Saturday Night at Gino's

 ‘We have all the time in the world,’ Sean whispered across the table, gradually withdrawing his hand from hers.

 For Sadie, the tiny table had just gotten so much wider, and she felt as if she sat so much further from him now.

 She swallowed hard, focusing her eyes on the blood – red napkin laying in a crumpled heap next to her plate of barely – eaten Bolognese. She hoped it would help her to fight the tears back. A rising nausea began to overwhelm her, and she reached hurriedly for the tall glass of table – water.

 Sean wasn’t suffering from the same affliction: he ploughed another enormous forkful of penne pasta through his lips, simultaneously surveying the plate with his brown eyes, planning the content of his next mouthful.

 Suddenly, Sadie despised the way his jaw moved side to side between bites. It looked ridiculous and she hoped other restaurant goers in Gino’s would find it ridiculous too.

 She couldn’t eat.

 ‘It’s been eight years Sean. I thought, what with you getting that promotion and with losing the.. the baby, well…’

 Sean’s chewing ceased, as his eyes looked at her through their long lashes. He swallowed his mouthful too slowly – he was thinking how to answer.

 ‘That’s all the more reason not to, surely,’ he half – chortled. ‘ Haven’t we been through enough lately? Think about it,’ he insisted, shaking his head. ‘I need another bottle – red or white?’

 ‘I don’t care,’ Sadie sighed, her eyes morphing briskly from a glance to a hard stare. ‘You choose, you usually do.’

 Sean motioned his hand to our waiter, brimming with confidence through his careless wave. 

 ‘Another Malbec and a clean glass – two clean glasses.’

 Our white- gloved waiter with shiny black hair and too much self – tan, acted on command, lifting our empty wine glasses with one swift move from the table.

 ‘Of course Sir.’

 While Sean continued to empty his plate, Sadie wondered if he would even notice she’d stopped eating.

   Soon, she allowed herself to watch the other people nearby; there was a lot to see, as it was a Saturday evening and no table had been left empty. The atmosphere was quietly jolly, warm and had a tangible continental feel. Which is why Sadie and Sean had made a habit of frequenting the Italian establishment for celebrations of any kind. Besides, it was suitably close from home so they could have a few alcoholic drinks without the need for an Uber. And thankfully Spring had come; having to  battle fierce winter winds, snow and rain on their walks, had passed.

 The couple to the left of Sadie were so young – very early twenties at a guess. First date, maybe, Sadie mused. The boy, who was awfully skinny but was fortunate enough to have cute features, leaned in towards the girl; so attentive and interested. His broad smile didn’t slip into a complacent line at any point, while she talked and talked at him. Sadie couldn’t quite hear the conversation, but she could hear ‘I’ used many times over. Sadie thought back to her fair run of dates and shuddered inwardly at the memory.

  Sadie glanced briefly at the girl’s face, instantly recognising the natural order of things between this new couple: she was incredibly, undeniably attractive. The ‘No Man Would Say No’ kind. And despite the fact that it was a restaurant where most customers would put thought into their attire, this girl hadn’t. Why? Because her face enabled her to get away with not trying.

 Sadie’s experience had taught her this; that this girl held the cards. The boy had none or very few in his hand, at best. Which was why he’d come dressed in a fitted suit and polished shoes. And she wasn’t prattling on about herself due to being a bundle of nerves, which is what Sadie used to do. No. Miss attractive was talking non – stop about herself, as she hadn’t yet realised that there was a man, with a whole life of his own, sitting opposite her. 

  He was clearly so captivated by his date’s appearance that Sadie would bet he’d do anything to be with her. Boredom, no doubt, would be the price he’d have to pay. Among other costly things.

 Sean leaned forward to fill her clean glass with wine. She’d not even noticed the return of their waiter.

 ‘What are you looking at?’ Sean muttered. He’d cleared his entire plate of pasta.

 ‘Nothing.’

 ‘You’re people watching again,’ he huffed, pursing his lips tightly.

 ‘So? Everyone does it. You do it as well Sean. There’s no one on Earth who doesn’t. It’s natural.’

