This time, Zelda pushed her plate away. “It might be for me.”
“You?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Why would anyone call here, for you?”
Zelda held his gaze. “I told George that I was coming for tea.”
“Ah, George? Someone else from school, perhaps?” Anthony asked.
“No.” Zelda batted a crumb from her dress. “My new lover. Please excuse me.”
Thomas’s mouth hung open. He scraped his chair away from the table. “Stay there, Zelda.”
Betty felt the atmosphere in the room switch. She glanced at Thomas and watched a bead of perspiration trickle down his forehead. She placed a hand on top of his, but he snatched it away. “Let’s carry on with our tea, shall we?” he said.
The doorbell rang, a further three times in a row.
Zelda stood up. “I’ll get it.”
“No,” Thomas boomed. He hit the table with the flat of his hand. “You won’t.”
Anthony’s eyes shone wide. He fiddled with his watch. “Oh, is that really the time?” he murmured.
Eleanor gave a small beatific smile.
Betty hurriedly cut the cake into ten pieces. “I’ll go and see who it is.”
Before Thomas could object, she slipped out of the room. Winding the napkin tightly around her finger, she opened the door.
A young lady with long platinum-blond hair down to her waist stood on the pavement outside. “Hi,” she said, with a small frown. “Is Ezmerelda here?”
Betty wasn’t sure how to respond. Thomas would not be happy that her mother had arranged for a visitor to call during the tea. She opened her mouth but Zelda appeared in the hallway, behind her.
“You came,” she said, her voice full of joy.
The woman nodded.
“This is my friend, Georgina,” Zelda said to Betty. “I wanted you to meet her.”
“You can call me George,” the woman said and offered her hand. “Or Gina. I use both.”
“George?” Betty repeated as the woman stepped into the hallway. She glared at her mother. “I thought that George was a...”
“You never asked.” Zelda shrugged. “You’ve been too busy, running around after the Lord of the Manor.”
“Now, that’s not fair, Mum. I—” Betty stopped talking as she heard footsteps. Thomas appeared in the hallway with Anthony following close behind him.
“What’s going on?” Thomas’s eyes glinted.
“I asked Gina to call for me,” Zelda said. “This tea thing has gone on longer than I expected.”
Anthony edged towards the door with his back against the wall. “Well, this really has been a most lovely tea, Thomas. Betty, thank you very much.”
“Stay,” Thomas shot out his hand, placing it on Anthony’s arm. “You’ve not had any cake yet.”
“No, I, um, must go. It was lovely to see you again, Ezmerelda.”
“You too, Anthony,” Zelda said, her voice a little too singsong. She slipped her fingers into Gina’s and they held hands. “Come on.” She tugged her towards the dining room.
Betty watched the color drain from Thomas’s face. His cheeks turned from red to white. The air was thunderstorm-heavy as Anthony muttered, “Goodnight now,” and scurried away into the night.
“You’ve forgotten your piece of anniversary cake,” Zelda called after him.
Thomas’s eyes flashed. “Get her out, now.”
Betty gave a short nod. Her knees shook as she followed her mum back into the dining room.
Zelda stood next to the table. She held on to Gina’s hand, trying to swing it back and fro. Gina wore an embarrassed smile.
Dylan raised an eyebrow and Eleanor smirked. Trevor and his fiancée whispered to each other, and Lilian sat stiffly upright.
“This is my girlfriend, Gina,” Zelda slurred. “Let’s all welcome her to the family.” She swept her finger around each person sitting at the table. “Well, of course, you’re all Thomas’s family, rather than Betty’s. Not that we ever see any of you.”
Betty stepped forward. “Mum. It’s time to go.”
“I’ve not had any cake yet.”
“I’ve got your coat,” Thomas said. He stepped forward and thrust it at her.
Zelda didn’t move to take it, and it fell to the floor.
Betty surveyed the scene. Thomas’s relations were sat in a line like a weird version of the Last Supper. “Perhaps you’d like to go upstairs, Lilian?” she said softly.
But her daughter remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes didn’t move from her grandmother.
“Go home, Zelda.” Thomas rubbed between his eyes.
“There’s a couple of things I’d like to say first,” Zelda slurred. She stared around the table before focusing on Eleanor. “I’ve not been allowed in this house for eons, because of your son. He stops me from buying gifts for the girls. He keeps my daughter as a prisoner—”
“That’s not right, Mum,” Betty protested.
But Zelda nodded sagely. “Yes, it is. I can see things for what they are. For you. For Martha and Lilian. Thomas is only celebrating your anniversary to show off to his snobby family, and to get a promotion—”
“Mum,” Betty said. “Stop it.”
“Shhh,” Zelda held a finger to her lips. “It’s true.”
Betty looked around blindly for her husband.
Thomas moved over and placed his hands on the top of Zelda’s shoulders. A foot taller than her, he physically dwarfed her. He walked forward and maneuvered her toward the hallway.
“You don’t think she’s good enough for him, but she is,” Zelda shouted back to the group. “Just because she was pregnant—”
“Zelda. Let’s go,” Gina urged her, following behind.
“Please, Mum,” Betty begged. “Go home.”
Thomas opened the front door. He stood stiffly beside it and pointed outside. “Out,” he demanded.
Zelda glared at him. She took a step toward the door, bent her head, then rushed back into the dining room like a bull charging a matador. She snatched up her coat from the floor.
Betty and Thomas followed her.
Betty watched as Dylan and Eleanor each wrapped a protective arm around Lilian’s shoulders.
“You think you’re better than us,” Zelda said. “But you’re not. Look at you all, fawning over Lilian. Well, what about Martha? Not one of you has gone upstairs to see how she is—”
“Mum,” Betty cried out. “Stop.”
“Well, it’s true,” Zelda muttered as she wrestled on her coat. She pushed her hair back with her hand.
Eleanor stood up. “Really, Ezmerelda. Do listen to your daughter. You’re making an awful show of yourself.”
Zelda’s eyes had fire in them. She raised herself as tall as she could. “Well,” she said. “Well, Mrs. La-di-da. At least I’m Martha’s real grandmother.”
Everything seemed to fall into slow motion for Betty. She watched Lilian frown and look at her father. Eleanor stared blankly and Dylan touched her fingertips with his. Trevor’s fiancée started to cry.
“Oh,” Zelda said aloud in mock surprise. “None of you knew, did you? That your darling Thomas isn’t Martha’s daddy?”
Thomas swooped over. He wrapped his arms around Zelda and bundled her out of the room. The front door was still open and he pushed her outside. She raised her hand to push against it, but he forced it shut behind her. He held his hand against it.
“Let me back in,” she shouted, hammering it with her fists.
“Zelda,” Thomas said loudly over and over until she stopped banging. He waited, then opened the door a little and pressed his eye to it. “I never, ever want to see you here again,” he said slowly and firmly, his jaw clenching with anger. “You. Are. Dead to us.”
He shut the door and quickly locked it behind him.
Betty stood helplessly, chewing her lip. She could hear her mum shouting in the street. She peeked through the glass in the door to see Gina pulling her away.
Thomas’s hand shook as he raised it. Betty cowered as he forced it into a finger point. “I told you, Betty,” he seethed, prodding the air.
“Thomas. I’m so sorry.” She reached up and took hold of his jacket lapels. “She promised me—”
“You heard what she said to my family,” he hissed.
“We can tell them it’s not true. They saw she was drunk.”
“Our daughter was there.”