One Hundred Names (Special Edition)

‘Congratulations’ written in balsamic dressing at the bottom of the plate.
    ‘Last time we got a free meal,’ Sam said quietly so that the manager wouldn’t hear. He handed Mary-Rose a spoon.
    ‘You’ve proposed here before?’ Kitty asked.
    ‘Oh, no, always a different place,’ Sam explained. ‘A criminal never returns to the scene of the crime.’
    ‘Actually they do,’ Mary-Rose said. ‘That’s the saying. A criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.’
    Sam frowned. They were almost nose-to-nose, they looked so comfortable together, so at ease and yet it was all fake. Kitty doubted that. Somebody must have felt something. She thought about her and Steve, how so often people commented that there must be more to their relationship, despite her persistent denials. They wouldn’t say it any more now he had Katja. She swallowed, feeling a shocking sadness sweep over her.
    ‘But that’s stupid,’ Sam said. ‘Why would they go back to the scene?’
    ‘That’s the point. They are stupid. They make mistakes and they go back or else it’s for self-gratification. They get cocky. Just like you wanting to come back here and do this again.’
    ‘I wouldn’t do that.’
    ‘In about a year I bet you’d risk it.’
    They continued their debate and Kitty turned to watch everyone around her. It was undeniable that the atmosphere had completely transformed since Sam’s proposal. Everyone resumed their conversations but this time it was with more gusto. The energy had picked up in the room, it was louder, there was more laughter, people had fed off their happiness, and whether they believed in love or not they were willing to celebrate on the young couple’s behalf and bask in the glow of those who did. Sam had done more than get a free drink or a free meal, he’d done more than embarrass his friend, he’d lifted spirits, he’d brought everyone around them together, at least if only for a few minutes. He had done something very special.
    Mary-Rose returned home to the sound of the television on upstairs as usual. She dumped her bag and coat on the stairs and went straight upstairs to her mother’s bedroom. She was sitting up in bed, propped up by cushions, watching late-night infomercials. Her new obsession was with the kitchen knives, not the knives themselves but she loved watching the chefs chop at top speed. Mary-Rose read into it that her mother missed being able to be so agile, to chop and cook as she used to, but it could simply be nothing more than a fascination with the speed of professionals. She didn’t like to think about it too much, though she was sure she probably would as she dedicated much of her day to thinking about what her mother could no longer do.
    She greeted her with a kiss. ‘Do you need to go to the toilet?’
    Her mother nodded and Mary-Rose took her arms and lifted them over her own shoulders, pushed back the bedclothes, scooped her arms under her mother’s legs and lifted. Her mother was heavy; it always surprised her how much heavier she was than she looked each time she picked her up. Trying to stay steady, she slowly made her way to the en-suite bathroom and lowered her mother to the ground, where her mother held on to the safety bar on the wall while Mary-Rose pulled her panties down and lowered her to the seat. She turned her back then, her mother liked her to, and she tried to drift away in her mind to give her as much privacy as she could.
    Her mother’s muffled words snapped her out of her tired trance. Nobody but their care worker and her closest friend, Sam’s mother, would understand what she had said – her words were like that of a child – but Mary-Rose smiled, then laughed.
    ‘Yes, Mom, he proposed again.’
    Her mother spoke again, and Mary-Rose shook her head. ‘No. Don’t be silly. It’s just a bit of fun.’
    But for some reason, that night, of all the nights that Sam had proposed, tonight her mother’s comment made her think. A startling thought that for the first time didn’t quite repel her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Three things happened that Sunday to make it officially the worst day of Kitty’s life.
    First, after Kitty had got home from the restaurant she’d showered and fallen into a deep sleep when she was awoken at 2 a.m. to what sounded like an air-raid attack on her home. Outside her door, she learned afterward, a firecracker roll containing five thousand firecrackers had been lit and proceeded, with the loudest noise Kitty