 ‘Yeah, but I don’t judge,’ he shrugged, taking an absurdly large glug of the Malbec. ‘There’s a difference.’

 ‘Of course, you’re right. I’m silly and fickle, you’re – hmm, just the best.’ Sadie’s smile had laced itself with poison. Her earlier sadness had had time to ruminate and anger sparked from the core of her stomach like severe indigestion. Her hand reached for the napkin and instinctively sent it flying across the table.

 Nearly knocking the wine glass from his hand, Sean instantly grabbed its curves with both.

 ‘Maybe you shouldn’t finish that glass after all, Sadie,’ he suggested in a low rumble, like thunder bubbling up in the distance. His eyes mimicked her fixed stare.

 Sadie chewed her inside cheek fiercely, hoping to make it bleed. She could hear her heartbeat drum in her ears, too - quick and disturbed.  It was all coming apart; everything she had worked so hard for began to disintegrate yet she had no power to reverse time – all she wanted in that moment was to wind it back ten minutes: to the moment just before she’d asked Sean if they could get married.

 She reached for her glass and took several mouthfuls, as if it were a pint of wholesome milk.

 ‘Nice,’ he quipped, ‘That’s just so bloody typical.’

 ‘Well you’re being typical; why shouldn’t I?’

  Sean began to forget himself, raising his voice to a noticeable pitch.  ‘What d’you mean by that?’

The people sitting at the tables surrounding theirs, began to quieten. Sadie knew they were tuning in. She shifted her eyes left to right, signalling to him to quieten down.

Sean bit his lip, shifted his eyes from her and twirled his wine glass as if in sudden deep contemplation.

 ‘This was meant to be a good night out, remember? You suggested it. And now you’re miserable, but it’s you who’s backed me into a freakin’ corner Sade’.

 Sadie’s ears burnt at these words.  ‘A what?’

‘A corner.’ He wouldn’t look at her.

 ‘I’m making you feel trapped?’

Sean’s hands moved to support the back of his head as he leant back on his chair.  Sadie wanted him to fall backwards, smash his head on the tiled floor and bleed to death.

 ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Not here. It’s not the right place to do this.’ His voice crackled in the dry heat which Sadie now felt, groping at her skin. She took another large mouthful of the dry red wine.

 ‘Not the right place to do what,  Sean? To break up? Is that what you want to do?’

 It was no good trying to restrain the saltwater pouring in two steady streams from her eyes now. She felt the sting of her mascara mixing with her tears on their surface. Yes, their relationship had now progressed to past tense. They had fallen apart. She wished she hadn’t thrown her napkin – there was nothing to dry her cheeks with. Her hands would have to do.

 ‘Oh Christ!’ he exclaimed, ‘Let’s just make a scene in here instead then! I didn’t say we should break up.’

  Sadie couldn’t stand the heat any longer, nor the setting. She didn’t have a clue where she wanted to be. In reality,  she had nowhere to go.  Most people watched her as she bolted from the restaurant, weaving herself through the maze of chairs, tables, waiters, waitresses and customers, not caring if she knocked any of them aside in her wake.

 In a few short months, she had managed to lose it all. Her baby, the love of her life and now she was facing losing her home too.

Sadie undid the buckles on her strappy high – heels and pulled them from her feet, leaving them, stranded, on the pavement facing Gino’s. Her bare feet carried her forward, right through the high street where throngs of young night clubbers queued. She glanced at the young girls, remembering herself back then. The contrast made her feel old and ashamed. Flipping her hood up , she slipped by all of them without being noticed at all. That was alright; she wanted to disappear.

‘A corner’, her voice sobbed. ‘A corner.’ She repeated this as though her mind had gotten caught in a loop.

 She hoped she would hear his footsteps marching heroically up to her from behind. As he used to. But there were no footsteps, just those of strangers. Until the quietness outweighed the Saturday night din, as she stood at the rivers edge.

 Sadie tasted the wine and salt on her quivering lips. Ordinary things always meant too much, to her at least.

 ‘A corner,’ were her last words as she let the steady river’s current take her. At least it wanted her. Finally, she would always belong.

Author – Eleanor Jane Winstanley