Today’s Vicky’s birthday, her first. I find it hard to believe that my little girl’s one, time seems to move so fast. I’ve been on my feet since this morning, trying to organise things for tonight. We’ve decided to celebrate with a little party, nothing spectacular, just family and few close friends. Unfortunately we don’t know any other couples with kids of Vicky’s age, so she’s gonna be the only small one there. I don’t think that bothers her much though, she enjoys the adults’ company since she can have all the fuss and attention for herself. So, top of the list are Tina and Craig of course, then we invited Karl, George’s dad, and his partner Claire. My brother, Seb, is here as well with his girlfriend, Mia. They’re staying for a week. Seb’s been living in Holland for the last four months, he’s on a two years work contract with a Dutch firm. Mia’s Dutch as well and, I must say, lovely. I’ve always trusted my brother’s taste in girls and Mia’s no disappointment.

‘If it hadn’t been for her, with all the money they’d offered me, I would’ve been long gone home,’ Seb confessed on Wednesday night, few hours after George and I picked them up from the airport. ‘The first few weeks had been an absolute horror, Adi, and I’m not joking. I was craving for mum’s cooking, for a pint with the guys down the local, or at least for someone I could’ve conversed in my own language with,’ Seb carried on. ‘I was even missing dad’s heated political debates - remember how they always used to end up in angry shouts and slammed doors? – this was how desperate I was. ‘

Sitting in the kitchen, just the two of us - everyone else had been long tucked up in bed: Vicky’s bedtime was long past, George was supposed to get up early in the morning and Mia was just exhausted after the journey - I realised how much I had missed all those long brother-and-sister chats we used to have over a cup of coffee when we were both still living at home. There’s only two years that separate our births, him being the oldest, and we’ve been always very close. That’s why my parents had never told him how bad my accident was.

‘He’s been in a foreign country with no family, no friends around, under a lot of strain with his new job, we were really worried how he’d take it, Adi,’ my mum warned me before she left for home last week. ’Please don’t tell him, he’d never forgive us if he found out.’

Of course I wouldn’t I reassured her. I know mum and dad feel quite bad about hiding this from him, but I also know they did it to protect him, which is understandable. It was enough they had one of their kids struggling between life and death, there was no need for the other one to suffer as well. I can’t even think of what they’ve gone through for the last few months.

‘Hey, sis,’ Seb teased me when I disappeared into his arms in the arrivals area at the airport, ‘what happened to you? You seem to have shrunk since I’d last seen you’ He then loudly kissed the top of my head.

‘Shut up,’ I poked him in the back with my fingers jokingly. ‘It’s not me, it’s you getting fat.’

He just laughed. The truth is I’m still very thin although there’s been almost two months since I left the hospital. And Seb hasn’t got a gram of flab on him, he’s all bones and lean muscle, all to do with his obsession with sports, especially with football. I remember quite a while back, when he was still in his teens, mum and dad were desperately worried that the only career he’d ever pursue it would be running after and kicking the ball. 

Quite handsome my brother is, tall and dark, with beautiful brown eyes - inheritance from my mum - and the largest smile ever. Even now I still suspect that at least half of my popularity in school had something to do his appearance.

Anyway, next on the guests list are Steve, George’s business partner, and his wife, Jenna. We decided to invite them as well since they’re quite close friends. Steve’s quite a character I must say, he enjoys nothing better than poking fun at people. I remember my first encounter with him. I wasn’t even going out with George at the time, we were just living together. He came around the flat one night to discuss few things with George, all to do with their business of course.

‘Steve, this is Adi.’ George introduced me to him when I accidentally walked into the study, unaware that he had guests.

With a sudden movement Steve raised his hands and crossed his index fingers right in front of my face. At first I stared at him confused. What the hell was he doing? Was that some sort of English greeting custom I’d been unaware of until then?  Then I looked at George. He was smiling amused. A second later I burst out laughing: George must have told him about my origins.

‘Don’t worry, you’re safe for now. It’s not dark enough yet.’

From that point we had become friends. He doesn’t miss the slightest occasion to take the mickey out of me and neither do I, out of him of course, when I get the chance.

