The Saturday Supper Club

by Amy Bratley

  ‘For God’s sake, Frankie,’ Ethan said. ‘Let me see Eve! I don’t “not care” about Daisy, I just don’t want to be with her. It’s Eve I love. You know that. Daisy needs help, therapy or something.’

  What was this? Ethan was defending Daisy now? He was portraying Daisy as the victim and not me. My breathing was fast, my heart pounding and Dad, quiet, let his grip slip off the edge of the door. Suddenly his fist was in the air and he punched Ethan on the jaw. I gasped and ran into the hallway.

  ‘Dad!’ I said. ‘What are you doing?’

  Ethan was groaning and holding his jaw, but he was still standing. Dad grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall in the storm porch.

  ‘Do not talk to me like that,’ Dad said, his voice hard.

  ‘Sorry,’ Ethan said quickly, noticing me behind him. ‘I’m sorry. But I’m not the villain. It’s complicated. People are complicated. Eve, can we talk?’

  Ethan’s face was bobbing up over Dad’s shoulder, his eyes seeking mine. I shook my head and clasped my fingers together.

  ‘Not now,’ I said. ‘You’d better go. Please, just go.’

  Ethan held his palms up.

  ‘I’ll go,’ he said, staggering. ‘But this isn’t the end. This is not the end.’

  When Ethan turned away, I joined Dad at the door. He slipped his arm over my shoulder and I watched a muscle under his eye twitching.

  ‘Bloody fool,’ he said with a grimace. ‘Him, I mean.’

  I went to close the door when a woman I recognized arrived on the doorstep.

  ‘Hello,’ Dad said. ‘Hello, Elaine.’

  The woman – Elaine – came into the house and closed the front door behind her, leaning up against it like she was being chased.

  ‘Good God, who was that guy?’ she said, her accent American. ‘What on earth is going on? Do you want me to call the police, Frankie, honey?’

  Frankie, honey? I shook my head. I frowned, knowing I knew her, but I couldn’t quite place her. Then I realized who it was. My doctor, from when I was at school.

  ‘Dr Evans,’ I said, confused. ‘What are you doing here?’

  My mind raced. Was Dad ill? Was she coming to deliver him medicine or something? No, I told myself, you’re just being ridiculous.

  ‘This is Dr Evans, as you know,’ Dad said sheepishly. ‘This is Elaine.’

  Elaine reached out to shake my hand and Dad, who had almost stopped breathing, stood still as the stocks with a tense grin on his face.

  ‘Lovely to see you again,’ Elaine said, eyeing Dad curiously.

  The tension in the air was palpable.

  ‘Dad,’ I said, looking from him to Elaine. ‘What’s going on?’

  Dad rubbed his forehead and steered me back into the kitchen and told me to sit down at the table. Dr Evans followed us, in a cloud of Chanel No. 5.

  ‘Gosh,’ he said. ‘This is all very bad timing. I wanted to tell you another way but, to be honest, I’ve been afraid of how Daisy will react. But, darling, this is Elaine. This is my girlfriend, Elaine.’

  ‘Girlfriend?’ I said, looking from him to Dr Evans.

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘it’s a little bit more than that, isn’t it, Frankie?’

  Dad shook his head to silence her. He stood perfectly still, fearfully watching for my reaction from under his sun-bleached eyelashes.

  ‘Why all the secrets, Dad?’ I asked. ‘Why not be honest? What are you scared of?’

  He shrugged, sighed and slumped into his seat.

  ‘If I can say something here,’ Elaine said, putting down her handbag on the table and taking a seat. ‘I think your dad is scared witless or shitless, whatever. If he tells people that we are together, it will become more real and that is frightening to him. Just take one look at me, you can understand why. No, but seriously, he’s reluctant to let go of the past, even if the past is just memories.’

  I looked at Dad and he looked at me, with a sad smile. From his expression, I knew that memories of Mum were suddenly flooding both our minds. We missed her. I hugged him.

