Kate & Alf - Carrie Stone

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have to start wearing dresses and heavier make-up on a daily basis from now on if that’s the reaction I’m going to get from you.’

      He shook his head dismissively. ‘No babe, you always look nice. No need to go changing yourself. You’re lovely as you are.’

      There was a hint of weariness in his tone and she couldn’t help pondering on why he was being so temperamental of late. Feeling a slight wave of the familiar hysteria that had been creeping up on her in the past months, she grabbed a small pot of bronze nail varnish from her top drawer, trying to block the niggling relationship concerns that were sweeping through her.

      Alf was already turning away and opening the wardrobe, seeming not to notice the sudden anxiety surrounding her.

      ‘We need to get going soon, though.’ Pulling a dark-blue shirt from its hanger, he held it up briefly, before pushing his arm through the sleeve. ‘The others are expecting us at eight o’clock.’ Grabbing a pair of jeans and slinging them over his shoulder, he walked out of the room – failing to see Kate’s questioning glance.

      She turned back towards the mirror. The woman staring back at her had lost some of the excited air of moments before. ‘Okay, snap out of it,’ she told herself sternly, noticing that her curls were beginning to drop a little. ‘You’re a team. He’s just stressed with work. He loves you. You love him. You’re creating problems that aren’t there.’ She gazed into her reflection with determination. ‘Besides, tonight is the night.’

      Remembering the freshly chipped nail polish on her index finger, she sat down on the bed and unscrewed the lid of the bottle. Dipping the small brush into the liquid, she carefully touched up her nail, the distraction helping her to feel slightly calmer.

      Minutes later, Alf strode back into the room with a grin, smelling heavily of the expensive aftershave she’d bought him for special occasions. Her stomach danced as she inhaled the woody scent and all at once her mood was lifted back to a blissful place. It was definitely the night.

      Replacing the brush into the small pot, Kate stood up from the bed and reached for her perfume bottle, spritzing herself lavishly and feeling even more optimistic as Alf selected his favourite sports jacket from the wardrobe, placing it on a chair.

      He looked her up and down again as he looped a black belt through his trousers and fastened it a notch too tightly. ‘Are you almost ready, babe?’ he asked, bending over to retrieve his polished black shoes from the stand.

      ‘Yes, but I just need a couple of minutes to let this varnish dry.’ She waved her finger in the air, watching as he tied his shoelaces – noticing with alarm that his head of thick chestnut-brown hair had thinned drastically at the front. She could see the light reflecting off his scalp in places where the coverage was so sparse. When had that happened? Could it be linked to stress?

      She sat back down on the bed, failing to notice as the loosely capped bottle of nail polish was jerked onto its side with the vibration of the movement. He still looks dashing, she thought to herself with conviction. Sure, he was greying quite heavily at the temples, and yes, he’d developed a slight paunch – but not only was he thirty-seven years old, he was also her Alf, the one that had stood by her side through thick and thin for the last seven years. And, hopefully, depending on tonight’s outcome – he would be making an even longer-lasting commitment. Her stomach flipped with nervous energy and she felt herself growing hot.

      Finishing tying his laces, Alf stood upright and picked up his jacket. He glanced at Kate’s uncharacte‌ristically made-up face and noticed a blush spreading underneath the heavy foundation on her cheeks. ‘Are you okay? You look flushed?’

      Caught off-guard, Kate jumped up, smoothing down her dress and reaching for her clutch bag with her right hand. ‘Fine,’ she said hurriedly, looking at her right hand as a sticky substance filmed a layer across the skin. ‘What on earth…?’ she stared down in alarm at the bronze paint covering her palm and fingers, her eyes immediately darting to the bed and her dress.

      ‘Oh, God! It’s all over your dress.’ Stating the obvious, Alf’s stare was fixed upon the unmissable bronze smear on the delicate cream chiffon.

      He looked on helplessly as Kate’s expression changed to horror; a wave of both panic and exasperation taking hold of her. ‘No, no, no, no…!’ She hastily grabbed a used make-up wipe and tried to erase the seeping bronze stain. It was a futile attempt. The sticky mess had already formed an inch-wide stain on the material, obvious for all to see. ‘Oh goodness, it’s ruined, it’ll never come out.’ Unable to control her deflation, she felt the buildup behind her eyes and tried desperately to hold her head upwards, fluttering her eyelids in an attempt to stop the threatening tears from streaming into her eye make-up. ‘What am I going to do?’

      Realising the gravity of the situation and knowing that it couldn’t have happened at a worse moment, Alf stepped forward and placed his arms around her. ‘Come on, it’s not the end of the world. You look gorgeous in whatever you wear.’ He gently wiped a small tear from under her eye. ‘Get changed into something else – we’ll get you another dress to replace this one next week.’

      She wanted to argue that next week was too late – her special moment was tonight –but she refrained. Aware of the ticking clock, she slipped off the beautiful dress that had made her feel so glamorous and exceptional and walked across to her wardrobe. Not having indulged in luxurious or unnecessary purchases over the past year, she knew her alternative options were limited. It was either her faithful black shift dress – worn countless times and a little faded, one of the many dresses she no longer fitted since going up a dress size, or the asymmetrical green party dress she’d bought last Christmas that made her resemble a billowing tree. She deliberated for a few seconds before plucking the black dress from its hanger. It would have to do.

      Stepping into it and pulling it up, she struggled to fasten the awkwardly angled rear zip. ‘Can you zip me up, please?’

      With one swift motion, Alf fastened the rear zipper and Kate’s body was snugly embraced in the black material. She walked across to the free-standing mirror. It didn’t look bad. Just, well… a bit plain.

      Standing next to her, Alf nodded in gratification, a beaming smile lighting up his face. ‘Now that is the Kate that I know and love. You look lovely. Much better than that fussy cream thing.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘This is much more you. Simple, classy and understated.’

      Looking at him quizzically, Kate didn’t say anything. She couldn’t help but notice that his sparkling eyes and happy demeanour at her appearance were genuine. She felt herself rile ever so slightly. His words were not those of dishonest encouragement to make her feel better – they were words spoken from the heart. Unsure how to feel about it, she tried to quickly dismiss the thought. Simple? What was that supposed to mean?

      ‘Okay, well this looks fine – so I guess we can get going. There’s no point me crying over a dress on my birthday, is there?’

      ‘Exactly, babe. It’s a special night anyway – you won’t even be thinking about the dress once we’re out and celebrating.’ A hint of a smile played on his lips and intuitively Kate knew what he was referring to. Her pulse quickened.

      Alf picked up his wallet and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Right, let’s make a move, then.’

      Re-touching her eyeliner in a final attempt to look as good as she possibly could, she picked up her clutch bag and switched off the bedroom light.

      Two years she’d waited. It was just as they’d agreed. Two years in order to allow enough time for travel, the house renovations and, of course, Alf’s career advances. It had passed so quickly – much quicker than she’d expected. It seemed almost yesterday that they’d had the conversation – she could still recall the moment she’d blurted out her feelings. It had been minutes before they’d left the house for her monumental thirtieth birthday dinner. He’d been surprised; she remembered the shock on his face. But then he’d hugged her and explained his reasons for not asking sooner. They’d talked about it for what seemed like hours,

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