by Rosie Fiore
‘Sally is Mum’s friend Isabella’s sister. She gave up like her whole life to look after Isabella, who got cancer and died, and then she looked after her mum when she got dementia. She’s like this princess who’s spent her whole life locked away, and she’s never had any contact with the real world. She’s all innocent and wide-eyed. She didn’t even know about Wi-Fi until we told her.’
Esther marvelled at Lucie’s romanticized interpretation of Sally’s life.
‘And now?’ Michael asked.
‘Now she’s starting to do things,’ said Lucie. ‘She’s got a computer and she’s learning to drive. And she’s selling all her mum’s stuff on eBay.’
‘Well, well, well,’ said Michael. ‘You two know some interesting people. I look forward to meeting this Sally.’
‘Oooh, chicken!’ Lucie jumped up.
Esther followed her into the kitchen to help her. ‘Thank you so much for doing dinner,’ she said quietly.
‘You might not thank me once you’ve tried it.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be delicious. And on top of that, it really was a lifesaver.’
‘Well, I know you hate it when you have to work late, and today of all days, with your boyfriend coming…’
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ said Esther, like a sulky teenager, but she was smiling.
‘He is so your boyfriend.’ Lucie grinned. ‘And I knew you’d be all like “Oooh, there’s no dill for the salad dressing, what about the balsamic vinegar, does my hair look all right, where’s my Cath Kidston apron…”’
‘I do not talk like that!’
‘Of course you don’t.’ Lucie raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘Anyway, now dinner’s all done, you can go and be all soppy with your boyfriend on the deck.’
‘Not my boyfriend.’
‘So your boyfriend. He looks at you like he’s a puppy and you’re a choccy treat.’
Esther beamed, then swiftly hugged Lucie and kissed her temple. ‘I love you, cheeky girl.’ Lucie permitted the hug for a second, then wriggled free and went to get the salad out of the fridge. Esther picked up her wine glass and walked to the door. ‘Mind you hurry up serving our dinner. I’m expecting five-star service now.’
Lucie had indeed done a good, if workmanlike, job with dinner. They all tucked in, and Lucie was ebullient and proud of her achievement. Michael, with his usual charm and ease, kept the conversation flowing and the mood light. After the awfulness of the day, the evening could cautiously be pronounced a success. Esther, sipping wine and looking at her spring garden, allowed herself a moment to imagine a future where golden evenings like this might be commonplace.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Within just a few weeks, Esther, Michael and Lucie were established in a tentative routine. Michael would come round for dinner twice during the week – on a Tuesday and Thursday evening. Then they would generally meet on one or both days of the weekend and go on an outing. Indeed, he quickly became such a big part of their lives that Esther felt it best to mention him to her mother in their usual weekly call – before Lucie did.
‘So, Mum,’ she said carefully one Saturday, after she had heard all the gossip from Laura’s church and the latest on her allotment. ‘I have a new… friend.’
‘Friend?’
‘Male friend. Partner.’
‘That all sounds a bit formal and sterile. Are we not saying “lover”?’
‘Not to our mothers we’re not. Good grief.’
‘Please take all the concerned questions as read. You’re not a fool. I’m assuming he’s a decent man, kind and reliable, and that Lucie approves.’
‘Yes to all.’
‘And he makes you happy?’
‘Very.’
‘Well, I’m thrilled. I hope he encourages you to be a bit silly and you have lots of lovely sex.’
‘Mum!’
‘Got to go. Have to hack back my rhubarb, don’t you know. Love to all. Kiss, kiss.’
On the weekends when Lucie was away with friends, Esther and Michael abandoned all pretence of worthy activity and spent the days in bed. But if they made love on nights when Lucie was in the house, he didn’t stay over but would doze for a while and then manfully get up and dress to go home in the early hours. Esther was grateful for his sensitivity, but she also yearned for nights when she could sleep in his arms and wake up with him.
One night, he had stayed until about three in the morning. He groaned as he got out of bed. ‘This is not fun,’ he said, but she knew he wasn’t guilt-tripping her, just having a little whinge.
‘Sorry, my love. At some point it’ll be different, I promise. And I so appreciate your patience.’
