Hattie walked into the room where the lunch was to take place and gave a sigh of happiness. It looked beautiful. Huge, natural-looking arrangements in front of an ancient fireplace and at other strategic spots consisted of English flowers, ‘grown not flown’. Dahlias the size of plates nodded among roses and lacy hydrangeas. There were snapdragons, astrantia, delicate blue larkspur and Japanese anemones. Hattie loved how it looked as if a herbaceous border had been brought into the house. As Leonie had left choosing a florist to her, she had turned to Rose for help. The end result was everything she could have wished for.
‘I just hope my parents like it as much as I do,’ she said to the young woman helping her with the place names. ‘They’re a bit conventional.’
‘No one could be unhappy with those flowers,’ she said reassuringly.
Hattie was in the small hall (dominated by another enormous fireplace) that led into the ballroom (now full of white-clothed tables), ready to greet the guests, when her parents arrived.
‘Harriet, dear,’ said her mother, having given her a critical look, ‘you appear to only be wearing a slip. Could you go and put on the dress that presumably goes over it?’
‘There isn’t one.’ She bit her lips. ‘I left my outfit behind,’ she admitted. ‘I wore this last night to a dinner dance.’
‘Well, it’s hardly suitable for lunch, is it?’ said her mother.
‘Otherwise it’s my jeans and slightly grubby linen jacket.’
Leonie came forward. ‘It’s a lovely dress but it is a bit – well…’
‘Revealing?’ said Hattie.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a scarf or anything you could drape round yourself?’ said Leonie.
‘No, or I’d have draped it.’
‘OK,’ Leonie said briskly. ‘You can wear my black leather jacket. Tom?’
‘I’ll fetch it from the car,’ he said obligingly.
‘Thank you, darling,’ said Leonie.
‘Yes, thank you, Tom,’ said Hattie.
A few minutes in the Ladies while Leonie fiddled around with her leather jacket, turning back the sleeves a little, experimenting with the collar up and down, and Hattie was ready. ‘Thank you so much, Lennie. I remembered everything, all the lists, the table plans, who’s allergic to what. I had a whole emergency kit that Rose made up for me, with double-sided tape and everything. I even did Mum’s hair. But I forgot the outfit.’
‘What was it?’ said Leonie, who was now repinning her own hair.
‘Knee length, with a petticoat, fifties. It was really pretty.’ She sighed.
‘Vintage?’
‘Borrowed from Mary, actually. You know? Who I live with?’
‘Did she lend you that dress too?’
Hattie nodded. Suddenly, for no reason, she wanted to cry. She cleared her throat. ‘I was so looking forward to wearing that outfit.’
‘Well, this is a lovely dress too. Now.’ Leonie burrowed in her handbag and produced a small scarf. ‘It needs ironing really,’ she said, ‘but I think we’ll manage.’ She folded the scarf and then tied it round Hattie’s neck. ‘Mum still won’t like it, but it actually looks great.’
Hattie looked at herself. ‘You’ve become far less… buttoned-up lately,’ she said. ‘At one time only a dress and jacket, or may be a coat and skirt, would have passed muster for this event. But I like this!’
‘Oh, I don’t think it’s suitable,’ said Leonie. ‘It isn’t at all. But as I said, it looks great.’
Hattie kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘Let’s go. The guests will be milling around not able to find their clearly marked tables.’
Having finally got everyone to their places, Hattie took her own. She was on the table designated for people who had to be invited but didn’t know anyone and were likely to feel awkward. She had put herself there because she knew she could make sure they enjoyed themselves. They included her mother’s cleaning lady, Mrs Simpson, and her husband. She had worked for her parents for at least fifteen years but they were still on Mr and Mrs terms.
‘I’m Hattie,’ she said to the table as she sat down. ‘The younger daughter. Our starters will be here in a minute and there’ll be wine, but there’s a bar. If anyone would like anything other than wine, I can get it. Gin and tonic? Cocktails?’
It took effort and quite a few drinks but eventually everyone on the table was chatting merrily, finding things in common (Married at First Sightproved to be generally popular viewing) and Hattie felt she could relax a bit.
