The Dinner Party

Six, crammed around our tiny dining room table.

I had spent all day making the lasagne, cleaning the devastation I had left in the kitchen, and preparing the salads.

I was no cook

My mother was the cook. It had always been her domain and to offer to help was an insult to her capabilities.

But here in our little cottage I had been determined to prove my self a good hostess, a domestic goddess, a grown up.

I was hot and flustered, But trying desperately appear laid back and in control.

On the left sat my father and mother, on the right, Ruth and John, my boyfriends parents. And then we were sandwiched between.

I placed a large steaming dish in the centre go the table. I was so proud. The cheese was bubbling and turning brown. And at the edges, a hint of the meat sauce peeped through the pasta, tantalising the taste buds. It looked and smelt delicious. I had made garlic bread, coleslaw and green salad with basil dressing.

“Wow, you’ve surpassed self.” My mother cooed “A feast fit for a King!”

My father grunted his approval, John smiled with delight, Ruth frowned and said nothing.

“Ed,” I said to my boyfriend, “Will you be mother?” In the corner of my eye, Ruth cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Ed ladled large portions to all except Ruth. Ruth was watching her waistline and didn’t want any unnecessary carbs.

My father poured the wine, a red Rioja, rich and fruity. Sadly Ruth only felt like white wine that day, which we had none of, so she opted for spring water (I decided that she wouldn’t know the difference and poured a glass out of the tap.)

There was a little silence when we began to eat . And then John asked my father about his new car and for a long time we sat and listened to the two men talking across the table, discussing speeds of cars, makes, the joys to be discovered under a bonnet and driving.

From the women, the faint sounds of metal on china, and glasses connecting with wood.

I wasn’t really hungry. Cooking all day does that for me. And I felt tired and anxious.

Ed, as ever, was relaxed and smiling, obviously interested in the present male banter.

My mum was smiling, her mind so obviously elsewhere.

And Ruth frowned, she said nothing.

The meal and cars lasted through seconds and it was when pudding was finished - strawberry cheesecake, not bought, but Mums, (our secret) that Ed stood up and said

“Mother, Father, Monica, Colin, we have an announcement to make.”

They all looked at him in surprise.

“We have decided to bring our wedding date forward”

No one said anything and then

Why? Asked Ruth

And she looked at me with undisguised cold horror,