry. The room felt lighter, guests relaxed, proper laughter flowed. Margaret, after some homemade trifle and two glasses of sloe gin, thawed enough to sing along with Aunt Viviens impromptu Beatles medley.
When the house emptied, Alice and Martin slumped amidst the washing up. Alice eyed the wine blot on her mothers old tablecloth.
Thatll never come out, she sighed. Shame. Mum gave me that.
Martin draped himself over her shoulder.
To hell with it, love. Well get another. Ten, if you want. You were brilliant tonight. All those years of letting him get away with it I cant believe I just let it continue. I suppose I got used to it. Mum always said, Give Barry an inch, hes not easy, you know. And I always did.
I know, Martin. Its hard breaking old habits. But were a team. Crystal fragile, but beautiful. I wont have it smashed by some boor with a bargain screwdriver set.
They both snorted with laughter, tension finally blown away.
Oh, and about the screwdriver set you know whats hilarious? Martin held up the offending bundle. Ive already got one, exactly the same. Barry bought it for me for Christmas three years ago. Probably nicked it back and regifted it.
Alice grinned. Consistency is the sign of a true pro.
The next morning Martins mobile buzzed non-stop Barry. Martin stared at the screen, glanced at Alice serenely reading and sipping her coffee, and flipped the phone face-down.
Not answering? she asked.
No. Let him sleep it off. Actually, I might never answer. I rather enjoyed how peaceful last night was.
Mum will worry, Alice pointed out.
Shell cope. She might even realise I have a backbone. Or rather, we do. Were a team, arent we?
A team, Alice smiled. Federation of Duck and Tranquillity Lovers.
A week later, Alice heard from Margaret that Barry was retelling his tragic exile at the hands of a mad sister-in-law, with Martin supposedly cowering in the corner. But, funny thing family started dropping in on Alice and Martin more frequently, and everyone was on their best behaviour. Turns out, a house with boundaries is the best security system going.
Oh, and the tablecloth? The stain came out, courtesy of Alices grans ancient tip salt and boiling water. Just like Barry gone after a bit of effort and a touch of sizzle. Now everything looked brighter, and the house was ever so much more peaceful.
