“Could erm...” Her pitch was right up there with hysteria.
They all turned.
She swallowed, stood straighter, smoothed down her dress.
“May I perhaps check the paper before you throw it out?”
She didn't say why. And she wouldn’t lie about it. Kate would spot her choking on the words and know something was up. Although no-one could miss that right now.
Ralph continued to stare. As did Kate. It was easy to see the family resemblance, in both looks and temperament – the same uncomprehending gaze, thoughts whizzing behind their eyes, but without Olivia’s silent hysteria.
They both shrugged, and said,
“Yeah, course.”
“Thank you,” Olivia managed.
“Are we OK to go?” Kate said gently.
“Very well,” Olivia agreed.
Although everything in her being wanted to tear through that recycling box right now and rescue the ring.
If the universe could stay away from that recycling box, and refrain from injecting any more chaos into the day, she’d be happy. That is, not completely overwhelmed.
Chapter 13
“Happy Christmas, everyone!”
Her mother opened the door of the bungalow with a blast of warmth from both the house and her personality. The aroma from roasts and spices bloomed into the chilly Christmas Day air in Iffley Village.
Geeta stood, tea-towel thrown over her shoulder, vibrant festive jumper on, smiles for everyone and cheeks glowing from cooking and no doubt enjoying life with Nicola.
“Merry Christmas!” Kate, Bea and Ralph chorused, in thrall to Geeta and her smiles.
“Come in, come in!” Geeta stood back and waved them through.
Was Olivia mistaken, but did her mother, in particular, take a moment with her? Geeta didn’t grab her for a cuddle – she knew springing hugs required warning. She made a quiet fuss of Zoe in Olivia’s arms first.
Then Geeta held Olivia's free hand, and paused, while looking down.
“What?” Olivia asked.
Geeta looked up and shrugged, making an appearance of nonchalance. Her mother carried it off smoothly enough for most, but not her.
“Wanted to check on you,” Geeta said gently. “You know, this time of year can be busy and stressful.”
Couldn’t it just. Seriously, what had she been thinking, throwing that ring out into the world at Christmas.
Then Satinder met her too.
“Come here,” her grandmother said, wandering toward her in a deep-red Punjabi suit.
And after an indulgent fuss of Zoe, Satinder took Olivia’s hand and squeezed it while, again, looking down.
“Nani ji?”
“Uff,” her grandmother said.
