“Henry’s accompanied me there a couple of times. But if you don’t mind?”
That man’s name again. Mitchell didn’t like how it made him feel, and she mentioned him so casually, as if he was part of her family. “I’ll come with you,” he said firmly. “I want to do it.”
“And now, ladies and gentleman,” the speaker sounded again. “Time for our Skate and Date. Five minutes with each partner, starting now.”
A whistle sounded. Eleven people stood around the perimeter of the rink and didn’t move.
“I said now,” the voice repeated grumpily.
Mitchell watched as a woman, six inches taller than Barry, yanked his hand like a husky dog pulling a sled. She wore Princess Leia-style hair buns and a silver T-shirt. Barry’s jaw dropped, petrified, as she tugged him out onto the ice.
Liza guffawed into her coffee. “I shouldn’t laugh, but...”
Mitchell’s lips twitched, too, and soon they were both giggling like schoolchildren at the back of a classroom.
They watched Barry until a whistle sounded again. A girl dressed all in orange approached him and they each skated a couple of steps before falling over. When one was up, the other was down, like the valves on a trumpet.
By the time Barry was on his fourth date, his eyes were so full of terror that Liza couldn’t look at him any longer. Tears of laughter rolled down her cheeks.
Mitchell tried to keep a straight face to show solidarity with his friend, but he couldn’t help chortling, too. Whenever he and Liza caught each other’s eyes, they triggered each other even more.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d found something so funny.
When the fifth whistle blew, Barry stumbled off the ice and hobbled into the café area still wearing his skates. “Thanks for your support.” He grimaced.
“You’re not finished. You have one date left,” Mitchell said. “Unless Amanda has shown up.”
“No, she hasn’t.” Barry tore the number sticker off his shirt. “And I’ve had enough.”
Couples stop-started, skating hopelessly around the rink. One lady stood at the side, closest to the café, all alone. She was petite with short-cropped blonde hair and wore jeans and a bubblegum pink T-shirt. Her lips were straight as she looked around for her date.
“You can’t leave her there,” Mitchell said.
“I said I’ve had enou—” Barry stopped, and his eyes focused on the lone skater.
She smiled sadly over at him.
“Barry?” Mitchell said, but his friend was transfixed.
Barry edged back toward the rink, as if in a trance. He skated over to the woman and held out his hand. She took it and they set off together, their feet hesitant but in perfect unison.
Poppy and Rachel joined Mitchell and Liza at their table. “Aw,” the two girls gushed as they watched Barry, too.
Mitchell’s laughter had subsided, leaving him with glowing cheeks and a sore throat. He glanced over at the fridge behind the café counter, to see what cold drinks were on offer. When he saw a woman standing in the queue, his spine straightened up.
She had her back to him and her coppery curls bobbed as she chatted to a friend. Her jacket was tomato red.
Mitchell’s surroundings and everyone around him vanished, until he could see only her.
Surely, it’s not...
He wondered if she had seen him laughing with another woman, and an urge to explain to her who he was with and what he was doing here surged inside him.
He stood up and banged his leg against the table. A pepper pot toppled over, but he didn’t notice.
He was vaguely aware of Poppy saying, “Dad?” and Liza uttering his name, as he stepped blindly away from them.
He could hardly swallow as he got closer to her. What was she doing here? Why now?
As he drew nearer, her hair was coarser than he remembered, and she was shorter. He tried to breath in her violet scent, but could only smell strawberry slushies.
But he still reached out a hand anyway and laid it gently on her shoulder. “Anita?” he said.
She turned and a woman he didn’t recognize, a stranger, gave him a bewildered smile. She was in her fifties and suddenly bore no resemblance to Anita at all.
Mitchell snatched his hand away, as if burned. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
“S’okay.” She shrugged, before returning to talk to her friend.
And smack, Mitchell was suddenly back in the ice rink café, fully aware of what he was doing and who he was really with. His vision of Anita shot away.
His face shone crimson as he excused himself away from the café counter, and he returned to Liza and the girls.
“Dad?” Poppy said. Her eyes flicked over to the red-coated woman. “Did you think that—”
“No,” he replied too quickly. “I thought it was someone from work. That’s all.”
She looked at him with questioning eyes.
Liza bit her lip. “Perhaps I should head off home... Do you still want to join me tomorrow?”
“Um, tomorrow?” Mitchell frowned.
“Yes, to go to Yvette’s place. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to...” she said cautiously.
Mitchell glanced over at the vacant spot in front of the café counter where he thought he saw Anita. Sadness washed over him. “It’s fine. I’ll still join you.”
Liza smiled and tugged on Poppy’s plait. “Great, I’m pleased,” she said, and then was gone.
Poppy stared after her before she spoke to Rachel. “Shall we go home, too? I’m fed up now.”
Mitchell sloped after the two girls toward the locker area. As he waited for them to collect their belongings, his phone pinged with a text. He thought it might be from Liza, but the number was withheld.
I think my brother has your toolbox. If you want it back come to 23 Somerset House, Whitby Street, on Wednesday at 11:00 a.m.
Mitchell knew he should feel heartened by the news that he might get his tools back, even though it was a strange message. But as he left the rink and walked out into the blinding sunshine, he felt himself reeling at his confused feelings.
Anita’s imagined presence was often a comfort to him, but today, it had felt like an intrusion.
* * *
That night, after Mitchell had changed out of his clothes and cleaned his teeth, thoughts of Anita still nagged his brain and he lay down in bed holding on to her lilac envelope. He wondered if seeing her at the ice rink was a sign for him to finally open it, but he couldn’t bring himself to break its seal.