Michael gathered up his things and pulled on his trousers. ‘Just popping to the loo before I start the long drive,’ he said, leaving his shirt on the bed.
Esther heard Lucie get out of bed and open her door when Michael was in the bathroom. She heard her pad down the passage – she obviously needed the loo herself. Oh Lord. There was nothing to be done. Esther herself was naked in bed; there wasn’t enough time to leap up and fling on her dressing gown, and anyway, what would she say – ‘Don’t go into the bathroom, Michael’s in there’? That would raise more questions than she had answers for. Perhaps Lucie would see the toilet door was closed, assume it was Esther in there and go back to bed.
Of course, that wasn’t what happened. As Lucie stood outside the toilet door, Michael flushed and emerged. Esther heard a note of surprise in Lucie’s voice, although she couldn’t make out what she said, and then she heard Michael saying a few words, low and reassuring. Then Lucie went into the loo and shut the door and Michael came back into the bedroom.
‘Well, that was a bit awkward,’ he said.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Esther sat up. ‘What did she say?’
‘Just “Hello”. And I said something idiotic about being on my way home. But my natural gravitas was somewhat dampened by my being shirtless.’
‘Well, there’s nothing to be done about it,’ said Esther resignedly. ‘I expect we’ll have a fantastically embarrassing conversation about it in the morning.’
‘I’ll be heartbroken to miss it,’ said Michael, pulling on his shirt. ‘Let me know how it goes. I may be away some time – it’s going to take weeks for my blushes to subside.’
In the end, Esther overslept and the morning was a mad rush. In the chaos of breakfast and teeth-brushing, Lucie showed no inclination to discuss the issue. Esther spent the day feeling mortified and trying to work out how to raise it when she got home. When she did get back, Lucie was in her customary corner of the sofa, laptop on her knees, typing away.
‘Hi, lovely!’ said Esther, and even she could hear the false note of cheerfulness in her voice. ‘Good day?’
‘Fine,’ said Lucie, seemingly calm and unconcerned.
‘Plans for the weekend?’
‘Sleepover at Rebecca’s tomorrow night, if that’s okay.’ Lucie continued typing.
‘Fine, fine!’ Esther took a deep breath. ‘Listen, Lucie, about last night…’
‘Mum, it’s perfectly fine by me if Michael stays the night here. I know adults do sex and stuff. Just ask him to put a shirt on when he goes to the bathroom, okay? His hairy chest is icky.’
And so they moved into warmer days as a comfortable, if carefully balanced unit. Michael stayed over three or four nights a week, and on a couple of occasions Esther and Lucie went down to his house in Surrey, where they met Oliver and Luke, his sons. They were a pair of tall, blonde, muscular boys, who looked more like their mother than Michael. They were both nice, and Luke in particular made an effort to be kind to Lucie. Esther liked them immensely, and she was very grateful for their calm acceptance of her place in their dad’s life.
As the school summer holidays approached, they began to talk about what they might do in those six long weeks. Esther had always found the summer holidays a stressful time – even though there were no students on campus, her work continued and she had to find
ways to look after Lucie. There was only so much time she could spend working from home and only so many times she could take Lucie into work with her. Lucie, rather reluctantly, had agreed to go and see her dad in Manchester. She would be with him for the first fortnight, which would include going to Malta for a week with him and the now visibly pregnant Melissa.
‘Can we steal a few days away while Lucie’s in Malta, just for us?’ asked Michael one Friday evening.
‘I don’t know,’ said Esther. ‘I’ve had to save all my leave for later in the summer, when Lucie gets back.’
‘Were you planning to go away in that time?’
‘I was hoping she and I could take a short break somewhere in the UK. I’ve not booked anything yet though.’
‘Well, here’s my proposal,’ said Michael. ‘If you can squeeze even one day’s leave at the beginning, you and I could take a city break over a long weekend – I thought Venice, or maybe Paris would be nice.’
‘Nice? That’d be glorious. It sounds too wonderful for words.’
