Ivy had been the most unnoticed guest at Megans birthday. The two girls had studied together at the local sixthform college.
Megan, with a sweeping gesture, invited anyone who could make it, but many of the girls were heading back to the countryside for the weekend. Ivy, shy and quiet, gathered the courage to accept the invitation.
She rarely went out, and she had just turned eighteen, the same as Megan. Yet Ivy did not feel like marking the occasion with company
She had no close friends, and her parents urged her to stay at home, to spend the evening with her grandparents, Edith and Harold.
So it turned out, she thought sadly, that birthdays at five and at eighteen are both the same to me.
Of course Ivy loved her family, but she did not understand when she would finally become an adult, independent. When would any lad notice her modest beauty and gentle nature?
She dreamed of love, yet she was embarrassed by herself. She was not as flamboyant as Megan, nor as outgoing as her friend Samantha. The girls painted their hair boldly, dressed fashionably, sometimes even provocatively for college parties, drawing the lecturers admonitions.
Ivys wardrobe, however, was always chosen by her mother, with sweaters knitted by Edith. Ivy resented that her grandmothers oldfashioned garments were hardly ever worn. She could not bring herself to step out in those granny cardigans, reserving them only for home, and then only in winter.
On the night of Megans party, the lads and lasses from college gathered twelve boys in total. When the feast ended and the dancing began, Ivy slipped out of the flat and took a seat on the bench by the stairwell. No one even noticed she had gone. She was shy of the unfamiliar boys, though they had never given her any attention at all. That, perhaps, pained her most.
She glanced at her watch.
Perhaps I should be getting home; Mother must be worrying, she mused. I promised I wouldnt be out late
Suddenly a boy emerged from the entrance not one of Megans guests. He perched on the edge of the bench and stared sadly at the windows on the second floor, from which cheerful music and laughter drifted.
Are you from here? he asked Ivy abruptly. She nodded toward Megans window.
Hows Megan doing? Dancing? Having fun? he pressed, his eyes melancholy.
For the first time Ivy found her voice.
Cant you hear? Its all laughter theyre having a good time.
Exactly, thats what birthdays are for, the boy replied. I, on the other hand, spent the day alone. No celebration, just tea and cake with the family like a nurseryschool tea party.
Ivy raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Thats my situation as well. Are you her friend? she asked, nodding again toward the window.
In a way, he said. Id be happy to be friends with her, but she never notices me. She didnt even invite me to her birthday. Weve been neighbours for years, and she sees how I look after her
He fell silent. Ivy sighed in understanding, then said abruptly:
Dont worry. Im feeling the same. Whats the point? No one sees us anyway. I left, and no one noticed. Im like an invisible man Im there, but Im not. It doesnt matter to anyone
Come off it, the boy tried to soothe her. Youre right, there are people like us unlucky ones
No, Ivy corrected. Unnoticed, not unlucky. Perhaps thats a kind of advantage, a sort of independence, even a freedom.
You think so? he asked, surprised by her calm. Im Paul, by the way. And you are?
Ivy.
They listened to the music for a while longer, glancing now and then at the illuminated windows, hoping Megan would appear and beckon them inside to dance. But no one called.
Its been nice meeting you, Ivy said politely, but I should be heading home. I promised I wouldnt stay out too long.
Let me walk you a bit, Paul offered. At least to the bus stop.
They strolled through the park, talking and sharing shy smiles. Paul suddenly realised that his attention seemed to please Ivy; the blush on her cheeks, the tiny dimples, the way she averted her eyes when he lingered on her long lashes. He began to joke, recounting funny incidents from his youth, hoping her bright laugh would linger.
At the bus stop Ivy thanked Paul and prepared to part, but he lingered until she boarded. She missed the first bus by a whisker and caught the second.
On the bus she waved at Paul as if they were old acquaintances. He lingered on the pavement, unable to move, enchanted by the girl with expressive eyes and cheek dimples.
Later Paul turned and walked back home, suddenly realizing he wanted to see Ivy again. He had taken neither her phone number nor her address. How could he possibly find her again?
The next morning Paul rose early and hurried to Megans flat. He climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell.
Megan opened, frowning.
What do you want now, Paul? I told you Im not going for walks with you.
No, Im not asking for a walk, he stammered. I need the number of your classmate. She was here yesterday. I have something to give her. She left a note on the bench Could you give me her phone?
Who? Megan asked, puzzled.
Her name is Ivy.
Ivy? Which Ivy? Megan hesitated. Ah, you mean Ivy. Right, give me a moment.
A few minutes later she handed Paul a slip of paper.
On the Romeo street, quiet place Ivy, the shy one Megan smiled and closed the door.
Elated, Paul clutched the note like a talisman and sprinted home. He spent the whole day rehearsing what to say, his nerves a tangled mess. By evening he called Ivy.
He invited her for another walk and promised to treat her to icecream. To his delight, Ivy accepted gladly, her voice on the phone even softer and sweeter than before.
They met in the park, shared cones, and learned much about each other. Their temperaments and interests matched surprisingly well.
Now its my turn to invite you, Ivy said as they said goodbye, a mischievous grin on her lips. Next time we wont go to the park, but to the cinema. Shall we?
From that day Ivy and Paul were inseparable. They often went to the movies, visited museums, and after a year they began travelling together, already being spoken of as a couple engaged to be married.
Two years after their first meeting they wed.
Ivys mother declared it was far too early for her daughter to marry, while her grandmother beamed:
Well done, dear Ivy. Youve found your fate and married. No need to chase other suitors. A lad like Paul will treat you kindly, like a child he cares for. What more could you ask for?
Look at her, the quiet one, now the first to walk down the aisle, their former classmates whispered. And the boys beaming as if the world were lit up.
Both glowed with happiness. In each other they discovered understanding, care, and the love they had both longed for.
Years later they smiled as they recalled that bench by the stairwell, the place that had tied their lives together for ever.
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