She’d be fine if she was just allowed to go and speak to her friend, she thinks. Instead she pulls her lips into a smile.
‘Just a bit of a headache, Charlotte. I’ll get some air for a few minutes and then I’ll come back in.’
Charlotte’s eyes dart up to where Jonny’s standing. They both watch as Jonny flicks ash from his cigarette onto the lawn and rocks on his heels, nodding and laughing at something the older man says, embodying the foppish twenties gent even without an outfit. Charlotte pauses like she wants to say something, her eyes darting around Cassie’s face like she doesn’t recognise her daughter-in-law suddenly.
Inside, someone has turned the howling music down and a male voice calls out, ‘OK, everyone; get a drink and get in position for the countdown!’
‘You should go back in, Charlotte. I’ll be right behind you.’
She feels her mother-in-law’s eyes crawl all over her back as she turns away and walks across the lawn towards her friend.
The older man, thank god, has already left; he’s probably gone inside for the countdown. Jonny’s seen Cassie at last, waves and starts walking towards her. They meet halfway across the lawn.
‘I’ve been looking for you!’ he says. His grip as they hug softens before hers. She doesn’t want to let go; it feels so good to be held by someone she trusts, someone who knows her. She kisses his cheek.
The noise drops from the party; a charged quiet, the fidgety kind that can’t stay still for long exudes from inside.
‘Oh god, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you,’ she says, holding onto his hand.
He looks down at her, his smile slightly lopsided. He swigs from a bottle of wine and takes a step back. Cassie recognises the absent look behind his eyes, as though Jonny’s stepped away from himself, his gestures weird and exaggerated.
‘Me too, Cas,’ he says, squeezing her hand. ‘You won’t believe the shitstorm I’ve come back to, though. Christmas has made Lorna even loopier than normal. Somehow she’s made the connection that you’re the girl from the Juice-C advert and she went mental on the phone to me earlier, saying we’ve been sleeping together …’
Inside the crowd start counting down from 10, 9, 8 …
Jonny, drunk enough to forget what he was just saying, grabs her other hand and joins in for ‘5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … Happy New Year!’
He picks Cassie up and spins her around, his feet unsteady beneath them, and he’s laughing so he doesn’t hear as she slaps his back and shouts for him to put her down. Everyone inside starts singing a slurry version of ‘Auld Lang Syne’. As Jonny spins her, she sees a few people huddled round the back door, drinking champagne, still hugging and kissing as if congratulating each other for surviving another year. Jonny finally rests Cassie back on the grass.
‘Jesus, Jonny, urgh. That’s made me feel really sick,’ she says, holding her head. He offers her his wine bottle. She shakes her head.
He narrows his eyes at her and asks, ‘What’s up?’
‘Your wife thinks we’re having an affair, that’s what’s up.’
Jonny wags a wonky finger at her. ‘Ex wife.’
‘Jonny, don’t be so fucking flippant, I’m serious.’
‘So am I. The only way to handle such stupid accusations is to seriously laugh at them.’
She thinks she might cry suddenly. She’d been looking forward to seeing Jonny for two weeks and now he’s so drunk, so preoccupied with his own troubles again, she feels like there’s no room for her, but she needs his help. She has to try and talk to him at least.
She takes Jonny by the wrist and pulls him to the corner of the garden. There are more people outside now. A woman dressed as a flapper is handing out sparklers. Cassie doesn’t want to risk someone overhearing her telling Jonny she’s pregnant, that she’s considering leaving Jack, that she needs Jonny’s help.
But Jonny misinterprets her hand on his wrist. He raises his hand high in the air and pulls her into an awkward jolting dance, his wine bottle pressed against the small of her back. He spins her around and catches her in his arms before he tries to drop her over his arm, but they’re out of sync, their weight unbalanced, and he has to lean forward, pull her up to a hug to stop her from falling. He holds on to her, laughing, his breath stale with wine against her skin, his heartbeat quick against her chest. She pushes him away.
‘Jesus, Jonny! Fucking stop it!’ she says. A stinging heat is starting to gather and burn behind her eyes; she feels the bovine gaze of other guests on them. Her heart drops because she knows she can’t tell him now, not when he’s like this, too sloppy and careless with booze for the delicate secret she’s protected for twelve weeks now.
Jonny finally quietens as she wipes big, rolling tears from her face. They travel quickly, trapped for too long. She’s not crying for herself, though; she’s crying for her unborn child. ‘The secret.’ She won’t let her child be born into all this suspicion. Jonny, suddenly serious, puts his arm around her.
‘Shit, sorry, Cas. Why are you upset?’ he asks, but Cassie shakes his arm away.
‘I’m upset because I’m fucking scared, Jonny. I’m scared, OK?’ Over Jonny’s shoulder she sees a couple of people staring at them in the vacant way people stare at trashy TV, worried perhaps they might miss something terrible happening to someone else. Fuckers. She instantly regrets telling Jonny she’s scared. Now is not the time to tell him about her fears for her child’s future. She doesn’t want a scene. She turns her back towards the crowd, but she can’t stop crying. The tears feel too good, exorcising the broken little person she’s terrified she’s become since she saw them together.
‘Oh god, Cas,’ Jonny says, his eyes widening but his voice fudged with wine. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to …’
‘Don’t worry, it’s not that, it’s … I’m fine, really. Look, I’m totally overreacting. I’m just going to head home.’ She nods her head at Jonny. ‘I just want to go home,’ she says more firmly.
‘OK, I’ll drive you.’
Her face is wet now, her hands stained black from mascara. She smiles at his worried face, but she shakes her head.
‘No, no,’ she says. ‘Jonny, seriously, I promise you, I’m fine, OK? We can speak tomorrow when I’ve had a sleep and you’ve got a stinking hangover. I’ll need your help more then, but I’ll walk back now. It’ll take fifteen minutes max. I’ll be fine, OK?’
‘Please let me drive you home.’
If it was only her decision she might have said yes, but it’s not just her safety she has to think about any more; she has to get her baby safely away from here.
She strokes the side of Jonny’s worried face.
‘No, I want to walk. It’ll do me good. I promise I’ll be fine.’
‘You’re not going to tell Jack you’re off?’
A firework in the field next to the farm bangs, followed by a small shimmer of light. The crowd make a shy ‘ohhh’ sound.
Cassie shakes her head.