‘The caterers always go overboard at Christmas,’ Heather said with a wave of her hand, watching Felix add more potatoes to his already over-loaded plate.
Once they were seated, Malcolm raised his glass of red and made a toast ‘to family’, which seemed loaded somehow in light of the DNA tests.
‘Where did you two meet, Felix?’ Heather asked, once they’d cracked the bonbons she ordered every year from Harrods, gesturing to him and Polly.
Felix launched into story-telling mode, regaling them with the story of how he’d met Polly at a café in Paddington. ‘We’d both ordered the same takeaway order. Smashed avo on sourdough and an almond latte,’ he said, but he pronounced it ‘shmashed’. He must be quite drunk. ‘Pol thought I’d taken hers by mistake. She was quite feisty about it. It was very attractive.’
‘I mean, what are the chances?’ Polly added rhetorically, her hand a little too far up Felix’s inner thigh. ‘We decided it meant we were made for each other, and the rest is history!’
‘Therest?’ Heather asked. ‘How long ago was this star-crossed meeting?’
‘Almost a month ago.’ Polly looked at Felix, doe-eyed.
Heather scoffed, not even trying to conceal her cynicism about the longevity of the relationship.
Polly looked hurt, momentarily, then regained her composure. ‘How did you and Malcolm meet?’
Issy had heard the story a hundred times. She studied her father’s face as he told them about the day fifty years before, when he’d seen Heather for the first time at Bondi Beach. Maybe it was the DNA tests, but Issy listened differently this time. How faithful had he been during those fifty years? There was at least one indiscretion that she knew of. She’d discovered that one day in year nine, when she walked into the locker room to find her best friend Claudia whispering something to a wide-eyed Melody. When they saw her, they’d leapt apart.
‘What?’ Issy had asked.
‘Nothing,’ they said in unison.
Eventually Claudia had told her the truth. ‘Your dad’s having an affair with my dad’s friend’s wife’s sister. It’s common knowledge. Everyone knows.’
Issy’s brain had felt like it was going in slow motion, trying to compute the information, to make sense of it, while Claudia waited for her to say something.
Eventually, Issy had shaken her head. ‘My dad wouldn’t do that.’
‘It’s true, Issy. Your dad even bought an apartment for her at Circular Quay. He stays there with her while he’s in Sydney.’
Issy’s eyes felt hot with tears. ‘How do you know?’
‘My dad told me.’ Claudia shrugged. ‘At least your parents are still together. My mum’s on to her third husband and my dad’s girlfriend just had a baby.’
Bile had risen in Issy’s throat, picturing her father with a new baby, and she’d run for the toilets. Claudia had followed and stood beside her, rubbing her back.
That night, Issy had called home. Heather answered.
‘Is Dad there?’ What was she planning to say if he was?
‘He’s in Sydney, darling. He’s working on a big transaction. Everything okay?’
‘Yep, fine. I just wanted to ask him something.’
She’d decided it was a good thing he wasn’t there. Best to pretend she knew nothing about it.
When lunch was finished, they moved back to the lounge. The waitress brought out a platter of mince pies and took coffee orders.
Issy sat herself next to Polly, a strategic move to avoid talking about the Hartwell Gaol development with Spencer or Malcolm. She and Polly discussed handbags for fifteen minutes, before Issy looked around for Hugh. She hadn’t seen him since they were at the dining table.
Just as she was about to go and look for him, Heather approached. ‘Swap seats,’ she said to Polly, who did as she was told.
Issy looked at her mother expectantly.
‘You’re not going to do that test, are you?’ Heather murmured, glancing at Cathy, who was collecting discarded wrapping paper nearby. ‘Sit down, Cathy, for God’s sake. I’ll have someone do that later.’
Cathy joined Felix and Polly, and reached for a mince pie. There was still no sign of Hugh.
