by Amy Bratley
Maggie nodded enthusiastically.
‘And I want to sell whole cakes, not just slices,’ I carried on. ‘Big enough for three or four, and serve them on a cake stand, with a knife, for customers to cut themselves, so it feels like they’ve just taken a cake out of the oven. And it has to be really child-friendly, so—’
I paused for breath, smiling apologetically at Maggie. With everything that had been going on with Ethan and Joe, my enthusiasm for the cafe had waned. But inside, I realized with relief, I was still as keen as ever.
‘Fantastic,’ said Maggie, clapping her hands together. As we talked more, she infected me with her alcohol-fuelled enthusiasm and, for a while, my spirits lifted. We were talking animatedly now, loudly enough for the people on the next table to turn and glance at us. The beer was helping. I tried to shut out everything I was feeling about Ethan, but I knew it was still there, ghoulishly glowing in the depths of my mind.
‘We could leave a bit of the window free for the kids to dress,’ Maggie said. ‘Or have a mini-kitchen in there with balls of dough, so they can make their own biscuits. We could bake them while they wait. You have a nephew, don’t you? Maybe we could try the idea out on him first or get him to help with the promotional material. How old is he? Too small?’
The mention of Benji made my heart stop. I didn’t want his existence to be a stark reminder of such unhappiness, but how could I deny it? I veered from hating Ethan and Daisy for what they’d done – they were as bad as one another – to feeling sorry for Ethan and fearful for Daisy. Ethan didn’t want my sister. He’d made that pretty clear. What was he going to say when he discovered he had a child with her? If I told him the truth, would Daisy and I ever speak again? As furious as I was with her, I didn’t want our relationship to be completely over. We were sisters. We didn’t have a mother. We should be there for one another, somehow. That’s what our father had drummed into us all these years. That we should stick together, no matter what.
‘Two,’ I said. ‘He’s two.’
I looked at the table and concentrated on the glass in front of me.
‘Bless,’ she said, her voice soft. ‘Hey, what’s wrong? I’m not seriously going to jump in on your business, you know. I’m just talking, trying to forget about work crap.’
I shook my head, glancing up at the ceiling.
‘It’s not that,’ I said, with a sigh. ‘It’s just tonight, I’m nervous about seeing Ethan—’
I blew out and closed my eyes for a moment.
‘You’ll be OK,’ Maggie said. ‘Honestly. It won’t be so bad. And you’ll get over him in time. I know, I’ve been there.’
We arrived at Ethan’s forty-five minutes late. His cousin’s red-brick Victorian conversion flat was a large ground-floor space that, because of its sparse but elegant decoration, with a glass chandelier hanging majestically in the hallway, felt to me like a property featured in Homes and Gardens magazine and not a real home that people actually lived in. I couldn’t imagine Ethan feeling at home there at all. His old flat was a cross between a second-hand record shop and a hurricane scene.
When Ethan opened the door, my heart leapt into my mouth and I almost turned and ran. I couldn’t really look at him, so I focused on the scene behind him. He had covered the expansive table with cream candles, already lit, and filled green glass vases with poppies. He’d made a huge effort, but that was typical of him.
‘I was worried you wouldn’t come . . .’ he said, visibly shocked to see me. Then, recovering himself, he stepped backwards into the flat and invited me and Maggie in.
‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘Come in and have a drink.’
We stepped over the threshold and despite the heat I shivered. Maggie closed the door behind us. From the living room Ethan’s favourite Love album was playing loudly.
‘We’ve already had a few,’ Maggie said, pulling off her cardigan and handing it to Ethan. ‘But there’s room for another.’
‘And another and another,’ Ethan said with a nervous laugh, delicately laying her cardigan on a chair in the hallway, glancing over at me. I averted my eyes and breathed in the delicious smell of melting cheese and of peppers and pancetta browned to perfection, but the thought of actually eating anything made my stomach constrict. Ethan cleared his throat.
‘Anyway,’ he said, clasping his hands together in a very un-Ethan like way. ‘It’s really great to see you both.’
He kissed Maggie’s cheek then leaned in close to me. I stumbled back slightly, knocking into the telephone table on which balanced a vase of purple and pink sweet williams. He steadied me with his hand on my elbow, but I shrugged it away. Maggie threw me a glance, her mouth turned down at the edges in a small sad smile.
