I put two lipsticks in my clutch bag, one pillar-box red, reserved for nights I was going ‘out, out’, the other a nude, for when the evening was winding down. Still, I figured, tonight might end with me in red. It was, after all, the penultimate night before our wedding, and I wasn’t ever intending to do this again.
Mum, Dad, Stuart and Laura were already in the bar of The Ivy when we arrived. Mum, cheeks flushed, happily raised a champagne saucer to us as our coats were taken.
‘Eh up, your mum’s on the sauce already.’ Adam laughed.
‘It’ll likely be prosecco, rather than the real stuff,’ I said. ‘At least until she knows we’re paying.’
The evening would have been perfect, had it just been the six of us, but the dark cloud of Pammie’s impending arrival hung low over me. I could feel my body stooping as each minute passed, the weight on my shoulders bearing down heavily.
Half an hour after our agreed meeting time, Pammie made her entrance, with James at her side.
Seeing him ravaged my brain with confusion, but I refused to give in to it. Tonight, I was going to be the epitome of self-control.
‘Good to see you,’ I said to James. His lips seemed to settle on my cheek for just a second too long.
‘Good to see you, too,’ he said quietly. ‘How are you?’
‘Everything’s just great,’ I said, conscious of relaying the same sentiment with my eyes. ‘Chloe not joining us?’ I asked, looking around him.
‘No, afraid not. Thought Mum had let you know?’
I shook my head and raised my eyebrows.
‘We’ve gone our separate ways,’ he said.
‘Oh, sorry to hear that,’ I mustered.
‘It’s for the best,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t right, she wasn’t the one.’
‘You never know,’ I said, almost cheerily. ‘She might have been.’
‘Don’t think so. You know when it’s right, don’t you?’ His eyes bored into mine.
I ignored him and turned to greet Pammie. Her mouth was held firm in a thin, tight line.
‘Pamela, how lovely,’ I enthused. ‘Isn’t this exciting?’
We both knew my words were dripping with sarcasm, but nobody else would have noticed.
‘Emily.’ She scowled. I waited for the comment I was sure would follow: about how much weight I’d put on, or lost, depending on her mood; about the colour of my hair, which was a little lighter than normal; or about the dress I was wearing. For the first time I actually felt ready for it, but nothing came.
‘Darling,’ she said, turning to Adam and hugging him, but her mouth remained pinched, as if she was keeping it clamped shut for fear of what might come out of it if she didn’t.
‘Mum, how are you?’ he said, embracing her warmly.
Her eyes shot down to the floor. ‘Could be better,’ she said glumly. I silently pleaded with Adam not to ask, not to give her the satisfaction. Mum spilling the contents of her glass as she lifted herself off her bar stool seemed to be the answer to my prayers.
‘Oops, sorry,’ she said, regaining her balance. ‘I hadn’t realized I was so high up.’
Adam laughed as he took the glass from her and guided her by the elbow to our table. Pammie’s joyless face could only follow. You had to hand it to her. She’d already created an atmosphere without barely saying a word.
‘So, you all ready?’ Mum asked eagerly, even though the answer remained the same as the three other times she’d asked me that day. But she was excited, and it was infectious. I’d rather that than be bearing the heavy load that Pammie had walked in with. Adam could carry that burden.
‘Yes, we’re all ready,’ I said. ‘There were a few niggles at the beginning of the week, but we straightened them out, and I can’t see what can go wrong between now and Saturday.’ I touched the wooden underside of the table. ‘There’s only one day left.’
‘I wouldn’t be too confident,’ interjected Pammie dourly. ‘The day I married my Jim, the band didn’t turn up. We’d booked an Abba tribute act, only to find out after dinner that they weren’t coming.’
Adam laughed, no doubt trying to lighten her mood. ‘So, what happened, Mum?’
‘They sent a replacement along,’ she went on, her voice level, without its usual lifts and lilts. ‘But they were something akin to Black Sabbath.’
The table fell about laughing, but Pammie’s face didn’t crack. Her abject misery was a formidable feat, even for her.
She looked down into her lap, wringing her hands. Here we go, I thought to myself, though there was every chance I said it out loud, as Adam turned to look at me.
Pammie doing what Pammie does best.
I wasn’t going to validate her attention-seeking by asking what was wrong, but Mum, naive to her ways, asked the question instead.
‘Oh, Pammie, what on earth’s the matter?’
She shook her head and wiped away an errant tear, the only one she could manage to squeeze out.
‘It’s nothing,’ she bleated, in her unique ‘don’t worry about me’ way, that I was now adept at translating into ‘everybody worry about me’. I was beyond bored of it.
I drained my champagne saucer, and the attentive waiter was refilling it before I’d even put it back on the table. ‘Oh well, chin up, P,’ I said, raising my glass, ‘it could be worse.’
‘Emily,’ chastised Mum.
‘I don’t think so,’ murmured Pammie, her voice barely audible.
I laughed theatrically, like a pantomime dame. ‘Why’s that then?’ I asked, putting the spotlight directly on her, right where she liked it. Let’s give it to her, I thought, get it over and done with, and move on with the evening. Maybe then we can make it about Adam and me, like it’s supposed to be.
‘Em,’ said Adam quietly. ‘Knock it off.’
‘No, come on, Pamela,’ I went on, ignoring him. ‘What’s up?’
She looked down again, supposedly embarrassed by the scene she was causing.
‘I wasn’t going to bring it up tonight,’ she said. ‘It didn’t seem right.’
‘Well, we’re all ears now, so you may as well,’ I said.
She fiddled nervously with her necklace, her eyes not meeting any of ours, darting instead over the busy restaurant beyond.
‘I’m afraid I have some rather bad news,’ she croaked, working extra hard to push another tear out.
Adam let go of my hand to hold hers.
‘What is it, Mum? You’re scaring me.’
‘I’ve got cancer, son,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to tell you tonight. I didn’t want to ruin your special evening.’
The table fell into stunned silence. Mum sat there open-mouthed, and the rest of my family looked away awkwardly. James bowed his head, as if he was already privy to this information. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘Oh my God.’ I couldn’t tell who the words had come from. My world had become hazy, everything moving in slow motion.
‘What? How?’ It was Adam.
‘It’s breast cancer,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s stage three, so there’s still a sliver of hope.’
‘How long have you known? Who – where have you been?’ asked Adam, his questions all merging into one.
‘I’m being well looked after, son. I’ve got a wonderful consultant at the Princess Royal Hospital.’
‘What are they doing?’
‘They’re doing all they can. They’ve done lots of tests, and I’ve had a biopsy.’ She grimaced and put a hand to her chest for added effect. ‘They’re still not sure how far it’s spread. I really didn’t want to mention it tonight. Come on, let’s not ruin this special evening.’
I couldn’t even form the words I wanted to say in my head, let alone attempt to say them out loud, but that was probably for the best.
‘So, when will they know more?’ said Adam. ‘When will we know what we’re dealing with?’
‘I’m going to have treatment, for sure,’ she said, ‘but they don’t yet know how long for.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘Or if, indeed, it’s even worth having at all. But you’ve got to take everything they throw at you, haven’t you? Who’s to say what little miracles might happen.’
Adam’s head dropped into his hands.
‘But come on,’ she said, suddenly upbeat. ‘Let’s forget about all that now. This is Adam and Emily’s time. We won’t know any more until you’re back from your honeymoon.’
‘We won’t be going anywhere until you’re through this,’ said Adam.
‘What?’ I heard myself ask.