Short story: Fifty and fabulous!
A big birthday gives Maria the perfect chance to make some changes in her life
She looked up to see a strikingly elegant figure behind the counter with silver hair and blue eyes
Maria wasn’t afraid of turning 50 – not one bit. She was going to grasp this new decade with both hands, give it a shake, and see what adventures it held. “I might not have the dewy glow of youth any more,” she told her friend Jill as they sipped their wine in the little bistro near Jill’s office. “But I like to think my face tells a story.”
“Yes, one with quite a few chapters – like mine!” Jill teased.
“We are mature women, admittedly,” said Maria, “but do you really think that men of our age are only interested in younger dolly-birds? Surely they appreciate someone with experience and character, someone who has seen a bit of life and knows how to enjoy themselves.”
“I love your optimism,” said Jill. “Sadly, I don’t think women acquire vintage status like fine wines.” “Well, I refuse to be discouraged,” said Maria. “My birthday present to myself is going to be a new signature scent. I’m stopping off at that fancy perfume shop on the way home to choose something that says ‘I’m 50 and I’m fabulous’. Want to come?”
“I can’t, I’m afraid. I promised to deliver Mum’s groceries and then it’s home to tackle a pile of ironing.” “What exciting lives we lead,” Maria laughed as they struggled to hop elegantly off the high bar stools.
The new perfume shop had opened just before Christmas, but this was the first time that Maria had ventured inside. It seemed almost clinical – everything was bright, white and shiny – but it smelt divine.
The gleaming counters displayed dozens of glass bottles in different shapes and sizes. Some bottles were tall and sleek while others were curvy – just like the women who bought them, thought Maria.
An immaculately groomed female assistant was talking to a couple of college girls. Maria watched as they asked for a sample. She expected them to hold out their wrists for a spritz from the bottle, but no – the assistant sprayed what looked like a strip of paper instead. After wafting it about in the air, she handed it to the girls to sniff. The assistant wrote the name of the perfume on the end of the paper before making them another sample. “So that’s how it’s done these days,” Maria muttered to herself.
“Can I help you with anything?” a man’s voice asked.
She looked up to see a strikingly elegant figure behind the counter in front of her. He was around the same age as her and his silver hair and blue eyes, set off by a golden suntan, reminded Maria of Terence Stamp.
“I’m looking for a new perfume,” she managed to blurt out, suddenly feeling much less confident. “Or should I say scent? I’m not sure what people call it these days. I’m afraid I have just been using whatever my friends and family bought me for birthdays and Christmas. Now it’s my birthday – a big one – and I thought it was time to, you know, make some sort of statement.”
Maria thought she saw the man’s mouth twitch as he suppressed a smile. She had made a fool of herself already.
“I usually talk about fragrances,” he said. “But you’ve come to the right place. We stock just about every product on the market whether you are looking for something contemporary or classic. I can talk you through a few options and you can tell me what appeals to you.” The man’s name was Vincent and he certainly seemed to know everything there was to know about fragrances. “Try this,” he said, holding out a paper strip for Maria to smell. “This is perfect for a woman who never settles for second best. She works hard and plays hard.” Maria sniffed dutifully.
“Or this,” he continued, handing her another. “This is bursting with energy, for a woman who is effervescent and dynamic. She’s lots of fun, but still gets things done.”
He watched her carefully, trying to judge her reaction. Maria sniffed again, trying to assume what she hoped was a suitable expression.
“Or how about this?” Vincent asked, offering a third strip of paper. “This is more sensual, it murmurs lips stained with blackberries, the gentle crash of waves on a beach, a woman with an appetite for life.”
He had come round the counter and was standing so close she could feel the hairs stand up on the nape of her neck. “What fragrance are you wearing at the moment?” he asked. “It’s very distinctive. No, don’t tell me. I’m getting vulnerability… purity. It has wonderfully clean fresh notes that make one want to take care of you.”
Before Maria could answer, Vincent said: “Good heavens, did I say that out loud? I do apologise!” He stepped back in genuine embarrassment and Maria gave a dignified little cough to cover the awkward moment.
“I’m so sorry!” Vincent said, recovering his composure. “I’m just so tuned in to fragrances and yours is extraordinarily evocative.”
“So what perfume were you wearing?” Jill asked when she called round for coffee at the weekend. “Ha!” Maria laughed. “I wasn’t wearing perfume at all, but I always carry a bottle of baby lotion in my handbag to moisturise my hands. I’d squirted out a bit too much so I rubbed the excess on the back of my neck.” “So that distinctive fragrance of vulnerability and purity was because you smelled like a baby!” Jill giggled. “Yes,” said Maria. “Which means that Vincent really does have a very good nose and all that stuff about effervescence and crashing waves might not be as preposterous as it sounds.” “Then he asked you to meet him for a coffee so he could figure out your perfume? That’s a chat-up line I’ve never heard before!”
“We met last night,” Maria replied with big smile. “And he has asked me out for a drink next Thursday.”
“And have you revealed the secret of your unique fragrance yet?”
“Oh yes. We sorted that one out right from the start. I told him I’m not looking for a man who wants to take care of me.
‘I’m so sorry!’ Vincent said. ‘I’m so tuned in to fragrances and yours is so extraordinarily evocative’
Of course, it is lovely to be taken care of, but I want someone to share adventures with while I still can. Luckily, Vincent feels the same way.”
“Gosh,” said Jill. “You really are kicking off your new decade in style.” “Great, isn’t it?” Maria laughed. “And now that Vincent is getting to know me better, he says he has found me the perfect signature fragrance.”
“I’m guessing it’s not boring old Chanel No 5?”
“It’s called Cinquante. Even 50 sounds better when you say it in French. I’m not going to be merely fabulous, I’m going to be fabuleuse!”
“Hmm,” mused Jill. “I’d planned to clean the windows today, but I’m having a change of heart. Do you think Vincent could fit me in for a consultation?”
About our author
Eirin, who writes novels about family life as well as short stories, is a keen reader and lists the Adrian Mole diaries among her all-time favourite books.