LIDIA
George William stood staring at his trousers and shirt, scowling, and tossed them irritably back onto the armchair. How am I supposed to go out in this? The trousers are all wrinkled and the crease has disappeared completely. Theres a shiny patch across the seat, and besides, hed lost nearly a stone in the last few months, so they now hung off him like an old sack. As for the shirt, it was hardly worth mentioning; what used to be pale blue had faded into some nondescript shade, the cuffs had frayed, and the collar had lost all its stiffnessa complete disgrace! Lidia wouldnt have even let him pop round to the local shop in this shirt, and yet here he was, wearing it to the university to lecture a class of professors.
Hed never really paid attention to his clothes before, and yet hed always been smartnot just presentable, but dapper. Not like now. He used to barely notice when shirts changed, when new suits or jackets appeared, ties, flat caps, or smart broguesjust a matter of dipping a hand in the wardrobe or letting Lidia know that hed need to look sharp tomorrow…
Ah, Lidia, what did you go and do that for? What made you think of such a thing? Hed never expected that sort of betrayal from her! She was almost a decade younger than him, had never been seriously ill, and nothing beforehand suggested anything was wrong. Three days of feeling under the weather with a silly cough. She wouldnt have gone to the doctor if she hadnt needed a fresh health check before the new school year. So, she went along to the surgery with the other teachers.
It was meant to be nothing more than formality, and the surgery was nothing special. But straight from there, they sent Lidia to the hospital, and everything turned into a nightmare that ended completely by Christmas. George William understood all of it with his head, but could never shake the resentment towards that local surgery, as though some part of him blamed them for Lidias death, even though, in truth, they were the first to raise the alarm! Still, it felt to him, in a childlike way, that since it all started there, it was their fault.
Hed met Lidia when, as a second-year postgraduate, he was running seminars in calculus for the undergraduates, and fresh-faced Lidia was one of his students. Odd, really, that he even noticed her! Hed always fancied loud, confident, and striking women, but this one was just a girl really, with rosy cheeks from the cold, freckles even in mid-winter, and short, stubby fingers with bitten nails stained by pen ink. And it was those fingers hed lost his heart to.
He was so taken with her, he hadnt realised how attached hed grown, walking her home, popping in regularly, even making dumplings with her gran. After that, marriage was inevitable. And even though, across forty years together, Lidia had doubled in size, hacked off her plaits, chain-smoked, and eventually became deputy head of a maths school, George William still saw only the same childish hands, the gnawed nails, and his heart would achehed never needed anyone else.
Mind you, it wasnt all roses. In forty years, you see every kind of trouble. George William had his sins with Lidiaplenty of little misdeeds, and two major fallouts when he left home for a while. And Lidia gave as good as she got, running around for three years with the director of the local factory that supported her school. But they had two daughters, and those anchors kept their family ship steady through every storm.
It was unfair, toofirst, theyd been dirt poor and lived cheek by jowl, always in each others hair. Then the girls came along and life became a military operation between music lessons, art classes, state school, ice-skating, and endless childhood illnesses. And now, at last, with a spacious flat, grown daughters living their own livesgrandchildren only appearing at Christmasyoud think they could finally enjoy life, and then Lidia went and did this… Didnt even leave any instructions for how to keep living!
George William was so unprepared that it didnt register, even at the wake, he behaved more as if it were a birthday than a funeral. People noticed, decided his grief wasnt that deep, and gave him little sympathy. But they were wrong. It just hit him later, about three months on, when spring arrived. Then he went thoroughly to pieces, grew thin and withdrawn, and simply couldnt stand being alone at home.
The idea of moving in with either daughter was out of the question: one dashed around the country with wildlife charities, saving dolphins one week and tracking migrating birds the next, while the other had gone all-in with her husbands family, entirely absorbed in her own childno room for her father in that arrangement. So George William started visiting old friends.
Though, you could hardly call them visits: hed arrive ludicrously early, eat voraciously, snooze in the armchair, drink endless tea with ginger biscuits or custard creams, dropping crumbs all down his faded shirt and their table, and then just sit there until he absolutely couldnt justify staying any longerthen trudge home, only to repeat it in a day or two.
He barely ate at home, even though, throughout their marriage, hed been the one cooking. Now, he had no taste for it, cooking just for himself held no interest. He declined physically, looking increasingly careworn and battered, until his friends became alarmed and concluded he needed remarrying with some urgency.
So, tonight again he was being paired off with some Anna Constance, for a trip to the theatre. Nothing new would come of it, he was sure. Even with Lidia, hed only occasionally ventured to the theatrefor her sake. All that always felt false, contrived, often dull, and sometimes plain awful. But Lidias eyes would light up at every performance, shed treasure the programmes, regale him with detailed retellingshow could he refuse her?