Esther’s wider social life had brightened up too. The work colleagues and friends who knew Michael were universally thrilled that he and Esther were an item, and the friends who had not come across him before warmed to him instantly. She met some of his friends too, and many weekends now incorporated picnics or drinks with their growing social circle. He got on especially well with Esther’s friends Paul and Tim, who lived close by. Both Michael and Paul considered themselves barbecue experts, so they liked to get together at weekends to test new recipes, and Esther, Lucie and Tim were all very happy to be guinea pigs.
When Esther’s birthday came round in mid-July, it therefore seemed natural to plan some sort of a party. She had a lot of invitations to repay and a great many friends she would like to share her day with.
‘There are a couple of possible options,’ she said to Lucie and Michael over dinner one evening. ‘We could have a party here, but that would restrict the numbers a bit. Or we could go for a pub garden, where we get in some food and wine, and people could come and go.’
‘The pub garden might be a bit impersonal,’ said Michael, ‘but if we do it here, you’ll end up running yourself ragged, cooking and entertaining. It’s your birthday and you should be able to relax and enjoy yourself.’
‘Michael and I could do all the cooking,’ said Lucie.
Michael laughed. ‘Did you see the look your mum gave us? I’m not sure we’re up to her high standards.’
‘Of course you are,’ said Esther. ‘You’re the barbecue king, after all. But…’
‘Oh,’ said Lucie, rolling her eyes and looking at Michael. ‘There’s a “but”…’
‘I was just going to say I quite like the idea of absolving us all of responsibility. If we’re in a pub, someone else cooks, clears away and washes up. We just get to have fun. All of us.’
‘Good point,’ said Michael. ‘I hadn’t thought about the clearing up. I’d only got as far as standing at the barbecue in a “Kiss the Cook” apron, getting compliments for my burgers.’
‘Washing up after a barbecue for loads of people would be no fun at all,’ admitted Lucie. ‘I vote for the pub.’
Esther researched a number of local venues, checking out their canapé menus, negotiating exclusive space and wrangling about drinks prices. In the end she chose a pleasant gastro-pub about a mile from her house that offered her exclusive use of their small, walled garden. She had to guarantee a small minimum spend on the bar, but she didn’t foresee this as a problem. She compiled a guest list and was gratified to see that there were upwards of thirty people she wanted to invite.
It being a summer weekend, a few people couldn’t make it, so the final tally would probably be closer to twenty than thirty. She was going over the guest list one evening when Lucie came to lean over her shoulder and have a look.
‘Can I invite a friend?’ she asked.
‘Sure. Do you want to ask Rebecca? I don’t think her mum will mind her being in a pub garden if she’s going to be with us.’
‘Yeah,’ said Lucie, a little reluctantly. ‘Maybe not. Maybe Clara. Or Zoe.’
‘Why not Rebecca?’
‘She’s just…’ Lucie didn’t seem to want to go on.
‘Just what?’
‘Being a bit weird. You know… She’s all obsessed with this TV show about vampires, and she spends all her time on the fan forums, and stalking the main actor on Twitter…’
‘Ah,’ said Esther. ‘Well, people’s tastes change as they get older. And sometimes our friends like stuff we don’t like. I’m sure you and she will find something you’re both interested in soon.’
‘Not if she keeps calling me lame and babyish.’ Esther looked round, and Lucie was frowning. She didn’t seem hurt, just angry. ‘I can just imagine what she’d say about being asked to my mum’s birthday party.’
‘Well, ask Clara or Zoe instead then.’ Her heart ached for the fraught teenage path Lucie had yet to navigate. At least she’d had Isabella by her side. She hadn’t had to negotiate it alone.
‘What about Sally?’ Lucie asked suddenly.
‘What about her?’
‘Are you inviting her?’
‘I haven’t,’ said Esther. ‘I could, I suppose.’
‘You should,’ said Lucie emphatically. ‘We haven’t seen her since that awful quiz night.’
Indeed they had not, nor had they heard from her. Esther felt a little guilty that she hadn’t made contact, but truth be told, Sally had barely crossed her mind. She felt a pang of guilt. She should have.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I mean, she won’t know anyone.’
‘She’ll know you, she’ll know me,’ said Lucie. ‘Clara or Zoe wouldn’t know anyone either.’