Jenna instead is different; she’s calm and tender, and well organised, everything that Steve isn’t basically. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more balanced couple before. Well, they’re both lovely people and I like them a lot.

Paul has been invited as well to tonight’s party. He’s Vicky’s dad, we couldn’t have possibly left him out. I even told him he’s welcome to bring someone along if he wanted to. Well, since all the other guests are couples and I’m obviously with George, I don’t want him to feel awkward being on his own.
 I’ve seen quite a lot of him since I had come home - he visits Vicky few times a week – but never on my own, I always make sure of that. The late phone call he made on the night I was released from the hospital has never been mentioned. He didn’t say anything about it and I thought it was better not to ask. I think he has come to terms with the idea of me and George being together, he hasn’t tried to open the subject again since our last talk, not that I’ve given him the chance anyway. And I feel quite, well, let’s put it this way, relieved about it? I know he’s always going to be part of my life since we’ve got Vicky that connects us and it’s for the best to try to stay as friendly as possible. I mean, I don’t expect him to share details of his latest love affairs with me and George will definitely never be his Friday-night pub-drinking partner again, but we need to stay as civil as possible. All for Vicky’s sake. So far we haven’t done too bad I’d say.
He hasn’t taken Vicky to stay with him over night, I don’t think she’s ready for it just yet. And I’m also grateful for not pushing things too fast: when I was in hospital the hardest thing I had to put up with were the nights spend away from my baby and since I came home I’ve been trying to make the most of it.

He told me the other day he had one of the spare bedrooms transformed into a nursery.

‘I hope she’d like it, it’s all pink and fluffy,’ he smiled.

‘I’m sure she would,’ I smiled back reassuringly.

A few weeks ago he took Vicky to meet his parents. I was a bit concerned, I didn’t know what they might say, will they like her?

‘How was it?’ I impatiently asked when he dropped her back home later that evening.

‘Well, we couldn’t leave before promising we would return very soon.’ He was smiling proudly. I sighed; I shouldn’t have worried, it’s impossible not to fall in love with Vicky. She’s such a beautiful bubbly child and I’m not saying this only because I’m her mum, she really is!

 It’s about half past four and I have just enough time to finish the cake, have a shower and get dressed before people are due to arrive.
I decided to go for a quite simple menu tonight: smoked salmon on a bed of rocket leaves, sprinkled with a lemon and tarragon butter to start with. Then as a main course I thought we’d have roast pork with creamy mash and steamed baby carrots, all served with a smooth apple sauce. The desert is the birthday cake itself, the one I’m trying to finish off at the moment. It’s just a plain Victoria sponge filled with fluffy cream in which I’ve thrown few drops of vanilla essence, the zest of a lemon and a jar of sour cherries, the last not only to boost up the taste, but also for their crimson colour, to add a bit of glamour to the cake.

I’m feeling a bit tired, but quite satisfied with the results of my culinary efforts. George has kept pestering me since this morning, trying to convince me to take things slowly.

‘Remember you’re still quite fragile, Adi. Don’t over do it. You don’t want to end up back in the hospital, do you?’ he said earlier. I know he’s quite annoyed by my refusal to let him call Ania, our cleaner lady, and ask her to come and give me a hand. I turned down Tina’s offer to help as well, the kitchen’s my kingdom and I like to rule it on my own, I don’t need assistants.

‘We could’ve always ordered the food,’ George went on.

I defiantly glanced at him:

‘No guest of mine will be ever served take-away at my table,’ I said.

‘I didn’t mean the fish and chip corner shop, you silly thing,’ George laughed. ‘I was talking about a proper restaurant, you know.’

‘Yeah, well, to me it’s still take-away,’ I stuck with my views. ‘Now if you’d like to excuse me,’ I pushed him out of my way, ‘I have things to do.’

Vicky’s keeping me company in the kitchen, sitting in her high chair and playing with a soft toy, while George’s setting up the table in the dining room. Seb and Mia have gone out to get a few more bottles of wine.

‘Hey, are you ok little bunny rabbit?’ I glance at Vicky from time to time, just to
make sure she doesn’t feel neglected. She looks at me, crinkles her nose before revealing her front teeth in a happy smile.

‘Ammm..’ she stretches her arm to allow me to examine her toy.

