A Blessing In Disguise by Elvi Rhodes Page B

her grandparents; half-term, which is coming up soon. Christmas, summer, and so on. Why haven’t I seen this before? Answer: because I wanted her to myself; I wanted her to fit in with my ways. I wanted my ideas to be her ideas.
    â€˜Then why don’t you go up and tell her?’ my mother suggests. ‘She might still be awake.’
    She isn’t awake. She’s fast asleep. There are tear stains on her cheeks and her expression, even in sleep, is troubled. I sit by the bed and stroke her hair and her face, feeling an absolute cow. I don’t mean to wake her, but I’m pleased when she stirs, and opens her eyes and sees me.
    â€˜It’s all right,’ I tell her. ‘You can go with Grandma and Grandpa in the morning, I’ll see you at the weekend. And don’t worry, it’s all going to work out. You’ll see!’
    Still more than half asleep, but clearly taking in something of what I’ve said, she gives me a small smile. Then she closes her eyes and is back in the Land of Nod.
    I think I might actually have got something right!
    I stay a little while in case she wakens again, thinking about the evening. Thankfully Emmeline and the baby, and then Becky, helped to keep Miss Frazer out of my mind for a little while, but when I go to bed what then? Becky doesn’t waken again. I go downstairs. Half-an-hour later the phone rings. It’s Sonia Leyton.
    â€˜Look,’ she says, ‘I know it’s frightfully short notice and you mightn’t be able to get anyone to stay with Becky, but I did wonder if you could make it for supper on Friday, here? But never mind if you can’t, there’ll be other times.’
    â€˜Oh, but I can!’ I tell her. ‘Becky’s going to her grandparents.’
    â€˜Fine!’ Sonia says. ‘Around seven-thirty, then? Just a few of us!’

6
    What shall I wear? It’s already Friday, the dinner’s this evening and I’m in a bit of a tizz because I still haven’t decided. Some people seem to be surprised that, being what I am, I’m interested in fashion. I do believe they think I wear clothes simply to keep out the cold. Not true! But what
do
people wear when they go out to dinner in Thurston? Velvet trousers, smart tops? Skirts – long or short? Skimpy little dresses with spaghetti straps – well I don’t have any of those, do I? A little black number? Common sense tells me that the dress code here will be much the same as it was in Clipton which, if it was referred to at all, was described as ‘smart casual’, whatever that means.
    â€˜Does that mean I have to wear a suit?’ Philip would ask. He wasn’t into suits. On the other hand, he didn’t like to be different.
    Smart casual is more easily defined for men than for women, I reckon. They can let go and wear a fancy shirt. Sometimes in Clipton the men’s clothes would be more flashy than the women’s. I guess for the women smart casual rules out jeans and tee shirts at one end and strapless ball gowns at the other, but take your pick of the whole range in between.
    My choice is limited by what’s in my wardrobe, which at the moment is not a lot and most of it’s dated. In the last year or two I’ve got out of the habit of going out to meals. As Philip’s illness progressed the only company he wanted was his family, and after he died I think people were wary about inviting me. Women friends would ask me to tea (I don’t do tea) but seldom to dinner parties. Perhaps there was a feeling – it’s not uncommon – that a recently widowed, moderately attractive woman would have an eye on their husbands. Certainly not true in my case. How could anyone compare to Philip? I daresay they also thought I might be depressing company, that if someone said the wrong thing I might dissolve into tears at the table. I wouldn’t have, and there were times when I’d have liked to have