‘Andrew and I were getting worried,’ Ethan said too loudly, hastily moving away from me. ‘Paul’s hitting the bottle and we’ve polished off the antipasto. So, how are you both?’
Just great, I thought. Absolutely amazing. But I didn’t say anything, just followed him and Maggie inside the flat and into the living room, a very large open room decorated in autumnal colours with a black stone statue of Buddha sat peacefully on the mantelpiece.
‘Hi,’ I said, lifting a hand in greeting to Andrew and Paul, who were sitting either end of the dark red sofa holding glasses. Ethan, suddenly by my side again, handed me a cocktail glass filled with pink liquid.
‘Strawberry and basil margarita,’ he said, smiling. ‘I think you’ll like it. Taste it, tell me what you think.’
Ethan watched me as I drank. It was beautiful and smooth and fruity and delicious. I finished it in three mouthfuls.
‘Thank you, but—’ I said. ‘Not really my thing.’
Ethan looked crushed.
‘Let me get you something to eat. I know you’re going to like these canapés—’ he said, but I shook my head and rested the glass down on a table, next to an enormous russet lamp.
‘It’s fine,’ I muttered. ‘Thank you. I’m actually not feeling hungry.’
Ethan frowned, concerned, then something like recognition passed over his face. He looked at me knowingly and I cast my eyes to the floor. He knew I was lying. I was notoriously hopeless at it. My stomach churned noisily and I wrapped my arms around my waist protectively.
‘What are you talking about, woman?’ Andrew said from the sofa. ‘How can you not be hungry at the Supper Club? That’s not allowed. I’m starved. You know, the roasted garlic and marinated green bell peppers were out of this world. I’ve given him a ten out of ten for those.’
I gave Andrew a wan smile.
‘Oh, by the way, Alicia insisted that I must apologize again for my dinner party,’ he said. ‘Having twin girls on the kitchen floor was never part of the plan.’
Andrew was sitting forward on the sofa, leaning his drink on his knees. Still dressed in a suit, he looked dishevelled and exhausted. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days and had dark smudges of tiredness under his eyes.
‘How are the twins?’ Maggie asked, holding her head to one side. ‘How are you and Alicia coping? Shouldn’t you be at home?’
‘Guilt trip!’ cried Andrew. ‘I’m working as hard as I can. It’s exhausting, you know. Alicia and I are both like zombies. You’d never think that two tiny beings could be so totally demanding on . . .’
I tried to listen to Andrew, but was only really aware of Ethan, who was in and out of the room, banging around in the kitchen, finishing off his dinner. When he was in the room, he repeatedly glanced at me, smiling tentatively. I couldn’t smile back. All I could think about was Benji. He didn’t know anything about Benji. How could Daisy have not told him? It was cruel and wrong and I felt guilty for knowing when he didn’t.
‘So, what’s it like to be a father?’ Ethan asked, now by my side, offering me a bowl of fat green olives. ‘Is it as tough as it looks?’
I gulped at Ethan’s question, so innocently asked.
‘It is utterly life-changing,’ Andrew said, flopping backwards in the sofa so he w
as almost horizontal, clutching his glass to his chest. ‘They’re only a week old, but it’s so much harder than anything I’ve ever done, harder than cooking a soufflé, even – something I’ve never managed to do.’
‘Oh, that’s easy,’ Ethan said. ‘The secret’s in the amount of whisked egg white you add. The more, the higher it rises. I’m sure you’re doing a fine job with your girls. Hey, my pizzas are ready in five minutes. Let’s all sit. Eve? Will you come through?’
I nodded and followed Ethan into the kitchen, listening to Andrew, Paul and Maggie continue a conversation, collecting their glasses to bring through. Ethan quietly pushed the door to behind us, turned and grabbed my hand.
‘Eve,’ he said urgently. ‘I meant what I said the other night. I know I made a terrible mistake, an awful mess, but Daisy means nothing to me. You know that. It’s you I love. I know this hurts, I know it’s not going to be easy, but I want us to be together. I’m certain we can put the past behind us.’
