‘She’s going back to school now,’ Maggie said. ‘She forgot her games kit. Perhaps I’d better go too.’
A look passed between her and Luke. He leaned over and said something under his breath and then they both went out front. Katya ran into the lounge and watched from the window. She saw how close they stood, how Maggie placed her hand on his chest, quickly, as if she’d been trying not to smile. She looked sappy. Katya’s breath misted the window. She wanted to crash her fists against it. Instead she gripped the curtain so tightly she left nail marks in the fabric.
She expected Luke to take her to school but after that he seemed to assume that she’d stay, that they’d be together for the afternoon. That made up her mind. There were twenty minutes before her science class started and with any luck, if she ran, no one would notice she’d been gone.
18
Saturday, 6 March 2010
THE ENTERTAINMENT FOR Emily’s birthday party arrives: Princess Daisy-Petal and her box of face paints, sequins and feathers, ridiculously bubbly and smiley and ready to transform fifteen little girls into fairies and princesses. She prances into the house in character before she’s even changed, exclaiming at how lovely everything is, how gorgeous the children are, how she can feel the magic in the air. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had sprouted wings. Slightly overwhelmed, I settle her and then the bell rings again and I find Amber at the door with Sophie. Emily greets her friend and drags her into the kitchen to show off the table she’s helped decorate.
Despite our best efforts, chaos rapidly descends. The doorbell keeps ringing. Parents issue instructions I’ll immediately forget, about not giving one child chocolate and another needing reminding to go to the loo. I make myself react with pleasure and understanding when handed a plastic tub of gluten-, egg-and sugar-free treats, and I say that, yes, I am trained in the use of an EpiPen. Then, just as someone else is explaining that their child shouldn’t take their socks off because they have a verruca, I get a text.
I check it, thinking it might be a last-minute cancellation or someone mislaying our address, but it’s from David. I swear silently.
I can’t stop thinking about you. I understand how you feel about this but I need to see you.
The noise of the party grows louder but I feel out of it, pulled away from my family. Despite my annoyance I can feel David’s arms around me and the rasp of his stubble against my cheek. Why is he doing this?
‘What is it?’ Amber says, making me jump. ‘Vicky? What’s the matter?’
I turn to her and smile brightly. ‘Nothing. I zoned out for a moment.’
I’m still holding my phone. She takes it out of my hand, looks at it and rolls her eyes. Someone bangs the door knocker and rings the bell at the same time. Amber doesn’t let me answer; she shouts for Magda and pushes me up the stairs. I walk into my bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed.
‘What a bastard,’ she says. ‘Why can’t he leave you alone?’
I shrug.
‘I thought you were over him.’
‘I am,’ I insist. ‘I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I’ve tried ignoring him, but evidently that’s not working. I thought he took it so well at the time. He was so sweet about it and said he totally understood and respected my decision. Obviously, that’s not the case. I must have hurt his pride.’
Amber wanders across the room to the dressing table. There are photographs on the marble surface; a wedding picture and one of our two families together when it was just the girls and Josh wasn’t even a twinkle in his father’s eye. She picks it up, scrutinizes it and sets it back down.
‘I think you ought to see him. It wasn’t exactly fair, the way you left it, was it? Flouncing off and leaving him standing in his birthday suit. The poor guy deserves a proper explanation.’
‘I didn’t flounce.’ I manage a smile. ‘And he can’t be a bastard and a poor guy at the same time. Make up your mind.’
‘Which do you think he is?’
‘I have no idea. And it’s all very well saying go and see him, but it’s not that easy. There’s Josh, remember.’
‘It might be a good idea to have him along.’ She raises her eyebrows. ‘Stop you doing anything you’ll regret.’
My expression tells her exactly what I think of that suggestion.
‘So hire Magda for the morning. Tell her you’ve got an appointment in Harley Street. That usually stops people asking questions.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
I go to the mirror, brush my hair and smooth the creases out of my white shirt. I do feel calmer.
‘I’m sorry about the other day,’ I say. ‘You were right to be pissed off.’
‘No, I completely overreacted. And anyway, who needs Bognor when we have Spain to look forward to?’
She rests her head against my shoulder affectionately. We make an odd couple, Amber with her almost brittle beauty and my more comfortable, less threatening attractions. It still surprises me that I’m the one who contemplated an affair.
Downstairs, the doorbell rings again. She snaps out of it and briskly twists her hair away from her face.
‘OK, that’s enough moping. We’d better get back before we’re missed.’
Jenny, wearing ill-fitting chinos and a jumper capacious enough to cover her bottom and much of her thighs, is in the kitchen helping divest children of coats and shoes. She turns her head and smiles as I come in. ‘Hectic morning?’
I must look hassled. ‘Non-stop.’
‘Rose has been so looking forward to this. Do you want any help? I can stay if you like.’
‘It’s all right. I’ll manage. I’ve got Magda, and Tom’s about somewhere.’
She studies me through her glasses and frowns. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
Why do people keep asking me that? ‘Fine. It’s been a full-on morning. I should have done more prepping yesterday. My fault.’