Of Course, Everyone Remembered It Perfectly

Of course, he remembered everything perfectly.

*”I dont remember because it never happened!”* said Peter Redford seriously, looking at her with his honest, elderly eyes.

The conversation suddenly died down, and they each went their separate ways.

*”Why did he lie?”* thought Grace. *”It was obvious from his eyes that he was lying!”*

“Want me to be your Kai?” eleven-year-old Peter Redford had once asked Grace Holloway, the classmate he fancied.

“Kai? What Kai?” Grace had frowned.

“You knowlike in the fairy tale! The Snow Queen enchanted him, and Gerda saved him!”

“Gerda saved him, not Grace!” Grace had scoffed. “Honestly, do you even know the story?”

“Whats the difference? Grace, Gerdasame thing,” Peter had shrugged, never one to fuss over details. “So, do you want me to be your Kai?”

Grace didnt. Peter was scrawny, with ears that stuck out, and he was shorter than her. Rescuing someone like that wouldve been easy.

But she was sturdy, half a head tallerhow would they look walking together after such a heroic rescue? Embarrassing!

No, thank you. Besides, her heart was already set on someone elseMichael Pudding, the class troublemaker.

As it happened, Michael was standing nearby, listening to their debate with amusement.

Grace adjusted her hair ribbon and, loud enough for Michael to hear, said, “Kai? Youre not even fit to be the reindeer! So, *Kai*, run along and dont come back!”

Michael burst out laughing, and Peter, glancing nervously in his direction, scurried off. The next day, in front of everyone, he retaliated by calling Grace “Grace the Mince”*Ill have my revenge, and itll be terrible!*

Well, what did you expect, Holloway? Not every man can take rejection lightly.

Scrawny as he was, Peter had a sharp mind that more than made up for his lack of brawn. He simply hadnt been quick-witted enough when his crush had publicly humiliated himwho would be?

Soon, the whole class was laughingthe nickname *Grace the Mince* had stuck. It was funny, even if the word “cool” hadnt been in fashion yet.

Of course, when Grace complained at home about the cruel nickname, her parents comforted her.

But one day, her father, helping her with algebra, lost patience when she couldnt grasp the basics.

“Your Peters right,” he snapped. “Your heads full of mince!”

He even added, “Say hello to him for me!”

Now Peter was to blame for this tooher father had never allowed himself such remarks before.

By the time graduation came around, the drama had faded. Childhood grudges, crushes, and petty insults were left behindthere were bigger things to worry about.

They even danced together a couple of times. Peter had outgrown Grace by then, turning into a tall, fit young manhed joined a sports club.

Michael had been sent off to a vocational college after Year 8back then, schools didnt tolerate slackers. Long-distance love didnt last, so sorry, Michael

After school, their paths diverged. Grace went to teacher training college, while Peterlike any clever ladenrolled in Imperial College London.

They occasionally ran into each other, living nearby, exchanging brief greetings.

Then life scattered them furtherboth married, moved away, and visits to their old neighbourhood became rare, only happening when they returned to see their parents.

Sometimes they crossed paths at class reunions, but those events soon lost their charmbetter not to go and ruin the memories.

Over the years, the boys turned into balding, beer-bellied men, and the girls into plump women with lingering ambitions. Grace was no exception.

Never slim to begin with, she grew even sturdierlike a farmers wife from a classic painting, broad and solid. One wrong step, and she might flatten you!

Peter, however, was the exceptionhe remained as lean as hed been at graduation.

By forty-five, Grace had worked her way up to deputy headmistress. Peter was an engineerjust an ordinary working-class life.

Then the turbulent ’90s hit. For Grace, this coincided with her daughter Zoe bringing home a jobless fiancé*were having a baby!*

The world was in chaos, and now chaos had invaded her home.

The factory where her future son-in-law, Jeremy, had worked as a welderearning decent wages with state benefitswas converted into a conference hall and rented out for self-help seminars. Apparently, people couldnt grow without being told how.

Outside the factory, there was nothing to weld. Suddenly, his trade was worthless!

So, off to the market he went, selling coats and jeans*those* were in demand! But first, he had to *train*because, naturally, someone had to teach him how to do it.

Jeremy refused. *Im a welder, not a salesman!*

Pregnant Zoe stayed homenow they were both unemployed.

Grace and her husband, also an engineer, scrambled to survive. She started importing coats from Greecegoodbye, education! *Too much knowledge only brings sorrow!*

Her husband became a courierengineering no longer commanded respect. Capitalism had arrived*well, you wanted it, here it is.*

By the time things stabilised, the financial crash hit.

Grace and her husband had saved some money in dollars. On that fateful August dayone that would be remembered with shudderstheir savings suddenly became enough to buy not just a one-bedroom flat, but a two-bed!

Yesterday, they were paupers; today, they were comfortable. Such was the financial paradox. How many more would they face?

At last, they could move Zoe, her grown-up granddaughter, and Jeremystill scraping by with odd jobsinto their own place.

There was even enough left for a decent renovation. Soon, Grace returned to teachingtough, no-nonsense women like her would always be needed. Welcome back, deputy head!

They even pushed aside the current deputy*too soft! We need discipline, not kindness!*

Grace rarely saw Peter anymore.

At sixty, her husband Michael left her. As a parting shot, he said she had crushed him with her overbearing ways*Im a person too!*

So much for all those self-help gurus.

The new century declared that sixty-five wasnt the endit was *prime time*! *Sorry, we were wrong beforebut now were sure!*

The bitterest part? Michael didnt leave for another womanthat she couldve understood. No, he left for *nothing*, moving into a spare room in a shared flathed rather endure the discomfort than stay.

Zoe had long since moved out, leaving Grace alone.

Work didnt fill the voidher colleagues werent friends, just subordinates. Pouring her heart out to strangers wasnt an optiontheyd only use it against her later.

People were so bitter these days! What with eclipses, Mercury always retrograde, the thinning magnetic fieldnot to mention rising prices! No wonder tempers were short.

Her granddaughter, now in her twenties, visited occasionallya product of exams and adverts, always in headphones, always on her phone.

They had nothing to talk aboutnot that it mattered. No one listened anyway.

At seventy, Grace was eased into retirement. She didnt resisthandling rowdy teenagers had become too much for her.

Her world shrank to the size of her two-bed flat.

Sometimes she bumped into Peter in the courtyardboth had returned to their parents old flats after their deaths. Now they saw each other more often.

Peter was alone too, his wife long gone. He enjoyed chatting with Grace, reminiscing about school.

Today, they met outside the shop and wandered off to talk.

The conversation swung back and forthsimple, happy childhood memories.

Everything had seemed brighter thenlife stretched ahead, full of sunshine.

“Remember when you wanted to be my Kai?” Grace suddenly asked.

Theyd never spoken of it before.

“When did I want to be your Kai?” Peter frowned.

“Year Five, I think.”

“Me? Your Kai?” He chuckled. “Grace, have you lost the plot? That never happened! Look at my earssince when do I look like Kai? And you were no Gerdayou couldnt even climb a rope! A bandit, maybe, but Gerda? Get real!”

“So you remember the rope, but not Kai?” Grace arched a brow, her deputy-head tone creeping in. “Convenient, isnt it?”

*”I dont remember because it never happened!”* Peter said firmly, meeting her gaze with steady, old-man eyes.

Maybe his mind had purged the embarrassing memorywhat was the point of holding onto something that only brought regret?

In old age, everything looked different. A childhood mishap on the potty could fill you with shame sixty years later!

*If I dont remember