  ‘We’re not so different, are we, love?’ he said, hugging me back. ‘Not so different at all.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I was relieved when the sun rose and filled the bedroom with pale yellow light. I’d spent a sleepless night in my childhood room, which had remained pretty much as it had been when I’d left for university, ten years earlier, with its candy-pink striped duvet cover and matching cushions from Habitat and a sticker of Jason Priestley peeling off the wardrobe. Wearily, I pulled on my dressing gown, pale pink and fluffy, that I’d had since I was fifteen years old and pushed my hair out of my eyes. I opened the door slowly, so as not to wake Dad – and Elaine – then padded downstairs to the kitchen. I paused at the bottom of the stairs to inspect Elaine’s Kurt Geiger heels, carelessly strewn on the floor next to her expensive-looking leather handbag that was sagging open so I could see a well-thumbed black diary and a blister pack of some kind of tablet. Despite my anxious mood and it being such a surprise, I smiled at the thought of Dad having a girlfriend. He was so embarrassed about the whole thing – his entire bald scalp had turned pink last night when he’d told me about meeting Elaine – but he’d waited a long time for this. He deserved happiness more than anyone, even if it did feel like our roles were reversed. I could understand why he wanted to move out of this house now. My mother had inherited the house, once in a state of disrepair, from her grandparents and she had lovingly brought it back to life to create a gorgeous family home. It was an expression of her. If I had been Elaine, I wouldn’t want to live there; just the decoration alone made it feel like there was another woman in the house. I stood in front of a large framed photograph of Mum hanging on the wall in the kitchen. She was holding a pitcher of lemonade and smiling brightly. Daisy held on to Mum’s leg and burrowed her face into her skirt, a gingham fabric printed with patterns of watermelons. I imagined Daisy’s response when Dad told her about Elaine. I knew she would freak out about it. God. I frowned; just thinking about Daisy made me feel sick. Everything was going to change. I moved to the sink to wash up a cup and stared blankly out of the window into the garden. The early morning sun was steaming the dew from the grass and the big red poppies at the far end of the garden were unfurling their petals. I looked up at the brilliantly blue cloudless sky. It was going to be another scorcher. Not that I could enjoy it. My hands shook as I boiled the kettle, made myself a strong black coffee and sat at the kitchen table, eyes flitting everywhere, quietly sipping. It was eerily quiet. You’d never know this was London, I thought, vaguely aware I was up earlier than I’d ever been before. In the silence, I tried not to think about Ethan and Daisy, though in reality it was all I could think about. I’d been thinking about them all night long, obsessing over whether everything that Ethan had said was true. The pictures he’d painted spun in my head in confused circles. How could Daisy do that to me? Was Ethan genuinely sorry? Why would he have told me if he wasn’t? Was one attempt at making amends in writing a letter I never got anywhere near enough? I was indescribably angry with them both. Now that the first feelings of fury had subsided ever so slightly, and if everything Ethan had said was true, I was overwhelmed with a horrible feeling of disappointment. Everything I had believed about my relationship with Daisy had been turned on its head. And, because I’d never known the reason Ethan had left and had been confused by my feelings for him since he’d returned, my relationship with Joe was probably wrecked. I bit my lip, to stop myself from crying.

  ‘Hi,’ said Elaine, from the kitchen doorway. ‘Are you OK?’

  Surprised by her voice, that strong American accent in our kitchen, I turned to face her quickly, nodded and smiled, pulling my dressing gown tighter around my middle. She wore navy-blue and white spotted silk pyjamas and bare feet with her toenails painted dark red. Her blonde hair was held back with a tortoiseshell butterfly clip and her pale skin seemed almost translucent without make-up. I couldn’t get the image o
f Elaine as Dr Evans the GP out of my head. I blushed again, thinking how she knew everything about me; that I had gone on the pill aged sixteen without telling Dad, had suffered repeated tonsillitis whenever I got stressed and refused anti-depressants when Ethan first left and I could hardly get out of bed.

  ‘Your dad told me all the details about your ex and your sister,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘I’m so sorry. That must really, really hurt, as if it didn’t hurt enough already.’

  She readjusted the clip in her hair and folded her arms in front of her.

  ‘It does,’ I said. I gave a brave smile and shrugged my shoulders sadly. ‘What can I do? I feel like a fool.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she said. ‘Have you spoken to your sister yet? If I were you, I’d tell her exactly what I thought of her. Stealing your sister’s boyfriend is pretty damn low.’

