Carrie Stone - Kate & Alf

She trusted that together they’d weather anything.

It was just a matter of healing. And time.

Spring 2014

Kate smoothed the delicate layers of cream chiffon over her hips and carefully adjusted her jewelled, scooped neckline, allowing a subtle hint of her ample cleavage. She stood back, admiring herself in the mirror. She hardly recognised the woman staring back at her. Her usually nondescript mid-length hair had been expertly coloured a dark auburn and styled into gentle waves, framing her oval face. Her large eyes, although still their matt dark-blue colour, were sparkling with anticipation. The shimmer of the smoky eye-shadow that she’d been rallied into purchasing really did give her a mysteriously exotic edge. Long, slightly undefined but tanned legs stretched from beneath her knee-length hemline. She’d taken Megan’s advice to try a tinted moisturiser and the results were hard to miss; her usually pale skin had a soft, warm glow. She’d forgotten that she, Kate Wilson, could look quite so glamorous.

She felt a harsh realisation wash through her. Where had this Kate been hiding? Where had the carefree, independent and fashion-conscious Kate disappeared to? The girl she’d been before had slowly and unwittingly morphed into sensible, average Kate over the past couple of years. Kate the care-home worker and Kate the home-maker. In a moment of fleeting clarity she realised she’d shamefully got too comfortable, too safe, too conditioned. She had slipped into a stagnant routine and somewhere along the line, playfulness and fun had flown out of the window.

Quickly shaking off the melancholy, she selected a pair of sparkling drop earrings from the trinket box lying open on her bedside cabinet. Tonight was her night: an evening to shine and be lavished with attention from those closest to her. She’d been daydreaming of this party for three weeks – since finding out that Alf had planned something. It seemed like an age since she’d truly been the focus of any sort of celebration and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited about an evening out. It wasn’t for lack of offers, but simply put partying, heavy drinking and impromptu fun seemed to have disappeared somewhere amongst the long working hours and many nights in together. Even the odd nights out with friends at their local pub seemed to lack the sparkle they’d once had. Three glasses of wine and a bag of salt- and-vinegar crisps in a wooden booth at The Red Lion could hardly be considered as living it up…

With a pang of regret, Kate realised she missed this – the chance to get really dressed up and the rush of adrenalin at the prospect of letting her hair down and dancing the night away in unfamiliar surroundings. Tonight she was determined that aside from looking both womanly and – dare she think it – rather sexy, she was going to enjoy herself immensely. It was her thirty-second birthday after all….

Alf burst into the bedroom wearing nothing but navy socks and red boxer shorts that had seen better days. His protruding belly, complete with a dark, wiry hair trail wobbled gently as he scratched his neck and took in the scene before him. He stood transfixed, one eyebrow raised.

‘Wow! You look amazing.’ His eyes swept up and down her body, lingering on her legs and Kate suddenly felt a little self-conscious. It was such a far cry from her regular jeans, top and pumps combination and she knew Alf must be thinking the same as her – why didn’t she look like this more often…? And why on earth didn’t she?

Feeling guilty, she giggled. ‘Thanks! I thought I’d make a bit of an effort. I’m pleased you like it…I might 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.