CHAPTER 19
Saoirse: Friday 17 December
It’s the day of the Sorrel Farm party, and Bea and I spend a good part of it getting ready. I can’t put my finger on why I’m so jittery, so full of nervous excitement. It’s a combination of knowing the party is a big deal, having such an incredible dress to wear, and being aware of the fact that, at some point, Miles has started noticing me.
Being aware may be an understatement. I have obsessed, non-stop, since Astrid’s visit last night.
Miles called mea knockout.
He knows my favourite colour.
He knows what size I am.
I’m not invisible to him.
I’m building this up into something it’s not, because I’m conscious of him every minute of the day, but it’s better than nothing. Whatever his feelings are for me, I’ll take them.
I did a conditioning treatment and blow-dried my hair thoroughly this morning so my baby hairs lie flat and sleek and don’t fly around my face. My flatmate Becky, who spent a few years as a hairdresser in New Zealand, packed me off with abox of heated rollers this morning, giving me a demonstration on how to use them. I put them in my hair when we’re back from the park and add a couple on top of Bea’s head, because her FOMO kicks in as soon as she sees them.
Miles has warned me to be ready for three o’clock sharp. By two forty-five, Bea and I have matching red nails and are both wearing our scarlet party dresses. Bea’s comprises red tulle over a stiff skirt, with gold sparkles all over. She looks like a doll and she’s thrilled with herself.
My hair has miraculously settled into loose, glossy curls and I’ve taken more care over my makeup than on any occasion in recent history. Scarlet lips, at Becky’s insistence during our detailed and excited debrief last night. I keep my eye makeup simple to balance out my mouth: creamy eyeshadow and a classic flick in black liner. Gold hoop earrings. I suspect Astrid will approve. A final check in the mirrored bathroom confirms I will do this glorious dress justice.
We’ve already laid my sleepwear out on the spare room bed. I’m staying here tonight, because we have The Nutcracker matinee tomorrow. Bea is so excited that I’m sleeping over, bless her.
We waltz toLast Christmasto kill time. I’m afraid to sit down in this dress, though it will probably get creased in the car, anyway. I’m twirling a breathless and hugely excited Bea around the living room when Miles comes in.
He shuts the door and stops, the hand holding his phone dropping slackly to his side. His gaze travels the length of my body before making eye contact with me.
‘Wow.’
‘Daddy!’ Bea runs towards him, and he bends to grab her and swings her up in the air.
‘Look at you, princess! You. Are. Beautiful.’ Bea snuggles into him, and he punctuates his words with kisses on Bea’s cheek before he resumes staring at me.
‘You look beautiful, too.’ His words tell me he’s just being polite. He told Bea she looked beautiful, and he’s used the same phrase for me. Playing it safe?
But his eyes tell a different story.
It’s almost as if he can’t believe I scrub up well. He looks transfixed.
‘Thank you.’ I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, rooted to the ground.
He blinks and bumps Bea higher on his hip. ‘Great dress. Astrid’s a superstar. Right, princess. You come with me.’
He strides across the suite with Bea in his arms. ‘I’m going to get changed. We leave in five,’ he says over his shoulder.
Sorrel Farm is a veritable winter wonderland. It couldn’t be more different from the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. This is what the phrase is supposed to mean! This is authentic. Wondrous.
The magic began as soon as Dave pulled into the driveway. The car was flagged down by an elf, who gestured for him to wind the window down.
‘Welcome to Sorrel Farm! Do we have any children in this car?’
‘We certainly do, mate.’ Dave lowered the back window as Bea giggled in her car seat.
‘Merry Christmas!’ The elf beamed at her and stretched over me, handing Bea an ornate golden key. ‘You’ll need this to get into the Walled Garden. You take good care of it, now, you ‘ear me?’
‘I will!’ Bea shouted.