  I shook my head. ‘Not yet,’ I said, feeling anger rise in me. ‘I’m planning on going to see her, though. I need to talk to her, to see if everything Ethan, that’s my ex, has said is true, but it all makes me feel really sick. Plus I’ve messed my relationship up with Joe, my boyfriend. He just thinks I’m the flakiest woman in the world because I’ve been so noncommittal, which I probably am.’

  I sighed heavily. Elaine smiled warmly then walked to the sink. She ran the water and took a tumbler out of the cupboard. It was clear she’d been here before plenty of times and knew her way around. I wondered how long Dad had been keeping her a secret for.

  ‘Bloody men,’ Elaine said, filling her glass then taking a drink. ‘Ah, that’s just what the doctor ordered.’

  She winked at me, then continued.

  ‘You’re better off without men,’ she said. ‘Except for your dad, of course. He’s different. But I know how you’re feeling. My ex-husband, my God, he was a shit. I’m surprised I didn’t end up in Holloway for whacking him over the head with a frying pan.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, watching in surprise as she pulled a packet of cigarettes from her pyjama pocket.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ she said, sliding a cigarette from the packet. ‘I spend the day telling patients they have to stop because they are decimating their lungs, and here I am secretly sucking on these death-sticks like there’s no tomorrow, which of course there won’t be if I carry on . . .’

  She paused to lift up the cigarette and shook her head in dismay. ‘What a hypocrite,’ she finished. ‘I promise myself every morning I will stop but, whatever I do, I can’t stop for longer than a couple of months. Anyway, sorry, what was I saying? Ah yes, my ex-husband was quite nice once upon a time, he was good at badminton, anyway – that’s how we met, over a shuttlecock on the badminton court. But as the years passed he became intolerable. He was a workaholic, and when his business failed he suffered a massive midlife crisis. I tried to be understanding and help him through it, but then he started sleeping around with women, like sex was going out of fashion, and that doesn’t do much for your self-esteem, does it?’

  She raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes.

  ‘I was a wreck and found myself living in a life I didn’t recognize,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I had to get out to preserve what was left of me, so I divorced him. That was six years ago. Then, when your father asked me out last year, I was delighted. He is such a gentle, caring, sweet man. But if it’s any consolation, honey, I know what you’re going through. Feeling betrayed makes you question everything you ever believed, doesn’t it? It’s the worst.’

  I felt tears spring to my eyes and to stop myself crying I stood to fill my cup with more coffee.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, leaning on the kitchen counter, clutching my coffee. ‘I’ve spent three years since Ethan left blaming myself for him going and not being able to commit to Joe through wondering if Ethan really was the love of my life. And as for Daisy, I just don’t get it. I would never do the same to her, not ever.’

  Elaine opened the back door onto the garden and stood half inside, half outside, to light up her cigarette. She took a deep drag.

  ‘From what your dad said,’ she said, ‘your sister has some issues, which probably stem from when your mum passed away. It’s worth remembering that, when you try to understand what she did, though it’s difficult to be anything other than mad. As for Ethan, do you really think he might be the love of your life? Because if he is, perhaps you could forgive the infidelity? You know, in my job, I see so many people who do actually get through an affair – then end up happier because they’ve had to dig deeper. Anyway, sorry, I seem to be delivering a monologue. My apologies, you were just trying to have a quiet coffee in your own kitchen and some American woman starts spouting off at you. No wonder your dad has kept me a secret!’

  She gave me a big grin and I registered how lovely it was. I shook my head and smiled. ‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘It’s nice to be able to talk about it. It’s the shock, that’s the thing. I just can’t believe that it happened. As for Daisy, I knew I pissed her off occasionally, but I had no idea about all this resentment she holds towards me. I just don’t know what to say to her. And I would never have guessed in a million years that Ethan would do that, which makes me question whether I really knew him. He was always out boozing, too, until three or four in the morning, so now I’m wondering if he’s slept with other women. Then of course there’s Joe. He has no idea why I’ve asked for time out. Thinking about how I’ve treated him makes me feel sick. I’ve been such a bitch to him.’

  I rested my head in my hands and sighed.

