A Touch Of Romance

A tale with a twist

Maggie poured two glasses of orange juice and popped some bread into the toaster. Phil would be down in a minute, then they could sit and have breakfast together, exchange cards and presents.

Five years today. She could hardly believe it. Time had whizzed by.

As she buttered the toast, she thought back to how impulsive they had once been. Often Phil would phone her on a Friday afternoon and say, “Pack your bags! We’re going away for the weekend.”

Sometimes she was the one who booked the surprise. It could be surfing in Cornwall, walking in the Lake District or sightseeing in Rome. Nowadays, though, they rarely managed to sit down and eat a meal together.

Phil dashed in, his thick dark hair still tousled, his tie askew.

“I’m late,” he said, taking a gulp of his orange juice and grabbing a piece of toast. “See you later,” he called, straightening his tie as he ran out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. Without even giving her a peck on the cheek, let alone wishing her a happy anniversary.

Maggie’s eyes filled with unexpected tears which she crossly blinked back. What had happened to them?

Yougotmarriedandtookona mortgage, she reminded herself as she sat down at the table and half-heartedly bit into a piece of toast. Now all they seemed to do was get up, go to work, come home, flop exhausted in front of the TV, go to bed then start all over again.

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a night out, never mind gone away for the weekend. Phil seemed to have no time to spare for her; he was so busy with his job in advertising that he rarely got home early enough to eat the evening meal together.

Now he’d gone to work without even his goodbye peck on the cheek. Today of all days. They usually celebrated their anniversary with a slap-up meal at their favourite restaurant. This year it looked as if Phil had forgotten. She bit her lip. “Don’t be soft, Maggie,” she told herself sharply. “You know he’s trying hard to get that new account. Stop whingeing about your marriage needing sparkling up and do something about it!”

She’d cook a romantic meal this evening, she decided. She’d buy a bottle of their favourite wine, too – and put her new dress on.

Feeling better now she had a plan of action, she finished her breakfast, put the dishes in the dishwasher and set off for work.

You look chirpier. Is Phil taking you out for a special meal tonight to celebrate your anniversary?” her friend, Clare, asked.

Maggie switched on her computer and shook her head.

“Phil’s working on a really important contract right now and won’t be home until late. So I’m going to cook us a special supper.”

“Well, well, who’d have imagined that you and Phil would turn into a boring married couple just like the rest of us, content to celebrate with supper at home?” teased Clare.

Stung, Maggie turned away, pretending she was looking for something in her bag. Clare hadn’t meant to hurt her, she realised that – but her remarks had hit home.

It seemed that even Maggie’s friends knew the romance and excitement had gone out of her marriage. She felt resentful. Why couldn’t Phil be bothered to remember their special day?

There was no phone call from Phil all

morning. Maggie buried herself in her work and tried to mask her disappointment. When lunchtime finally came she dashed to the shops to buy everything she needed for the meal. Tonight was going to be special – she’d make sure of that.

She kept checking her phone but there were no missed calls, no texts.

He’s forgotten, she thought sadly. He’ ll probably come home so late that all he’ ll want to do is crawl into bed and fall asleep. As usual.

Her sadness was soon replaced with annoyance. What was the point of cooking a special supper? He wouldn’t be home to eat it. He never had any time for her any more. She might as well not exist.

You’ve had a phone call,” Kay, the new legal secretary called as Maggie walked back into the office after her coffee break. “What was his name now?” She looked at the pad on her desk. “Robbie. That’s it. He said can you meet him at Giorgio’s tonight? Seventhirty. He’s booked a table for two.”

“Giorgio’s? That’s the new restaurant in town everyone’s raving about, isn’t it?” asked Clare. “And who’s Robbie? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

Robbie. Maggie smiled as the memories came flooding back. Robbie’s laughing, sun-tanned face, warm brown eyes gazing into hers, filled with love, so alive, so passionate…

“Hey, come back to the land of living!” Clare waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Who is this guy?”

Maggie smiled secretly. “Oh, someone I knew a long time ago.”

“You’re not going to meet him, are you?” Clare gasped. “What about Phil? What about your romantic meal?”

That didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered except seeing Robbie again.

“We can have that tomorrow night,” she said carelessly. “Phil won’t mind.”

Clare gaped at her. “You can’t be serious! I know you’re mad at Phil for forgetting your anniversary, and that he’s been neglecting you a bit just lately – but I really don’t think meeting this Robbie guy is a good idea.”

“Actually, I think it’s just what I need,” Maggie said, determinedly. She turned to the computer screen, ignored Clare and Kay’s stunned looks and started typing up the report her boss had asked her for. Yet her mind wasn’t on her work; she kept thinking of tonight.

For goodness ’sake, Maggie, you’re

“You can’t be SERIOUS! I know you’re MAD AT PHIL but this ROBBIE guy…”

be having like a school kid on her first date, she scolded herself. She couldn’t help it, though. That’s how she felt.

“Look, Maggie, are you sure about meeting this Robbie?” asked Clare as they pulled on their coats, ready to leave. “Phil’s probably remembered what day it is and will rush home early. What will he think if you aren’t in?”

“Stop fretting, Clare. Phil won’t be home until late,” Maggie told her, with a smile. Picking up her bag of shopping she practically floated out of the office.

She put the groceries away, had a shower and sprayed herself with the expensive perfume Phil had bought her for Christmas. Then she carefully applied her make-up, took the electric blue dress out of her wardrobe and slipped it on, running her hand over the soft material and marvelling at how well it still fitted.

Robbie was already at the restaurant. Her stomach fluttered as she saw the familiar figure sitting at the table, the thick, dark hair curling into the back of his neck, the broad muscular shoulders.

Then he spotted her too and stood up, a smile spreading over his face.

“Maggie! I wondered if you’d be too mad at me to come.” She bent over and kissed his cheek. “Of course not!” She sat down opposite him and glanced around the restaurant. “I wouldn’t miss a chance of eating at this restaurant for anything! The other girls were green with envy!” He reached over and took her hand. “I’ve neglected you so badly.” “It doesn’t matter now,” she told him. He smiled. “You’re an angel. Anyway, it’s all over now. I got the contract. I thought we’d do something to celebrate.” He took two tickets out of his pocket and put them on the table. “How do you fancy a weekend in Paris? I want to show you that the old Robbie is still alive and kicking.”

They laughed at the nickname she’d given him when they first met, because of his resemblance to Robbie Williams. Maggie had known as soon as Kay had given her the phone message that by using his old nickname Phil was telling her he wanted to put the sparkle back in their marriage too.

As she looked at him, she realised that it had never gone. It had just got buried under the detritus of everyday life. His eyes met hers and she felt the frisson of chemistry bonding them together, just as strong as ever. She placed her hand on top of his. “A weekend in Paris sounds good to me.” Her eyes sparkled with happiness. “But can I spend it with Phil? I’ve outgrown Robbie.”