The fucking giggles.
If this assignment doesn’t kill me, all this fake smiling may just about finish me off.
Owen starts to respond, and I only partially listen as my thoughts drift off.
How sometimes I wished things had been different. What if he hadn’t left me? What if we had left together? So many what ifs.
“Are you okay?” His hand is warm on my thigh. He pulls it away as I glance down where his skin touches my bare leg from the slit in my dress.
“Yes, sorry. Did you say something?”
“No, but Juliette asked you a question.” He smiles politely. “Juliette, this Lucy. Lucy, this is Juliette and her husband, David.”
Juliette leans over and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you.” I drop her hand, taking a sip of my water for something to do.
“Owen has told us so much about his foster care experiences, but never mentioned you, Lucy.”
Surprise, surprise.
“I was only young, but Owen looked after me.” That wasn’t a lie. There’s one thing I’ve learnt in this business, is that lies are easier if they are closer to the truth. You’re less likely to be caught out. Bending a slight part of the story is easier than making the full thing up. “We didn’t have the best of times, did we, Owen? But we had each other, and we made do.”
“I think it makes the evening more special,” Juliette says, her smile wide.
“How so?” I ask.
“Well, we are here raising money for the Foster Foundation. Its very existence is to make sure support exists for both the families and children who provide foster care or find themselves in it.”
“Whether that be financial, emotional support, a helpline,” Owen adds, and my eyes widen in surprise. “Not all foster families have what they need or are equipped for just how challenging the children can be. Although help exists, government cuts have salami sliced the services so much so that people fall through the gaps.”
I nod, because I’ve experienced it firsthand. We both have. My ability to say anything seems to have disappeared.
“The helpline?” I whisper, a slight frog in my throat.
“It’s just that,” Juliette pipes up again. “It’s a 24/7 helpdesk that is there to provide support. Although the helpline isn’t just for foster families, it’s for anyone who needs it. Think Citizens Advice, but focused primarily on family support.”
“That’s…” I’m speechless. I look at Owen, my eyes piercing into his. “Amazing.”
Why am I so surprised?
Maybe it’s because I’ve completely tarnished him with the brush of a politician. But this, this is the kind, caring Owen that I know and love. No, not love,loved, andknew.
“Isn’t it?” David adds. “I met Owen at an event, and we both unfortunately have some bad experiences with the services in this country. And looking at your reaction, Lucy, it would seem we all have that in common. We got talking and decided to start something. We had no idea how much it was needed, and now with Owen onboard and making the waves he is, well, it’s a real opportunity.”
“For what?”
“For change,” Juliette says. “Tonight is the start of it all.” She grins. “Starting with Owen’s big speech.”
Our conversation is interrupted as the first course is delivered. The servers place beautifully plated food that looks more like a piece of artwork in front of each guest.
“Foie gras with rhubarb and duck breast,” the server introduces. “Bon appetit.” I glance down at the food and take my first bite, which melts in my mouth. A small moan escapes my lips and has Owen grinning at me.
“Always a sucker for a meal.”
“Have you tasted the duck?” I ask, taking another bite. He smiles, and something dips in my stomach. Something I choose to ignore.
The table seems nice enough. You have Juliette, orJulesas she likes to be called, and Dave who is now busy talking to the couple next to them. To my right is another couple, who, listening to their hushed whispers, appear to be having a slight domestic.
“I don’t understand why she is here, Liam. I’ve told you to—”
