The Saturday Supper Club

by Amy Bratley

  Daisy shrugged and took a glass of Pimm’s from Maggie, who was circling the room with a tray of glasses.

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ she said, a tear sliding down her cheek. ‘Everything is going wrong. Benji’s not taking well to having Ethan around and I know that Ethan isn’t interested in me. I think he should go back to Italy. He’s thinking of it anyway. I think that’s what I want, for us all to get back to normal. For him to go, for us to be talking again. What about you?’

  ‘But what about Benji?’ I asked. ‘It’s a bit soon to expect him to welcome Ethan with open arms. These things take time, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy said. ‘But I think he can pick up on everything that’s in the air, you know, this tension between us. It’s not doing him any good. Look, I know there’s a lot of bad feeling between us and I’m sorry for my part in that, but I do, genuinely, want to be friends. I think the sooner Ethan is out of the picture again, the better. He’s bad news. I don’t know why I brought him today, I shouldn’t have bothered. It’s clearly not going to work with him being around.’

  Daisy looked at me and dropped her hands down by her side. In my peripheral vision I saw Ethan talking to Elaine. He glanced round nervously and I suddenly felt desperately sorry for him. He was never going to be able to do anything right with Daisy, because at the bottom of all this, she still wanted him to want her. Just then, Elaine banged the side of a glass and so Daisy and I walked out into the courtyard, standing by one another, closely watched by Joe.

  ‘Attention, please,’ said Elaine, who was standing on a small step at the back of the courtyard and waving at me and Daisy, beckoning us over to the table where I’d laid out the birthday cake, studded with sixty candles.

  ‘I think Frankie would like to say a few words,’ she said. ‘All ears this way, please. But just to run through a few health and safety issues. This magnificent cake here, with these millions of candles on it, could be a fire risk, so hold on to your hair . . .’

  There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd and Dad kissed her cheek. I felt Daisy’s arm against mine as she stood with Benji clinging onto her leg.

  ‘Thanks, Elaine,’ he said, holding his glass against his chest. ‘Yes. Well. Thanks for coming to celebrate me becoming an old man. Sixty! That’s quite something, isn’t it? Funny thing is, I feel like I did when I was nineteen and I met my wife, Audrey, Daisy and Eve’s mum. That old photograph up on the wall inside the cafe, of Audrey leapfrogging me on the beach – that was taken when we first met. Gosh, I was overwhelmed with joy that day. I thought I was going to explode with love and joy and possibility and excitement.’

  Listening to Dad talk, I felt like I might cry. I took a large gulp of drink and watched Dad’s eyes blear with tears. He pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped at his eyes. Daisy touched my arm, briefly and gently, in acknowledgement.

  ‘Oh dear,’ he said, holding out his glass to a gentle peal of laughter. ‘I think I’ve had too many of these. But what I’m trying to say, in my inarticulate way, is that today, thanks to my daughters and my beautiful new love Elaine here, I feel some of that joy, love and excitement all over again. And that is a wonderful thing for a man of my age. A wonderful thing.’

  Someone in the courtyard clapped and everyone joined in. Dad shook his head and held up his hands to silence everybody.

  ‘Please, don’t get me wrong,’ he said. ‘I’m not being smug. I’m nothing but grateful. I recognize how difficult life can be and I know that both my daughters have had hard times, but I want to stress to them, to you all, the importance of sticking together through the shit. Pardon my French. But I hope you catch my drift. I love you girls with all my heart. You are my everything.’

  Dad looked over at Daisy and then at me. I turned to give Daisy a small smile. She raised her eyebrows and reached out her hand and took mine briefly, before letting it fall. I couldn’t speak. I was too choked with emotion.

  ‘Come on, you old fart,’ Dad’s friend Barry called out. ‘Cut the cake.’

  There was a burst of laughter and Elaine lit the candles on the cake, which Dad blew out, with the twinkling happiness of a four-year-old. We all broke out into a raucous rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ before he cut the cake, picking off the candles as he worked.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Dad mouthed to me and I nodded vigorously. I gave him the thumbs up, smiling brightly. Maybe I wasn’t such a bad actor myself.