‘What do you have there? A little teddy bear, don’t you?’ I keep talking to her while turning around and starting rummaging inside the kitchen drawers for a spatula I need to spread the topping on the cake with. It only takes me a minute or two to find it – it would’ve taken me even less, but it looks like my mum had been tidying up while I was in hospital – but when I turn around I’m up for a bit of a shock.

‘Geeoorge,’ I shout, unable to make another move, ‘can you come here for a second?’

In less than ten seconds George makes his appearance through the kitchen door.
‘What’s the matter, honey?’ he asks.

‘That is the matter,’ I looked at him before pointing towards Vicky. ‘I thought you were supposed to keep an eye on her.’

His eyes follow my finger. An all-covered-in-cream Vicky giggles at him happily. Her face, her hair, her clothes are smeared all over with the stuff that was supposed to cover the cake, not her.

‘Oh my God,’ he exclaims, staring at her. ‘What have you done you cheeky monkey?’ He tries to put on a sombre voice but it doesn’t work.

‘It’s not funny, George,’ I say annoyed by the smile hanging on the corner of his mouth.

‘I know it’s not, honey, ‘he bites his lip before looking at Vicky again. I can see he’s trying hard to stay composed. ‘How…how did it happen?’

Well, I wish I knew. I can swear I put the bowl with cream far away from Vicky’s stretching abilities. I can’t understand how she managed to get hold of it.

‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I thought you were looking after her anyway,’ I take my frustration out on him once again.

‘I’m sorry, honey,’ he says, ‘I’ve been in the dinning room.’ A second later he’s laughing his head off.

‘I’m sorry,’ he manages to articulate, ‘I can’t help it. I mean look at her,’ he points at Vicky who doesn’t hesitate to take squealing credit for George’s cheerful mood.
He comes close and puts a reassuring arm around me:

‘Don’t worry,’ he says, trying to sound serious, ‘I’ll take her upstairs to clean her up.’

‘How about my cake?’ What am I going to cover it with now?’

‘Well, how about scraping as much as we can off Vicky’s face and clothes? Do you think that would be enough?’ George says before bursting out laughing again.

At this point I give in. I can’t help it anymore either.

Vicky’s overexcited by the effect her creamy stunt has had on us and she’s just about to immerse her hands into the bowl again.

‘Don’t you even dare,’ I admonish her. ‘That’s enough. Upstairs, now!’ I demand.
She looks at me confused: But, mummy, we were having so much fun.

Once Vicky and George are gone, I take the spare tub of cream I have in the fridge and empty it in a clean bowl before plunging the whisker in. Hopefully that would be enough to cover my cake.

When I’m all done I rush upstairs. I haven’t got much time left to get ready. Out of the shower I start looking for something to wear. I’m too thin for most of my old clothes, but I had been really hoping to put on a dress tonight. It’s too late now, so I go for something less sophisticated, easy to slip in. I put on a pair of silky leggings and a long cashmere blouse, which I fix on the hips with a broad belt. I slide my feet in a pair of knee almost high flat boots – since I’m the hostess I need to be able to move around easily – and that’s me almost done. I look in the mirror: my round shapes seem to have disappeared giving way to bulimic contours and the hunted prey look is still shadowing my eyes. A bit of make up would help I think: an earthy colour shade brushed over the upper eye lids, a slightly smudge over the trace of an eyeliner, a quick blush on my cheeks and finally shining up the lips with a bit of gloss will all have to do. It’s not exactly like I’m on the pull, is it?

George pushes his way into the room:

‘Wow! Hello, kinky girl,’ he says.

I turn around:

‘Do you think the boots are a bit over the top?’ I ask.

‘No, of course not,’ he protests. ‘You look gorgeous.’

‘Come here a second, will you?’ He’s sitting on the edge of the bed. I move towards
him and when I’m close he wraps his arms around me, burying his head onto my chest.

‘You smell nice,’ he notices.

‘Adi?’  he calls me a second later.

‘Yes?’ I ask as I am mechanically stroking his hair.

‘I love you,’ he lifts his eyes up to mine.

‘I love you too,’ I answer as I kiss the top of his head. ‘Go and get change now,’ I pull away. ‘There isn’t long left.’