He pulled me towards him and made to kiss me. I felt the heat from his chest. His lips brushed against mine, so with my hands on his chest, I pushed him away.
‘Ethan,’ I said. ‘No, we can’t put the past behind us.’
‘Please,’ he said fervently. ‘You have to believe me. I don’t care about Daisy. Christ, do you really think I do?’
He held on to my wrist, tightly now.
‘Get off!’ I said, shaking myself free. ‘Ethan, leave me alone. You have no idea.’
Ethan stepped back and leaned against the sink, rubbing his jaw with his hand.
‘I do know how you feel,’ he said. ‘I can imagine perfectly how you feel, but I will do anything to convince you that I love you. Absolutely anything . . .’
His eyes searched mine for softness, but I stared stonily at him, the secret I knew boiling up inside me like molten rock. I felt desperate to tell him the truth, to rid myself of the burden. But how could I put it into words?
‘Can we come in?’ Maggie said from just outside the kitchen door.
‘Course,’ Ethan called out. ‘Sorry, must have closed on its own.’
I looked towards the door and watched the handle turn as Maggie came through, followed by Andrew and Paul.
‘Everything OK?’ Maggie said, standing suddenly still, her eyes darting from Ethan to me. I shook my head very slightly and hung my head. ‘I’m so hungry. This looks bloody brilliant, Ethan. Very posh.’
‘Smells good,’ said Andrew. ‘Very rustic.’
I took a deep breath and smiled up at Maggie, grateful that she had quelled the tension in the air. Andrew, Maggie and I took our seats around the table, while Ethan, pale-faced and obviously upset, brought out his pizzas, placing them in the centre of the table. Paul began taking pictures, mostly concentrating, I noticed, on Maggie. In the candlelight, with her flawless skin and dark shiny eyes, she looked like a film-star.
‘What am I going to do with bloody David Bailey here?’ Maggie laughed. ‘Stop taking pictures of me.’
Andrew filled up my glass with white wine and while he worked his way around the table, I drank deeply, realizing that with the beers and cocktail I’d had, I was already feeling drunk.
‘Just make your excuses and go,’ I silently instructed myself. I’d done everything I told Dominique I’d do. I was in the pictures, I could describe the food. I should just go. I took a deep breath.
‘OK,’ I said, standing, pushing back my chair. ‘I’m not feeling that great. I think I should—’
Before I could finish my sentence the doorbell sounded in four long angry bursts. Everyone looked at Ethan, who stood still, holding a bowl of salad leaves, and frowned in confusion.
‘Don’t know who that will be,’ he said, placing the bowl on the table then moving towards the door. ‘I’ll be one minute—’
The doorbell rang out again, this time in one endless burst.
‘Whoever it is,’ said Andrew, ‘they’re pissed off about something.’
Hearing a female voice from the hallway, I paused to listen. It was Daisy. My heart pounding, I scraped back my chair and walked out into the hallway to see Daisy on the doorstep opposite Ethan. She was white as a sheet, her mascara smudged around her eyes as if she’d been crying and she leaned up against the doorframe, obviously drunk.
‘Daisy,’ I said. ‘What are you doing here? Where’s Benji?’
Ethan stood awkwardly by the door. All the colour had drained from his cheeks and his eyes were wide.
‘I’ve been phoning you,’ she said, slurring her words. ‘I’ve been phoning and texting you all day, telling you not to come here, but you came. Did you want to get in there first? Be the one to tell him?’
I shook my head, my eyes flicking to Ethan, who looked increasingly bemused.
‘Don’t lie to me,’ she said. ‘Why else would you have come tonight, you bitch?’
Ethan, frowning, looked at me intently.
‘Tell me what?’ he said. ‘What’s going on? Look, Daisy, I think you should leave. Really, we’ve got nothing to talk about.’
Daisy shook her head and stepped over the threshold and into the flat.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she said, swaying on her feet.
‘It’s me who should leave,’ I said. ‘You two should talk. I’m sorry, Ethan, this isn’t why I came tonight, but you and Daisy need to talk. She has something important to tell you.’
Ethan, pulling his bottom lip nervously, wedged one hand defensively under his armpit.
‘Shut up,’ Daisy said to me. ‘Just shut up.’