‘And I don’t know that she would fit in,’ finished Esther lamely. She imagined Sally in a group of her friends. They would all be warm and polite and kind, of that she had no doubt. But she had a vision of Sally sitting on the edge of her chair on the edge of a group, handbag in her lap, trying to keep up with the conversation. However, even before Lucie began berating her for being a snob, she knew she had lost the battle. She didn’t understand why Lucie had taken such a liking to Sally, but she had. The whole thing made Esther anxious, and she just hoped that Sally would be otherwise occupied and would refuse the invitation.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The day of Esther’s birthday party dawned, unsettled and a little blustery. Clouds scudded cross the sky and the wind gusted and abated. In the course of the morning there were a few brief flurries of rain, but by midday the sky had cleared, the wind had died down, and it was warm and bright. Esther dressed carefully in an emerald-green dress which went well with her light honey tan. She’d had her hair trimmed and blow-dried, and she applied simple make-up. Lucie looked lovely in jeans and a bright-orange T-shirt, although Esther had a small moment of shock noticing how her breasts had grown and her shape had become more womanly. Because she saw her daughter every day, she didn’t always notice the changes, but every now and then she was surprised.
Michael arrived at around four, looking smart in a crisp white shirt. He kissed her and looked at her appreciatively.
The venue had done a great job – there was a long table down one side of the garden area laden with plates, cutlery, napkins and glasses. ‘We’ll bring out jugs of Pimm’s once people start to arrive,’ the manager said.
‘Perhaps you could bring one out now,’ suggested Michael.
‘No problem. And the canapés are set to come out at around six.’
‘It all sounds fine,’ said Esther. She was beginning to feel a little anxious. What if people didn’t turn up? Or the party was dull? Or it rained? She glanced up at the bright blue sky. Well, that was one worry she could scratch off her list. Lucie and Michael followed the manager inside and she smiled. She suspected there were dastardly birthday cake plans afoot. She was fine with that, but she hoped they hadn’t put the correct number
of candles on the cake. She didn’t think she would have enough puff to blow them all out.
Regina and her husband were the first to arrive. As Esther might have predicted, Regina had been utterly thrilled when Esther had confessed sheepishly that she was seeing Michael.
‘The lovely Dr Wolfson!’ she had said excitedly. ‘I always liked him. And, to be fair, I always thought he was a total fox. Good work!’
Esther kissed Regina and Pedro, grateful to see their friendly faces, and handed them each a Pimm’s. Somewhere inside the pub, music began to play, and then someone turned the outside speakers on so that it was playing in the courtyard too. Lucie and Michael came back outside and helped themselves to drinks. Within a few minutes three more couples had arrived, and the party began to feel like it might just be a success. Paul and Tim came, bearing a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which took pride of place in the middle of the food table. Esther relaxed a fraction and found a seat at the head of a long table, where she could hold court and chat to friends as they arrived. Michael was the perfect host, circulating among groups, making sure everyone had a drink and putting people at their ease. Clara arrived and she and Lucie found a corner to huddle and giggle in. People kept refilling Esther’s Pimm’s glass, and she felt bathed in a warm glow – she was a little tipsy, surrounded by all her favourite people, celebrating her birthday on a sunny summer afternoon. What more could she ask for?
The canapés arrived and were surprisingly good. The sun dipped a little so the courtyard was in shadow, and the manager came out to light the tall gas heaters. Lights twinkled in the flower borders and the courtyard had a magical, almost continental feel. Someone turned the music up a little louder and Paul and Tim started the dancing in a cleared area in front of the food table. Michael came to sit beside Esther and she rested her head, which was swimming a little, on his shoulder.
Through the haze of Pimm’s, warm feelings and fairy lights, she saw someone – a blonde woman – standing talking to Lucie and Clara. The woman had her back to Esther, and she didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a cherry-red summer dress. Maybe she was a punter from inside the pub who had ignored the ‘Private Party’ sign and had come into the courtyard hoping to score some food or a free drink. Esther was about to ask Michael to go and play bouncer when the woman turned and surveyed the garden. To her shock, Esther saw it was Sally. Or at least it was a version of Sally, a woman so transformed it was hard to imagine she was the same person Esther had last seen six weeks or so before.