‘How lovely!’ exclaimed Laura. ‘Many happy returns for yesterday.’
Cherry was pleased with everyone’s reaction. Now she couldn’t be accused of letting Daniel know in advance so as to secure an expensive present, though she secretly knew that his inevitable guilt at missing her big day would probably procure something even better. Howard had already been to the kitchen and was coming in clutching a bottle of champagne and four glasses, which he held upside down by the stems. Pleased, Cherry noticed that it was Veuve Clicquot rosé.
‘This calls for a celebration,’ said Howard. He gave everyone a glass of pretty pink fizz and lifted his own. ‘To Cherry!’
‘To Cherry,’ said Daniel and Laura, and for the first time that evening she felt a part of everything.
‘So what did you get up to with your mum?’ asked Laura.
The bubble evaporated. Cherry felt on the spot. She could hardly talk about a strained hour in the poky flat, avoiding the tilting sofa and thinking of excuses to leave. Everyone was looking at her expectantly, smiling. ‘Not much.’
She watched Laura’s face become puzzled before she covered again. ‘Well, sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet one.’
Cherry churned inside with misery. At that moment she felt a gulf apart from anyone else in the room, including Daniel. She had a sudden overwhelming need to get away, to catch her breath and work out what had gone so wrong with this evening she’d been looking forward to so much.
She stood. ‘I’m just going to go . . .’
Laura indicated out into the hall. ‘First door on the left.’
Cherry locked the door behind her and sank down onto the floor. Why couldn’t she fit in? Her mother’s words of the night before rang in her ears. The rich, they have a different life. Not something we really know about.
Was she right? So far, the evening had been a horrible collection of tense, awkward moments. Nothing like she’d envisaged. She’d imagined herself falling into a warm friendship with Laura, finding some common ground early on, maybe having a joke or two; perhaps she’d even gone into the kitchen to help Laura with the supper. Cherry had dreamed of Laura as a motherly substitute, taking her under her stylish wing and being the kind of mother she wished she had. She burned with embarrassment at her girlish fantasy. Somehow she had spent the evening feeling inferior, unworthy of these people. Humiliation turned to resentment and she angrily flushed the toilet and ran the taps, just in case anyone was listening. She just wanted to go home, and the disappointment and sense of failure were crushing. How was she ever going to escape her life if she couldn’t even hold a conversation with someone over a certain salary bracket? She took a breath and then opened the bathroom door. The hallway was empty. Making her way back into the dining room, she saw everyone had left the table. Howard had disappeared, and Laura and Daniel had their backs to her and were peering over a laptop. Laura had an affectionate arm over Daniel’s shoulders and Cherry stared. The draped arm felt like a barrier to her, stopping her from coming in.
‘She’s found you somewhere wonderful,’ said Laura.
They were looking at photos of the flat. What was she, the staff, the hired agent, only useful to find property for her son? Even as she thought this, Cherry knew it was unreasonable, but she didn’t care. She walked over and joined them. Then she deliberately put her arm on Daniel’s lower back and started to caress it. He turned to her and smiled. On Laura’s face she caught a look of surprise and felt her quickly take her own arm away.
‘It is nice, isn’t it,’ said Cherry. Keeping her eyes on the screen, she smiled inwardly, a sense of satisfaction creeping over her as she kept her hand possessively in place.
EIGHT
Friday 13 June
The kitchen was full of post-dinner debris: plates, glasses and pans stacked by the sink, the culinary wreckage from the evening. The dishwasher had long finished its gurgling with the first load, which she’d filled some hours before, but Laura couldn’t face the rest: it could wait for Mrs Moore in the morning. She sat on her swing seat in the garden, pushing herself against the ground with her foot, pondering the evening. She had seemed nice enough, Daniel’s girlfriend, although quiet. Laura supposed she was nervous, but it had been hard to engage her in conversation . . . In fact, she’d practically clammed up when they’d mentioned her birthday with her mother. And then there was that odd thing she’d done at the end of the evening. With her hand. It was almost as though she was claiming him, wanting to score a point. No . . . that was silly, and Laura felt bad for thinking it. She was probably just nervous as hell, poor thing. Soon after, Daniel had offered to take her home and Laura had known they were itching to get away, and she’d smiled, knowing they needed time for themselves. Daniel had driven her back to Tooting and as he’d left, made it clear she shouldn’t wait up. Once they’d gone, Howard had retreated again to his study. Even Moses had gone out for a night prowl, and now she was left with her thoughts.
The wind coursed through the trees at the end of the garden and she shivered. The temperature had dropped for the first time in a week. Laura realized she was cold and went back inside, closing the bi-fold doors behind her.
Lying in bed, she tried to sleep but felt restless. The curtains billowed in the buffeting wind; then there was a crack of thunder. Finally the storm that they had been waiting for was breaking. The rain started, and in a matter of seconds it was hammering against the window in some disjointed torrential rhythm as the wind blew it bullyingly about. Laura got up and, as she went to close the window, saw a flash of lightning against the sky. It lit up the garden and the large opaque ground window glistened wet in the rain. Then she heard a faint mew. The next flash illuminated Moses sitting outside the bi-fold doors, waiting to be let in.
‘Oh, Moses,’ she said exasperatedly, but quickly went downstairs. As she opened the doors, he scuttled inside, gratefully rubbing his thanks against her legs. She stood for a moment and watched the storm, but then a flurry of rain blew into her face and she shut the door. She looked around for Moses, but he had gone for a late supper, so she left him and went back upstairs to bed.
She lay staring at the ceiling; through the plaster was Howard in his study, engrossed in work one floor above her, and she thought about how sad it was that they didn’t really talk anymore. She turned over on her side and instead thought of Cherry. She resolved to do something for her, something to make her feel comfortable. Perhaps she’d take her out somewhere. Yes, that would be nice. She switched off her light and the room plummeted into darkness. She tried to block out the storm battling at the window and at some point must have succeeded as she drifted off to sleep.
NINE
Saturday 14 June