A SHORT STORY - The Bin Cupboard

Rosika would have let her 35th year go unmarked but her boyfriend booked a table at an ancient restaurant where she had wanted to eat for years. He organised a childminder and told her that while he was walking the dog she was under strict instructions to get herself ready for dinner. It was a treat. So she popped on a large load of washing before quickly showering and applying her routine make-up for special occasions. Light foundation, a swipe of blusher, heavy eyeliner that was sure to smudge and whatever mascara was the wettest. Her boyfriend returned and without really looking at her, told her she looked great. He didn’t notice that her dress was un-ironed. Instead, he handed her their toddler and dashed upstairs where Rosika had laid a few of her favourite shirts on the bed to save him some time.

They arrived at the restaurant and she traipsed after him in shoes that had once taken her round fancy offices in the city. But there was little need for high heels in their new village life and she was out of practise at keeping pace.

“Rosika! James!”

At the back of the restaurant was a long table of the playgroup mums and their husbands who were half-way through starters and many bottles of wine. Rosika waved at the table of almost strangers she had met in the last six months as her boyfriend slipped into a chair, entirely uncomfortable with the intrusion.

Sally called out, “We can make space here, join us.”

Rosika laughed, “It’s just a quiet one for us tonight. But I’ll see you on Monday.”

Another mum piped up, “We’re so glad you joined the committee. You must come to the next social.”

“We will, for sure!” She caught her boyfriend’s eye and willed him to keep silent.

Surrounded by kind people Rosika did indeed have a lovely evening for her birthday. At James’ suggestion she joined the mums for a cocktail instead of having a dessert. James was also invited but took his chocolate brownie with him and didn’t get too involved with the chat. On the way home, they held hands and she insisted they take the longer walk to savour extra moments. They first held hands in their teenage years but now with three kids their hands were usually full and unable to rest entwined together. As they walked through the sleepy village Rosika said thank you.

“Thank you for giving me a life that exists in fairytales.”

He laughed because she was drunk and she often got soppy when drunk and he hurried her home.

They silently let themselves in and spoke in hushed tones to the babysitter. She reported that the toddler, the middling and the elder had behaved well. They had slept when expected and two out of three had brushed their teeth. Rosika fell back into the worn sofa with her big toe pointing to the ceiling, escaping from an old hole in her tights. James saw the babysitter to the door and then disappeared into the kitchen, she presumed in search of his nightcap.

“Oh for fucks sake” he shouted loudly enough to wake the kids.

Misjudging the width of the doorway and banging her shoulder enroute, Rosika entered the kitchen to find the contents of the bin emptied all over the floor and her boyfriend holding an empty black box.

The emptying of the bin was easily explained. In their haste to leave they hadn’t told the babysitter about the need to jimmy the bin cupboard door closed to stop the dog getting in. She was a notorious bin raider and had once eaten an action man who was missing a leg. But she was too gentle to discipline so the strategy was deflection.

“I bought you this. I was going to give it to you but not tonight because I didn’t want it to be for your birthday. So I hid it behind the bin because you never take the bins out. I thought it would be safe and now the bloody dog has eaten it. She’s eaten your bloody ring. I’m so sorry babe.”

Things were often found where they shouldn’t have been left in this house.

“You bought me a ring. But not for my birthday.”

She smiled and said, “Never mind love. It’s the thought that counts.” And she went to sleep happy that he hadn’t presented her with an edible ring in front of her new playgroup friends.

In the morning, Rosika woke with a headache from the wine to the sound of her youngest baby crying. She waited a minute to see if her boyfriend would stir but he always took a little longer than her to rouse and she knew if she got to the baby quickly she could stop his cries from waking the other two. One and a headache was definitely the preference to three and a headache. She lifted him out of his sleep sack, forgetting about her bruised shoulder and shushed into his hair. Their morning routine had begun and she went through the familiar motions. Toddler on hip, kettle on, milk in cup, wriggle, down, sip. Back door open, dog out, biscuits in scoop, dog doing a poop. Toddler back up, water in mug, wriggle, wriggle down, hot glug. She checked the back window to take a mental note of where she would return with a little black bag later in the day and opened the door to let the dog in for her breakfast. Surprisingly, James appeared and barged past her to the freshly steaming shit. She watched him pick up the shit in a little black bag and smush the whole lot in hand. He winced. He went to the outdoor tap and with his hand protected by the black bag he rinsed chunks of shit down the drain. His hand pulsed closed and slightly open until there was no more shit. He returned to the backdoor and presented Rosika with a modest and most beautiful diamond ring, set high on a white gold band.

“Will you marry me?” he asked as a waft of dog shit hit her in the face.

She gagged a little and picked the toddler up who was eating a fistful of dog food and she said yes.

She genuinely couldn’t believe her luck.