Nine Red Roses… Her Mother Dropped In for a Few Hours, and He Knew He Couldn’t Take It: Said He…

Nine Red Roses

The mother-in-law popped round for a few hours, and the son-in-law realised early on: he wasnt going to make it. Announced, with as much dignity as he could muster, that he fancied a trip to the sauna. Gathered his courage and left.

But life, as always, had further mischief in store: the local leisure centre was closed for maintenance. That was the final blow to his mood.

No chance he was heading straight back home. Instead, he meandered aimlessly through the streets, ignoring the shopshonestly, what self-respecting bloke wanders round the shops for fun? Eventually, he slouched onto a bench, feeling rather sorry for himself.

Suddenly, a married couple appeared on the path ahead. Looked to be about sixty, nicely dressed, taking an unhurried stroll, arm in arm. They chatted quietly, lost in their own little world.

He watched them, musing to himself. They have things to talk about, still. Ive been with my wife for fifteen yearswe ran out of things to say ages ago. Now, its just quiet.

Right then, he saw the older man stop to gently readjust his wifes scarf, and then they carried on.

He thought, Theyve managed to keep their love, all these years. Meanwhile, we barely notice each other anymore.

His own wife was petite and always tireda member of that noble tribe of perpetually exhausted women, the ones who gave up fussing over themselves years ago and get by with the bare minimum. She worked at the factory and juggled two kids, so the house was a whirlwind of chores and responsibilities. Never stopped for a momentalways a mop or a cloth to hand, dash here, scrub there, still in that ancient dressing gown, hair everywhere.

Smiling had become a lost art, her face fixed in a look of eternal concentration. Hairdresser visits were as rare as a hot summer in Manchester; she only made the effort when it was borderline indecent to step outside.

He sat there, reminiscing. We were mad about each other, once. What happened to that?

He tried to recapture some long-lost feeling and, to his surprise, managed a flicker of tenderness. It washed over him, leaving a warm afterglow. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmed with affection and the urge to do something nice. Right now.

He shot up and walked off briskly, not sure where he was going, just knowing he had to do something. Almost walked headfirst into the florists stall.

Buy her flowers? Shell just call me a fool, tell me Ive wasted good money on a useless bouquet. Should probably get new trainers for Sophie insteadshes got PE and her old ones are in bits.

He hovered, undecided, but the warmth in his chest gave a persistent nudge. Ah, what the heck.

He went in. The girl behind the counter gave him a big smile and a questioning look. He hadnt bought his wife flowers in fifteen yearsseriously, he barely remembered how.

Maybe just one rose? But then something inside him nudged, Dont be stingy, one roses nothing. With sudden bravado (and more than a hint of panic), he blurted out, Nine, please.

Expensive, ridiculous, but it was done.

Leaving the stall, he couldnt shake the feeling that the entire high street was judging him, silently muttering about blokes and their mid-life crises.

He called home, just to check if his mother-in-law had finally departed.

Climbing the stairs, his nerves kicked inthis was a bizarre situation: Shell chase me out with these flowers. If she starts on me, Ill just bin them.

He came in as his wife was unloading a bag of flour onto the table, hands still clean, mid-housework. He approached, nerves jangling; she had no idea what was about to hit her. He paused, fighting for breath.

She turned. Spotted the flowers. Froze.

Claire, these are for you. Just felt like it. Youre not going to have a go at me, are you?

She didnt take them immediately, looking as if hed offered her an alien artefact.

Theyre for you, honestly, Clairefor you.

She took the flowers, brought them up to her face, and managed the smallest, shyest smile. For a split second, the factory, the chores, and the hard-won badge of those fifteen years faded away.

She murmured, almost too quietly to hear, Thank you.

The vase landed in the centre of the table, nine red roses lighting up the whole room. She brushed the petals, then stopped to look at herself thoughtfully in the mirror, smoothing her hair.

Her face softenedworry lines giving way to something more gentle, dreamy. He hugged her around the waist. They stood together, wordlessly, for a moment.

Just for a moment, she paused. Just a moment.