‘Manchester,’ she replied, ‘but I moved to London when I was twen?—’
‘No, I meanoriginally.’ William’s gaze bored into her forehead over the silver candlesticks.
‘Um, I was born in Manchester,’ she said pleasantly, while Tommy patted his clammy forehead with a napkin and tried to veer them down an alternative path.
‘Dad, I was thinking we could take Lena on the forest walk tomorrow. What d’you think?—’
‘I mean, where were yourparentsfrom?’ William boomed.
‘Well, my dad’s from Bangladesh,’ Lena explained in a perfectly level tone, ‘and he met my mum, who’s from Yorkshire, when he moved to England in the sixties.’
‘Ahhh,’ William said, apparently satisfied that he had managed to finally drag the correct information from her.
Then later, over after-dinner drinks, Tommy’s mother started on her. ‘So you don’t have anychildren?’ In the tone of, ‘So I hear you don’t wear anyknickers?’
‘No, I don’t.’ Lena’s reserves of pleasantness were dwindling rapidly.
‘Mum, I hear you’re thinking of renovating the summer house!’ Tommy announced.
Ignoring this, Annabelle peered expectantly at Lena, as if awaiting an explanation. Lena toyed with telling this pinch-faced woman the truth. That she and her ex-husband had tried to get pregnant, and when nothing had happened he had been unwilling to try IVF, so she’d had to let it go. And how it had turned out that the fertility issues were on her side, as throughout all of the trying and sheer desolation whenever her period arrived, he’d been shagging someone else. Clearly, Max’s sperm had been plentiful and upwardly mobile as, before Lena had discovered what was going on, his lover had had a baby.
‘We have four,’ Annabelle boasted.
Well done! Lena wanted to applaud her. How fantastically clever of you!
‘Mum, Lena knows all about our family,’ Tommy said in a pained voice.
‘All boys,’ Annabelle trilled. ‘Quite the little team!’
‘Yes, I bet.’ Lena eyed her almost empty wine glass, willing it to magically refill.
‘…Been wonderful seeing them all grow up,’ Annabelle went on, sipping her Chablis. Yes, so I’ve heard. Each one of them packed off to boarding school at seven years old. ‘All excellent at sports!’ Amazing really, as Tommy hated school sports due to that pervy teacher who’d make the boys line up and hold out their rugby shorts to check they weren’t wearing pants underneath… ‘We’re so very, very proud,’ Annabelle drawled, waggling her glass, which William beetled over to refill.
Then the talk turned to Catherine, Tommy’s ex-wife – who had of course managed to produce a child – and of whom Annabelle is clearly very fond. ‘HowisCatherine, Tommy?’ she asked, throwing Lena a quick look.
Lena turns away from Tommy now and looks down onto their street. It’s a crisp, bright Sunday morning and across the road, a young couple are carrying a Christmas tree into their block. ‘Darling, I’m so bloody sorry, I can’t tell you.’ Tommy stands behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, trying to coax her round to face him. But she isn’t in the mood for hugs now. Lena disentangles herself and escapes to their bedroom where she grabs her phone, brings up the group chat with Shelley and Pearl, and types a message.
Lena
Just found out Tommy’s parents are coming here for Christmas!
Shelley
WHAT?!
Pearl
That’s crazy! What’s going on?
Lena
Tree fell down. Loads of damage to the family pile. You could call it a natural disaster.
Shelley
Or an act of God?
Lena