‘What the fuck are you two talking about?’ Ethan said. ‘You’re not making any sense. What do you need to talk to me about? In my view, we’ve got nothing to talk about, nothing at all.’
‘Where’s Benji?’ I asked Daisy again.
Daisy narrowed her eyes at me.
‘You fucking bitch,’ she said.
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes.
‘I just meant that,’ I said. ‘Where is he?’
‘Can someone please tell me what’s going on?’ Ethan said, his voice shaking.
Daisy stumbled past me and sat heavily on a chair.
‘Nothing,’ she said wearily, bending down and rubbing her eyes. ‘Oh fuck, I feel sick.’
Shaking with anger, I moved towards her and lifted her chin up with my finger.
‘Come on,’ I said, looking her in the eye. ‘Daisy, just tell him. If you won’t, I will.’
‘Tell me what?’ Ethan said, pushing his hair back from his face. ‘Will you just fucking well tell me whatever this is?’
His raised voice brought out Andrew and Maggie, who hung back, their arms folded, worried expressions on their faces.
‘Can we help at all?’ Andrew said quietly. ‘Are you OK, Eve?’
‘Not really,’ I said. I reached past Ethan and picked up my bag. My heart hammering in my chest, I turned to Ethan, then looked back at Daisy, who was slumped in the chair, crying.
‘Benji’s your son,’ I said. ‘Daisy had your baby.’
I was aware in the background of Maggie’s hand shooting up to her mouth. Andrew gasped and pulled Maggie’s shoulder, trying to get her back into the kitchen. Daisy’s cries suddenly stopped and she stood, holding her breath, staring at Ethan.
‘What?’ Ethan said, staring down at the floor. ‘Benji is my son? You didn’t tell me?’
His face was flushed now, his mouth set in a ruler-straight line, jaw jutting forward. He leaned against the wall.
‘Daisy,’ he said, ‘is this true?’
Daisy nodded once and stared at her hands.
‘Daisy,’ he said. He stared at me desperately, his eyes brimming with tears. ‘Daisy’s son is my son, too?’
I nodded, feeling like I might throw up at any moment. I watched Ethan slide down onto the floor, where he covered his head with his hands. He started to cry and I suddenly panicked about whether I should have told him the truth. I bit my lip, tasting the salty tears pouri
ng down my own cheeks. Daisy stayed silent, her hand curled into a fist and pushed against her mouth.
‘Sorry,’ I whispered, before opening the door and letting myself out of his flat. I closed the door quietly and walked down the street, my legs feeling like liquid, tears still streaming down my face. Sorry.
It was almost dark. I stood still for a moment and looked back towards the flat and saw Andrew leaving, pacing up the road in the opposite direction. I sighed heavily. I knew what this news would do to Ethan. I knew that he would be completely blindsided. Was it really the best thing for the truth to be out there? I shook my head in confusion. I didn’t know any more. I didn’t know anything. All I knew was that I wanted to talk to Joe. I wanted Joe to hold me, to kiss me and tell me that everything was going to be all right. But I’d dug my own grave. An image of Ethan sinking to the floor flashed into my mind. I’d never seen him so genuinely pathetic. Daisy’s voice, drunk and accusatory, echoed in my head. I thought about going home, but didn’t want to be alone. Banjo had enough food. I watched a bus trundling down the road towards me and knew it would go fairly close to Isabel’s flat. With shaking hands, I fished into my bag for my Oyster card, got onto the bus and found a seat by the window. I sat among strangers, chattering and laughing or listening to their iPods. People who knew nothing of the turmoil inside my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘It’s up to them now,’ said Isabel after I told her about the evening at Ethan’s. I lay on her bed, in a quivering state of shock, my head banging with the evening’s alcohol, watching her sort through clothes to take and clothes to give away. Her platinum hair fell over her eyes as she spoke, and in one dramatic motion she swung it from one side of her head to the other.
‘It’s best everything’s out in the open,’ she continued. ‘Daisy and Ethan need to talk and think about what’s best for Benjamin. This isn’t some plot in a soap opera. This is a little boy’s life, for God’s sake. That’s the important thing to remember here. You know, this might even be good for Ethan. If anything’s going to make him grow up, this will.’