Clementine could never, would never, cull Erika. She was Holly’s godmother. The moment, if there had ever been such a moment, where she could have ended their friendship was long gone. You couldn’t do that to a person. Were there even words for it? Erika would be devastated.
Anyway, over recent years, since Erika had met and married the lovely serious Oliver, their friendship had become much more manageable. Although Clementine had cringed at Ainsley’s use of the word, ‘toxic’ was actually an accurate description of the feelings Clementine had so often felt in Erika’s presence: the intense aggravation she had to work so hard to resist and conceal, the disappointment with herself, because Erika wasn’t evil or cruel or stupid, she was simply annoying, and Clementine’s response to her annoyingness was so completely disproportionate, it embarrassed and confounded her. Erika loved Clementine. She’d do anything for her. So why did she inflame Clementine so? It was like she was allergic to her. She’d learned over the years to limit the time they spent together. Like today, for example: when Erika had suggested lunch, Clementine had automatically said, ‘Let’s make it afternoon tea.’ Shorter. Less time to lose your mind.
‘Please can I have a cracker, Daddy?’ said Holly.
‘No,’ said Sam. ‘Help look for your sister’s shoe.’
‘You girls make sure you say please and thank you to Erika and Oliver at afternoon tea today, won’t you?’ said Clementine to the girls as she tried behind the curtains for the missing shoe. ‘In a nice, big loud voice?’
Holly was outraged. ‘I do say please and thank you! I just said please to Daddy.’
‘I know,’ said Clementine. ‘That’s what made me think of it. I thought, “What good manners!” ’
If Holly or Ruby were ever going to forget to say please or thank you, it would be with Erika, who had a habit of pointedly reminding the girls of their manners in a way that Clementine found to be kind of unmannerly. ‘Did I hear a thank you?’ Erika would say the moment she handed over a glass of water, cupping her hand around her ear, and Holly would answer, ‘No, you didn’t,’ which came across as precocious, even though she was just being her literal self.
Holly took off her shoes, climbed on the couch, balanced on her socks on the side with her arms held out wide like a skydiver, and then let herself fall, face first onto the cushions.
‘Don’t do that, Holly,’ said Sam. ‘I’ve told you before. You could hurt yourself.’
‘Mummy lets me do it,’ pouted Holly.
‘Well, she shouldn’t,’ said Sam. He shot Clementine a look. ‘You could break your neck. You could hurt yourself very, very badly.’
‘Put your shoes back on, Holly,’ said Clementine. ‘Before they get lost too.’ Sometimes she wondered how Sam thought she managed to keep the children alive when he wasn’t there to point out all the perilous hazards. She let Holly do that face-first dive off the side of the couch all the time when he was at work. Mostly the girls were good at remembering the different rules that applied when Daddy was at home, not that those different sets of rules were ever actually acknowledged out loud. It was just an unspoken way of keeping the peace. She suspected different rules about vegetables and teeth-cleaning applied when Mummy wasn’t home.
Holly got down off the couch and slumped back. ‘I’m bored. Why can’t I have a cracker? I’m starving.’
‘Please don’t whine,’ said Clementine.
‘But I’m so hungry,’ said Holly, while Ruby wandered off into the hallway hollering, ‘SHOE! WHERE ARE YOU, MY DARLING SHOE?’
‘I actually really do need a cracker. Just one cracker,’ said Holly.
‘Quiet!’ shouted Clementine and Sam simultaneously.
‘You are both so mean!’ Holly turned on her heel to leave the room and kicked her toe on the leg of the couch, which Sam had dragged sideways looking for the shoe. She screamed in frustration.
‘Oh dear.’ Clementine automatically bent down to hug her, forgetting that Holly always needed a minute to process her rage at the universe before she accepted comfort. Holly threw back her head and gave Clementine a painful blow on the chin.
‘Ow!’ Clementine grabbed her chin. ‘Holly!’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Sam. He stomped out of the room.