  ‘Quite frankly,’ Elaine said, with a quick raise of her eyebrows, ‘nobody’s perfect. Don’t beat yourself up so much. You’re not a bitch at all. Just sort things out with your sister for your dad’s sake, then decide what and who you want out of life.’

  I looked up at her with eyes open wide.

  ‘Easier said than done,’ I said.

  ‘Admittedly,’ she said drily, ‘that might take a few years. I’m only just working it out at, what am I, fifty-nine years old. Ancient as the hills.’

  The next morning, after Sunday spent with Dad and Elaine feeding and watering me like I was a dying flower, Dad trying to convince me to leave the whole sorry mess behind me, I was walking to Daisy’s office in Battersea, my hair still damp from the shower. I knew, by listening to Dad, I was delaying the inevitable. I had to confront Daisy and I wanted to catch her before work. I had texted her asking if we could grab a quick coffee, not explaining why. This way, on a work day, Benji would be at nursery and wouldn’t be there for Daisy to use as a shield. This way, it would just be the two of us, face to face, with nowhere to hide. I waited at the traffic lights and stared distractedly at the buses and cars speeding past. It was rush hour. People jostled all around me on their way to work, plugged into their iPhones and iPods. I walked determinedly, trying to match their stride, despite the terror gnawing at my gut.

  All I wanted to do was speak to Daisy. I hadn’t seen her since our row in the park and I guessed she thought this requested meeting was about that. I was almost desperate to hear her say that Ethan had made the whole thing up, outraged that I should even think such a thing. The sun was bright so I fished in my bag for my sunglasses, feeling safer behind their Jackie O dark frames.

  ‘Please don’t go,’ Dad had panicked earlier that morning, just before I left, almost blocking my way as I opened the door. ‘You’ll ruin it, Evie, our family, just think of that.’

  He was guilt-tripping me. In my eyes, it was already all ruined. It was hard to go against what Dad wanted me to do, but I had to. Elaine knew. Elaine had nodded approvingly in the background when I gave Dad an emotional speech about why I had to go, right before I left.

  ‘Trust your instinct,’ she’d said to me when I extracted myself from Dad’s pleading stare and made it out onto the street. Instinctively, I liked Elaine. ‘I’ll talk to your dad.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I’d said. ‘Thank you for listening.’

  As I pounded the pavement, I practised in my head what
I would say to Daisy. Even though the larger part of me knew I had no choice but to confront her, to release the fury and hurt brimming over in my heart, I also felt an awful sense of loss, like part of me would die as soon as I told her what I knew. There would be no going back. Our relationship would be changed forever. If she admitted everything that Ethan claimed, how could I ever trust her again? Could I ever forgive her? Looking up, I glanced at the green frontage of the Magnolia Cafe where I’d arranged to meet her. My heart hammered loudly in my chest. My hands were sweating and as I approached the cafe door waves of nausea washed over me. I stood in line, light-headed with nerves.

  ‘Iced coffee, please,’ I asked the girl behind the counter as I swept my eyes over the tables. Daisy hadn’t yet arrived. With trembling hands, I paid then carried my coffee over to a table in the corner of the cafe, under a canvas print of blue, pink and green circles, where I could see the door. There was World music playing and I tried to block it out. I fiddled with a discarded leaflet about yoga, sipped my drink and waited grim-faced for Daisy to come. She was the eighth person through the doors. Rushing in, she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and gave me a brief wave before waiting to order. I watched her as she walked towards my table, her simple coral-coloured sundress clinging to her curves, her long brown hair swinging over her shoulders. I felt the blood drain from my head and gripped the side of the table to keep steady.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ she said, pulling out the chair opposite me, thudding down in the seat and banging her work pass on the table. ‘I can’t be late today, I have so much to do. If it’s about what I said in the park, I was just in a bad mood.’

  She drank her coffee and looked up at me impatiently. When she saw the serious expression on my face, something that could have been fear flashed into her eyes. Sitting forward, she tucked her hair behind her ear and cast her eyes down to the table.

  ‘Eve?’ she said, flicking up her eyes. ‘What is it? Is this about Dad? You know I’m getting tired of being the one worrying about him all the time. Why am I the one who has to worry about him? You know, you’re closer to him really. You should ask him what it’s all about.’