Love In The Spotlight

Chapter 4-1

four

Later that evening, as she was wrapping the lights around the tree, the phone rang. Elizabeth tiptoed across the room, careful to avoid the baubles and decorations strewn over the floor. She picked up the handset and said hello.

‘Mum! It’s your favourite son.’

Elizabeth smiled at the sound of Harry’s voice. ‘How are you? And how’s Thailand?’ She sank down onto the sofa, a mental image of her eldest son floating before her. Dark-haired and handsome with Elizabeth’s blue eyes and dimples, at twenty-four years old, Harry was in the prime of his life.

‘A-ma-zing,’ he replied.

Elizabeth smiled at the enthusiasm in his voice. ‘And how’s your brother?’

‘He’s fine. Great. In the sea at the moment, playing ball with a group of German girls, he said to give you his love and he’ll call you tomorrow.’ There was a pause. ‘Are you all ready for Christmas?’

‘I’m just decorating the flat,’ Elizabeth replied. ‘But yes, everything’s under control.’

‘Is Granddad going to be there?’

‘Yes.’ Elizabeth smiled at the mention of her eighty-seven-year-old father. ‘And Annabel, too.’

‘How is the squirt?’

‘She’s okay I think, love. You know what your sister’s like, doesn’t tell you much about her life.’ Elizabeth sighed. ‘I haven’t seen her since the summer so it will be nice to catch up.’

‘I’m glad you’re not going to be on your own. I worry about you, Mum.’

‘No need.’ Elizabeth gripped the phone, overwhelmed with love for her sensitive son. ‘I’ll be back at work soon, back to normal.’ Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about her imminent work restructure.

Silence stretched between them, she could hear the sound of swishing waves and laughter. How she wished she was away from dreary Britain, somewhere warm, with gorgeous scenery. Maybe she’d do a Shirley Valentine and run away to Greece. How long had it been since she’d actually had a holiday? Four years? Before Martin’s death, when he’d been seriously ill and battling bowel cancer for eighteen months, they’d planned on going to Spain. A last holiday together, but then he’d deteriorated so quickly, those plans had been shelved.

‘Mum, are you all right?’ Harry brought her back to the present.

‘Yes, love.’ She sniffed. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘You’re missing Dad, aren’t you? I knew we shouldn’t have come here for Christmas. Damn Josh, and his madcap plans. We should be there with you, together as a family.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Elizabeth chastised. ‘Your granddad and sister will be here and I have my friends. I’m okay, love, honestly.’

‘Well, okay. I was thinking in the New Year you could come and stop with me and Josh for a week or two. We’d show you the big city lights, go and see a show in the West End, take you on the London Eye.’

Elizabeth chuckled. ‘You know I’m scared of heights, but yes, I think that would be lovely. Maybe in the spring when my holiday entitlement starts again and when it’s warmer.’

‘Wicked!’

Elizabeth could hear a female voice calling Harry, and her son telling her to shush.

‘Go and enjoy yourself love,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’

Harry’s words were indecipherable. The line crackled before going completely silent.

‘’Bye, son.’ Elizabeth cut the call and placed the receiver back on its stand. On the settee next to her was a Secret Santa present from work. Her interest piqued, she picked it up, tore off the wrapping and wish she’d never bothered. Wrapped in tissue was the most hideous pair of slippers she had ever seen. They were a sickly green tartan with white fur inside, which reminded Elizabeth of something her own grandmother would wear. Nestled underneath them was a pair of twenty denier tan tights.

Is this what her colleagues thought of her: old fashioned slippers and tan tights that would suit a geriatric? She had a fleeting thought that they might be off Jane Bates, or worse still, Damon. What was it he had described her as? Reserved? Traditional? Old? As a woman who was coming up to fifty, Elizabeth found his choice of language deeply offensive. Her magazines repeatedly reinforced the mantra that fifty was the new forty, and age was just a number. But Elizabeth’s spirits wilted. The fact was she did feel old. Her bones ached, she was hormonal and riddled with hot flushes and her hairline was peppered with grey.

Martin had called her beautiful, a sexy and alluring temptress, but all Elizabeth saw when she looked in the mirror was a tired, average woman, who had lost all her sparkle. She was suddenly afraid that life was passing her by. Things had to change and with the New Year coming up she had the perfect excuse to alter her life and improve it for the better. Elizabeth pulled out her journal and jotted down her plans for reinvention. Time for change. Time to shake up her world. And it was all going to start on January 1st.