works of fiction

 

Our daughter Geraldine has grown up.

 

I remember the floods of tears on her first day at school.  Geraldine cried as well.  And so did my wife, Vicky.  A lot.  But here we are, with Gerry, as she likes to be called now, choosing her dress for the school prom.  I say choosing, but Gerry has already chosen in her mind, and so has Vicky.  Unfortunately it’s not the same choice. 

 

The sales assistant is looking at me, probably wondering which side I will take.

 

   ‘Geraldine, darling.’  Vicky calls from behind a rack of pink and pale blue candyfloss dresses.    ‘Have a look at these.  They’re so – so very you, darling.’

 

Gerry winces and turns her back a little as she rummages at the other side of the shop.

 

  ‘What do you think Tony?' asks Vicky, tilting her head to one side.

 

I give a non-committal sideways nod as Vicky comes toward me, her head floating above the pink froth she is holding in front of her. 

 

  ‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Vicky says.

 

Gerry sees her mother in the mirror and heads of for the other end of the shop.  Vicky makes to follow her but I put my hand on her shoulder.

 

  ‘Vicky, just let her choose what she wants.  She’s old enough now.’ 

 

Vicky leans forward slightly, but feels my hand begin to tighten, and she stops.

 

  ‘Tony, can’t you talk some sense into her?  She’ll only go and choose something that, well, just isn’t right for her.’ 

 

I take my hand from Vicky’s shoulder as she turns to the sales assistant. Vicky hands the pink froth to her; she gives it a shake and returns it to the rack.

 

  ‘We do so want Geraldine to make the right choice.’  Vicky says to the assistant’s back, rallying support. ‘Just some guidance – that’s all we want to give.  I just want her to look, well, pretty, but not too grown-up, if you know what I mean.  Just – enough.’

 

The sales assistant knows exactly what Vicky means.  Lots of froth, but not much cleavage; nothing too adventurous.  Just like the other seven she has sold today for grown-up girls to attract almost grown-up boys at their first dance.  

 

Gerry comes out of the changing room at the back of the shop and walks towards us, taking a glance in the mirror.  She is wearing something that is certainly not what Vicky would consider too adventurous. Vicky is visibly surprised, but not horrified.  The sales assistant smiles and nods her approval. She’s seen it all before.

 

  ‘Oh Geraldine.’ Vicky starts, then pauses while she thinks of what to say next. ‘Is that dressy enough?  I mean, the other girls will be - well, we can get something a little more exciting for you to wear.  And you do want the boys to notice you, don’t you?  Have you got your eye on someone special that you want to impress?’

​

Gerry admires her reflection in the mirror.

​

‘Joe.’ she calls over her shoulder.

 

Vicky walks towards her, bends down and tugs unnecessarily at the hem of the plain black dress that Gerry is wearing.

​

‘Nice boy is he?’ Vicky asks Gerry’s knees.

 

‘It’s Joanna, actually.’ says Gerry.