  By late afternoon, people began to drift off, but a hardcore circle of drinkers remained, sitting round on garden chairs in the courtyard, listening to Elaine tell funny stories about the real reason Dad had suddenly become a philanthropist – purely to impress her.

  ‘I was doing some voluntary medical work for the Children in London charity,’ she said. ‘And I suddenly noticed that Frankie was this prolific fundraiser, who seemed to stop at nothing to raise money. Baked-bean baths, half-marathons and, most recently, the head shave. It was only a few days ago he admitted the real reason.’

  ‘Oh,’ Dad said, ‘that’s not true. I’ve always been an active member of that charity.’

  ‘Come off it, Frankie!’ said Elaine. ‘You’d never even heard of it before I mentioned my involvement!’

  My eyes drifted to Ethan, who was smoking a cigarette at the bottom of the courtyard, looking out over the wall. Daisy was standing close to him, slapping suncream on Benji’s arms, and by the expression on their faces things were not going well between them. When Daisy took Benji inside to use the toilet, I walked over to Ethan and touched his elbow.

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Actually, I’m not doing too well with Daisy. She’s not at all happy with me. It’s not really working, this idea of mine. Benji doesn’t seem mad keen on me, either. I think she wants me to disappear off the face of the earth now.’

  ‘Give it time,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should spend time with him on your own. Just half an hour or so at a time while Daisy is out in the garden or something. Maybe that would work.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, stubbing out his cigarette. ‘Maybe. Anyway, this place is great. Really properly good, you’ve done so well. I’m jealous. I wish I could be a part of it with you.’

  Hearing Joe calling me from inside the cafe, I turned back towards the kitchen. Ethan put his hand on my arm and pulled me to him, quickly. He looked around, to make sure no one had seen.

  ‘Eve,’ he said quietly, ‘I know we agreed not to do this, but I can’t stop thinking of you. It’s like you’re in my blood.’

  I pushed off his hand.

  ‘Get off,’ I said sternly, tears pricking my eyes. ‘I have to go inside.’

  Quickly, I went back in, into the cool, where Joe was inside the pantry cupboard, staring at boxes of unpacked crockery.

  ‘Ah,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m trying to find some fresh glasses. Do you know if there are more?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There should be some on the top shelf in there, probably in a plastic box.’

  ‘OK,’ he said, switching on the pantry light. ‘I’ll get those sorted out, then I’ve got to go to work. I’m doing another night shift tonight. I’ll have to catch the bus as I’ve been drinking.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Just let me tell my dad you’re going soon. I want him to come inside for a bit so I can talk to him on his own, make sure he’s enjoyed himself. Thanks, Joe, by the way, for everything. It hasn’t been too bad, has it, with Ethan and Daisy here?’

  Joe looked down at his hands.

  ‘No,’ he said stoically. ‘Not too bad at all.’

  Leaving Joe inside, I went out but Dad was busy talking to his best friend. I returned inside, walked into the kitchen to find Joe, but the pantry door was closed. I turned to leave, when Elaine came into the kitchen to find me. Swaying slightly, half of her hair trailing out of her butterfly clip and clutching a folded-up piece of paper, she spoke quickly and softly.

  ‘I was going to give you
this earlier,’ she said. ‘But I wanted to wait until Joe had left for work. He’s gone now, hasn’t he? It’s the original letter that Ethan sent you, the one your dad had the audacity to hide from you. I found it when we were going through all your dad’s stuff, sorting out for the house move. I think it’s rightfully yours. It’s up to you if you read it, but I think you should have the choice.’

  I stared at the letter in her hand.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, taking it from her slowly.

  Back in the kitchen, I turned it over in my hands a few times, then I took a deep breath, sat down on a chair and opened it. Loose inside, there was a British Airways ticket to Rome, open-ended for the month of August, dated three years ago. I cast my eyes over Ethan’s loopy handwriting, my heart knocking crazily in my chest.