Now, these friends whod taken him under their wing kept handing him tickets, sending him out with strange women off through the slushy London snow to these endless, tedious plays, sitting for three hours with an aching back in some stuffy velvet chair, choking on musty perfume, treating his companion to tepid juice and stale sponge in the intervallonging to be at home, to bury his face in that pillow which still, perhaps, smelled faintly of Lidia, or perhaps that was just hopes. But he was too polite to say no, and honestly, he realised he couldnt go on living aloneat least, he doubted he could, though he had no idea why he should bother carrying on at all.
This evenings Anna Constance turned out to be youthful and charming. George William even thought, ten years ago, shed have suited himsomeone he wouldve chased after. She was fifteen years younger than him, petite, tidy, lively, and well-spoken.
Next to her, he felt doubly old and frayed. But she made it clear she was keen to keep up their acquaintance, showering him with suggestions for the coming weekend.
And tonights play was tolerable, at least for being short and without interval. The only thing was, after it ended, etiquette required he invite her out for a coffee, since the theatre buffet was a lost cause. Fate favoured him, though
Anna said her flat was just a short walk away, beside the tube, that shed outdone herself on a roast and a pie tonight, and would be delighted if he joined her for supper. The whole invitation was clearly premeditated, but George William longed for the comfort of a cosy kitchen so much, he didnt even make a show of hesitating.
There, Anna was in her element. Her flat, all spick-and-span and as sweet as a chocolate box, smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, and the lady of the house reappeared briefly in a tracksuit, looking even younger and more sprightly, busied herself about the kitchen, served up a feast, and chatted with easy warmth. George William even thought, how nice it would be never to leavea gingerbread cottage where the past wouldnt clutch his throat anymore, where a new life could begin.
He reluctantly went home, well after midnight. Tomorrow, he and Anna planned a trip to the Museum of Private Collections, then shopping for some decent clothes, so he wouldnt embarrass his lady friend, and then Saturday was to be lunch at Annas. She wouldve rather gone to the countryside and shown him her little place, but her daughter needed the granddaughter collected for the afternoon, so theyd eat at Annas with the girl, postponing the country trip to Sunday.
On Saturday, George William nipped to the barbers early, took five years off his age, and doubled down on youth with a flashy new checked shirt and soft corduroy jeans, bought flowers and a chocolate bar for the granddaughter, and set off for Anna Constances.
Already on the staircase, the smell of roast duck and baking was intoxicating. George William caught himself humming some tune, grinning at his own reflection in the lifts hammered mirror. Anna greeted him with such joy and warmth, it felt as if shed been waiting for a soldier home from war, and escorted him at once to the kitchen.
Wheres the granddaughter? he asked.
Ill call hershes being a sulk, didnt want to come out at all, just hiding in the bedroom. George William set about arranging the flowers in a vase, uncorked the wine for Anna and some juice for the little girl, sliced the bread, and took his place at the table.
Lidia, come and meet Mr. William! called Anna.
He looked up to see two enormous, clear eyes, pink cheeks, and a smattering of freckles across a snub nose. Lidia regarded him with open distrust, chewing nervously at her thumbnail.
Its a wonder I dont drop dead right here, thought George William, rising to his feet and quickly making his excusesFor a moment, George William couldnt move. Annas granddaughterLidia. The name landed inside him with a jolt so sharp he nearly laughed out loud. What were the odds? She stood there, wary and waiting, a small constellation of freckles so like the ones hed first fallen for, and those stubborn, ink-stained fingers curled protectively in her sleeve.
He cleared his throat, choosing his words as one might pick fragile glass from a shelf. Hello, Lidia. Thats a very special name.
She shrugged, suspicion wavering just slightly into curiosity. Mum says it was grandmas name, too.
Anna smiled at them both, unaware of the storm gathering in the quiet places behind George Williams eyes.
He felt it then: not the ache of absence, but a tiny, unexpected click, as if a lock long rusted had slipped open. This Lidia was all her owna new life, and yet that pale bridge to the past shimmered, spanning everything hed thought hed lost for good. Perhaps there was no starting over, not really. Perhaps the best anyone could do was gather up the threads that remained, trembling and hopeful, to try again.
You know, he said to Lidia, I used to make very good dumplings. Its a dying art, dumplings. Would you help me sometime?
She regarded him solemnly. Maybe. If you teach me something cool. Not boring.
He grinned, relieved to find, deep down, that old reservoir of warmth still intact. Deal.
Anna set the dishes on the table; the kitchen glowed golden and alive. They sat together, three generations and a new beginningawkward, hungry, improbably stitched together by loss and chance and names that refused to be forgotten. Outside, just beyond the steamed window, winter hesitated on the threshold, not quite ready to let go. But inside, the room was bright with laughter and possibility, and George William, for the first time in months, felt entirely and unmistakably at home.
