Before she knew it, she found herself being enthusiastically folded into the most passionate kiss of her life. She tangled her fingers into Max’s hair, willing the moment never to end, before a light cough from Charlie brought them both crashing back to earth.
Max leaned against a nearby pew with a light groan of relief. ‘Thank god for that. Oh, Etta. My Etta.’ He wrapped his jacket around her carefully and then paused thoughtfully. ‘Do you think Mrs Baggins will share the trifle recipe after this?’
Etta beamed and leaned forwards, giving Max one last, brief kiss loaded with promise. Life had never felt so bright.
Charlie made a noise of mild disbelief behind them. ‘What the hell is it with you two and that bloody trifle? Honestly.’
Chapter 50
2024
Now they’d been assured of their happy ending, there was something they were both putting off. Stella knew it, Hetty knew it – and they both knew they knew it.
The rush of media interest over their videos had distracted everyone from highlighting the fact that Hetty and Stella had been spending every moment together. Except those Stella spent at her job, though somehow it was often more convenient for Hetty to write her online diary from the empty corner desk.
The aunts had exchanged mischievous looks but said nothing as they left the two curled up together on the sofa every night watching films. Hetty pretended not to notice Elliot poking Stella in the ribs every now and then as he set up the camera for videos. Perhaps he wasn’t looking his new guest bedroom-shaped gift horse in the mouth, but he didn’t mention her mother either – for that Hetty knew Stella was grateful.
But now they’d been invited onto a major American talk show, and they were being flown first class. Elliothad a dissertation to hand in. The aunts said they couldn’t make it either, and though they’d never confirmed or denied anything, only one hotel room had been booked for them.
Hetty had thought about it constantly. Of course she had. ‘What do you think our room will be like?’ she asked, looking at Stella timidly, before getting confirmation that the Americans did still drink tea.
But Stella had just smiled flirtatiously, which had done wild things to Hetty’s insides.
Elliot’s subsequent revelations about Americans microwaving their hot water had distracted them all seconds later, but not before Stella had time to register Hetty’s reddened cheeks and bitten lip.
Excitement for their upcoming trip was tempered by the constant, angry calls Stella was receiving from her mother. The previous evening she’d actually thrown her phone across the room in frustration and Elliot had to go out and get the screen fixed.
Therefore, they were all surprised by the silence that day, which Hetty tentatively brought up.
‘Your mother seems to have been rather quiet tonight, Stella?’
Stella didn’t look up from the novel she was reading. ‘Oh, I blocked her number. I know the urge to triumphantly win back another “lost soul” will quickly trump the embarrassment of having a morally redundant daughter, and hearing about either of those options sucks.’
Hetty knew that Stella was trying to sound blasé about it all, but she wasn’t quite pulling it off.
‘That’s a lot of words to use just to say our mum’s a cow, Stella,’ said Elliot.
‘Oh, I’ve had more than enough time to think about it. She tries so hard, but she’s trying the completely wrong thing.’
‘My mother was like that,’ Hetty said quietly. ‘She tried so hard, but I just wasn’t the right kind of daughter for her. I could never provide what she wanted from me.’
Stella nodded. ‘I don’t want to live a life where I can’t be myself,’ she said blankly.
‘Me neither,’ said Hetty. ‘And I’ve got you to thank for teaching me that. But I’m still sorry,’ she added. ‘I wish we could get through to your mother. I wish you could be in each other’s lives.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ said Stella. ‘And I wish you could have been yourself where you came from, though I can’t pretend I’m sorry you’re here now instead.’
They were briefly silent, as Stella’s hand found Hetty’s across the table. The air crackled between them.
And then Elliot coughed, and Hetty went back to asking a barrage of questions about aeroplanes. They were going to be interviewed for television, a mind-boggling thought too big to fit in anyone’s heads – but Hetty was more concerned about the idea of hurtling through the sky in what sounded suspiciously like a baked bean tin.
Although Stella was trying to move forward, Stella’s mother and her pastor had other ideas. As her mother’s phone calls were no longer getting through, they came knocking a few days later. Unfortunately for them it was Aggie who opened the door. Even worse, Jemima was at home.
It would have been terribly poignant and dramatic, Hetty imagined, had it not ended up with Hetty comforting Stella on the sofa while they listened to Lady Agatha Bainbridge schooling the unwelcome visitors on the history of lesbianism and women’s rights in the UK with Jemima spurring her on.
Stella sobbed against her shoulder and Hetty found she too was crying. She hated to see her confident, happy-go-lucky love so battered down.
One last angry shout echoed across the hall. ‘I hope you’re happy, Estella!’