  Dear Eve

  The first time you looked at me that day in the park, I was hooked. When we spoke, I lit up inside. I couldn’t stop looking at you. I had to hold you. I had to keep hearing what you had to say, because everything you said thrilled me. From that day, I was yours. I didn’t want for anything or anyone else. Only you. On the night of that summer party, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I ruined everything. After we had that stupid row, Daisy told me she was in love with me and that I’d ruined her life by being with you. She took her clothes off and cried and begged me to hold her. She begged me to tell her I thought she was attractive. It was madness but I wanted to make her feel better. I was drunk. I wanted to be the good guy. I slept with her. Just writing the words in black and white makes me want to throw up, because I regret it so much. I wish, with my whole self, I could turn back the clock. It was, literally, a moment of madness. I know what chaos this will cause. I know how your heart will break and that this will smash your trust in me, in our love. I came to Rome because I couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes when I told you the truth. I couldn’t not tell you either, because Daisy threatened to tell you if I didn’t disappear. In a panic, I left, thinking it would be better if you never knew what I’d done. Now though I’m confessing the truth because I can’t live without you. I have to convince you of how much I love you. I need you to give me a second chance. I want you to fly out to Rome so that we can talk, away from Daisy, so that I can explain. Please come because I love you more than there are words to express. I am so sorry to have let you down so horribly. I have let myself down too. Please come, Ethan x

  I read the letter over again, my eyes filling with tears. I held the letter to my cheek. Elaine, suddenly kneeling by my side, put her hands on my shoulders.

  ‘Oh, honey, you read the letter already?’ she said. ‘Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.’

  I slumped back in my chair and gulped, trying to stop myself, but the tears were coming thick and fast now. I leaned forward into Elaine’s shoulder and wept.

  ‘It’s the missed opportunity,’ I croaked, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. ‘If I’d known all this then, if I’d been able to talk to him then, maybe we could have sorted it all out.’

  I felt exhausted and shook my head in despair.

  ‘These things are so hard,’ Elaine said, stroking my hair. ‘But in my experience, love will out. The opportunity to talk to Ethan is still there if you still love him. You just have to be brave.’

  Shaking my head vigorously, I folded my arms and turned towards the window, where the afternoon sun was shining through.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘The opportunity has gone. It’s too late now. I can’t hurt Joe again, whatever muddle I’m in over Ethan.’

  ‘Do you really, really want to be with Joe?’ Elaine asked.

  I didn’t answer for a while, just stared at the skin on my hands, which was dry and in desperate need of cream.

  ‘Joe’s so great. He’s always been fantastic and I do love him,’ I said. ‘But there’s something with Ethan that I can’t shake off, something I can’t leave alone. The thought of never seeing him again, it just hurts, here . . .’

  I pointed to my heart and Elaine nodded sagely. I opened my mouth to carry on speaking when, from behind me, Joe burst out of the pantry door, his eyes glistening with angry tears. I gulped.

  ‘Joe,’ I said, panicking and standing up, ‘I thought you’d gone to work. Did you—?’

  ‘Were you hiding in there, Joe?’ Elaine asked, screwing up her face.

  Joe’s face was white with anger, his jaw set.

  ‘I heard every word of that,’ Joe said. ‘I should have trusted my instincts. I don’t want to be second best.’

  I reached out to hold Joe’s arm.

  ‘You’re not second best,’ I said wearily. ‘It’s me, I’m drunk, it’s this stupid letter. I love you, Joe, honestly. Please.’

  ‘It’s NOT ENOUGH!’ he said, his voice shaking with anger, his body trembling. He grabbed the letter from my hands and ripped it into shreds. I’d never seen him so properly angry. I held my hands up to my cheeks, frightened.

  ‘Now, Joe,’ said Elaine, ‘calm down.’

  ‘Don’t tell me to calm down,’ he said to Elaine, shoving past her and marching towards the kitchen door. Just then Ethan came in, followed by Dad.

  ‘And you can fuck off,’ said Joe, pushing Ethan in the chest.

  Ethan raised his hands as if in mercy.

  ‘Hey,’ Ethan said to Joe. ‘Watch it, mate. You’ve got no right to be shoving me around. Are you OK, Eve? Why are you crying?’

  I looked at Ethan, his face full of concern, and I felt angry, really full of rage. If he hadn’t been such an idiot all those years ago, none of this would be happening.

