‘Of course we’ll show you the photos, but Sean and I… We kind of wanted to get back to his place and…’
‘Oh, I see.’ Pique pinched Pam’s tone again, but she diverted attention from Cherry to someone who didn’t bother her quite as much. ‘Do you have many siblings, Sean?’
‘Aye.’ Sean glanced at Cherry, clearly aware that her mum was making a point.
Cherry smiled faintly as an indication that she was okay, letting him do the good-son-in-law thing.
‘I’ve four brothers and two sisters.’
‘Ah, well, that’s lovely. Your lucky mother. I always wanted some siblings for Cherry, but it never did happen. And do you all live near to her?’
‘Four of us live in Kinshore. My eldest brother and my two sisters are in Edinburgh, although one travels a lot for work.’
‘That’s nice. I’ve a daughter with a flat in Edinburgh, whom I see three days a year, if I’m lucky.’
Cherry held her nerve. ‘It’s more than that, Mum.’ Although, maybe it wasn’t much more. Perhaps they should stay, at least for tea, but they’d literally got off the flight from New York and driven here from Glasgow airport. Cherry couldn’t bear another atrocious night of not consummating her marriage. She was pretty sure Sean was feeling thesame, and their first time could not be in a manky old caravan or a dusty B&B.
‘Why don’t we stay for something to eat?’ she suggested. This was a halfway house, which would hopefully appease her mum. And give less time for the conversation to turn sour. She squeezed Sean’s hand, and he did the same back.
‘Sounds good to me. If it’s not too much trouble, Mrs Paradise.’
‘Call me Pam. And it’s a pleasure. As long as you’re okay with quiche and Bird’s Eye potato waffles.’
‘I love quiche and Bird’s Eye potato waffles.’
As soon as her mum left the caravan to borrow some waffles from ‘Colin down the way’, a giggling Cherry slid onto Sean’s knee, and they began making up for lost time.
‘How am I sitting in a caravan in Fife, about to eat quiche and waffles, when I should be at home doing things to my wife?’ He dusted his lips over her earlobe, kissing her right in the spot under it that he’d discovered threw her completely.
‘Mmm, welcome to paradise. I never said it was literal paradise.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ Sean murmured, hands coasting over the side of her breasts. ‘God, I cannot wait for you, Cherry. Fuck, I need to stop; I can’t be getting turned on at your mum’s.’
‘It’s hard for me too, you know. Have you any idea how wet I am?’
‘Have I what?’ Sean splutter-laughed. ‘Oh, just you wait, Paradise. You’re going to get it so hard for that gigantic tease when I’m five hours from home.’
‘So hard? You promise?’
‘Aye. In fact, fuck it. We’re getting a hotel. I’m booking theBalmoral. We’re going to consummate five-star style tonight.’ Sean picked up his phone from the Formica table but laid it down as Pam reappeared up the steps with a box of waffles.
‘Here we go,’ she said. ‘Nothing says welcome to the family like some Bird’s Eye potato waffles. And after tea, I’ll give you both a reading.’
Cherry stood from Sean’s knee. ‘Mum, you can just call them waffles. And we’re good for the reading, thanks.’ Sean didn’t mind, but he had no idea how blunt her mum could be.
The quiche and Bird’s Eye potato waffles were accompanied by tomato ketchup and a full-scale interrogation of Sean. Pam needed to build a full profile of where he was from, who his parents were and what they did for a living, as well as his siblings, their jobs and partners. Also important was Sean’s star sign and date, time and place of birth, accidents or major operations, and any other miscellaneous detail he wished to declare.
Cherry was only grateful that the pressure was off her.
The plates cleared away and Pam disappeared to the bedroom, returning with a tarot deck – something that provoked a conditioned response of clammy hands in Cherry.
‘Mum, seriously, can we not?’
‘Such a sceptic.’ Pam winked at Sean from across the table. ‘Come on now, let’s see what the cards are saying today.’
Cherry rose to wash the dishes – infinitely preferable to this. Protesting would only make her seem churlish and irrational. After all, if tarot cards were such pseudoscience, then why did she care either way?
Because what if they weren’t pseudoscience? There had been things her mum had said in the past that were scarilyon the money. Relationship endings she’d foretold on more than one occasion. Catastrophic loss Cherry had endured that her mum predicted would happen again – and it had. What if Sean’s reading said that their marriage was doomed, that his perfect wife was prone to failure on a life-altering scale, and he should turn and head for the hills now?