  ‘Oh, piss off, Ethan,’ I said. ‘I mean it. Just get out. Get away from me. GO!’

  Ethan gave me a long hard look, then shook his head despondently and left the cafe. For a few moments there was silence, then Dad put his hand on Joe’s back.

  ‘Listen here, son,’ he said, frowning. ‘Whatever’s happening here can be sorted out. I know it’s all a bit complicated, but women are like that and—’

  Elaine lifted her finger to her lip to silence Dad and gestured for him to leave Joe and me alone. Joe looked up at Dad, his cheeks wet. His lips contorted as he spoke.

  ‘I’m not your son!’ he said. ‘I never will be.’

  Joe walked out of the kitchen and towards the front door of the cafe, past bemused guests, who wondered what was going on. I followed him out to the door and grabbed his arm.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I asked.

  He shook my hand off his elbow and stared forward. He pulled his keys from his pocket and headed to his Spider, where he yanked open the driver door and climbed inside. He turned on the engine.

  ‘Don’t drive,’ I said, stumbling after him in my heels. ‘Joe, you’ve been drinking! It’s dangerous!’

  I banged hard on the passenger window and gestured for Joe to turn off the engine and come back inside. He wound down the passenger window slightly, but said nothing. His face was as hard as stone, his lips pressed between his teeth. I was aware of Elaine in the background, with a couple of guests trickling out of the party, looking at us in concern.

  ‘Joe,’ I said calmly. ‘You can’t drive. You’ve been drinking. Please, come inside. I want to explain.’

  Joe let out a loud embittered laugh. He pushed on his sunglasses and turned on the radio.

  ‘I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say,’ he said, winding the window back up. I tried to grab the door handle, but he put his foot down on the accelerator and sped down the road, leaving me reeling on the pavement.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said one of Dad’s friends, by my side, his hands on my waist steadying me. I swore under my breath, put my hand on my forehead and watched Joe’s car at the traffic lights, his brake lights flickering.

  ‘What’s not going on?’ said Elaine. ‘That’s the question. Come on, honey, you need a drink.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The following morning, after Joe had sent me a text at midnight, in reply to a dozen pleading p
hone calls from me, asking me not to contact him for a while, I sat in the car beside Isabel. Her departure day was here and, after a sleepless night tormenting myself with how bad I felt for Joe and with words from Ethan’s letter whirling around in my mind, I’d agreed to drive with her to Heathrow, so I could drive her car back to mine and take care of it for a while. I sat beside her feeling nauseous, fiddling with my phone, obsessively rechecking my messages.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Isabel asked, glancing sideways at me from the driver’s seat. ‘You look terrible.’

  After Joe had sped off from the party, Elaine had made me such a strong whiskey and ginger it completely knocked me out. I had to go back to the flat in a taxi, peel off my clothes, kick off my uncomfortable heels and lie down. I’d hardly eaten anything all day and drunk only alcohol since lunchtime so it was hardly a surprise I had such a hangover. Maggie and Elaine had cleared up the party debris and closed the cafe, so I could rest. Even Daisy helped out, but perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. Daisy seemed to like me best – to be able to cope with me better – when I was down.

  ‘I feel like such a bitch,’ I said, stretching the seatbelt away from me briefly. ‘Imagine hearing what I said. Joe must feel so bad. I wish I hadn’t opened my mouth. He won’t even talk to me.’

  Isabel changed gear and sped onto the dual carriageway away from London. The tower blocks of flats blurred into a grey stream out of the window smeared with red streaks of graffiti.

  ‘You were only saying what you feel,’ she said. ‘I’m beginning to realize that your feelings for Ethan are still really strong. Whatever I say about Joe, you can’t let go of Ethan, can you?’

  I brushed my fringe from my forehead and blew air out of my lips.

  ‘I don’t want to be involved with anyone any more,’ I said. ‘I’m too confused to know my own mind.’

  ‘I think you do know your own mind,’ she said. ‘But it’s going to take balls to admit what’s in your heart. Ethan’s not an easy prospect and you’ll lose Joe’s friendship. Daisy will not be happy either.’