‘If Marcus is so busy, why’s he walking over here right now?’ asked Cassie.
‘What?’ I said, turning around, just as Marcus slipped his hands around my waist, pulling me backwards into him. It did feel delicious. But also – in front of my mum? Brazen, or what? And it didn’t go unnoticed, of course. I saw Mum and Cassie raise their eyebrows at each other as though they hadn’t been expecting it – I wasn’t sure which part of all of it was so shocking to them, but I could hazard a guess; I wouldn’t have believed Marcus was that into me either.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, Ava?’ said Marcus, his breath warm on my neck, the amusement in his voice noticeable only to me, I imagined. Was he actuallyenjoyingthis?
I gritted my teeth. I was partly enjoying Marcus’s arms around me and partly wanting to kill him for bowling over here to interfere in the first place. As if I wanted him anywhere near the family drama that was bound to unfold, especially as Cassie was chugging wine – I hoped she’d checked the prices first. My plan had been to insist Mum and Cassie leave immediately, but I could hardly do that in front of him – as annoying as they were, I wouldn’t want to embarrass them in front of anyone else,particularly Cassie, who took anything she deemed as rejection exceptionally hard.
‘Mum, Cassie, this is Marcus,’ I stuttered, incapable of saying anything more at this point.
‘Call me Pauline,’ said Mum, holding out her hand for Marcus to shake, which he did, of course, and then politely shook Cassie’s too.
As he moved to stand next to me, I slipped my arm around his waist. For authenticity only, obviously. Okay, also maybe because feeling connected to him physically somehow gave me the boost of confidence I desperately needed right about now. Marcus could go out and play tennis in front of TV cameras and thousands of people – when you put it like that, I was pretty sure I could have a conversation with two family members in a bar.
‘I’m so glad we bumped into you,’ said Marcus, playing along with the idea that they’d just accidentally rocked up at the exact same place. ‘Ava has told me so much about you all. And you’ve probably been curious about the man who’s been dragging your daughter around Europe for the last few months.’
‘Well, yes, we did wonder,’ said Mum, who seemed to have turned into a simpering wreck on the spot.
‘Can I get you both a drink?’ asked Marcus.
‘Um ...’ said Mum, looking startled, as though nobody had ever offered to buy her a drink before. Then again, my dad had never been one to put his hand in his pocket without careful consideration – he probablyhadn’tever bought Mum an extortionately priced glass of wine at a swish Mayfair bar either, because there’s absolutely no way he’d be in there in the first place.
Marcus, clearly realising that this was a decision too far – presumably it was Mum and Cassie staring mutely at the menu that gave it away – stepped in.
‘How about a glass of champagne each?’ he suggested.
‘Only if you’re sure ...’ said Mum.
‘Of course,’ said Marcus breezily. ‘I’ll get you one, too, shall I, Ava?’
‘Yes please,’ I said, trying my best to lighten up. Maybe this didn’t have to be as bad as I’d imagined. And they’d have to head back to Paddington soon, wouldn’t they? There were a couple of trains after midnight, but they wouldn’t want to risk missing the last one.
Marcus squeezed my shoulder before taking his place at the bar. That helped. And at least champagne measures were quick to quaff.
Marcus was served immediately, meaning there was little time for me to glower at Mum and Cassie while they both gave me irritating fake-innocent looks, as if I was the one who was out of order here, which of course was usually how things felt for me in this family.
‘Here we go,’ said Marcus, handing a flute each to Mum and Cassie and then going back for ours.
‘So, tell me about your shopping trip,’ he said, looking at the bags strewn around their feet – Zara, H&M, Waterstones. Nothing special, but this definitely counted as a spree in my book.
Mum and Cassie proceeded to talk him through their purchases item by item, and while any other person might have found this as boring as hell, particularly a tennis star who probably only had his next match on his mind, Marcus looked focused and engaged, making positive-sounding noises in all the right places. I was having to work hard to match his energy so as not to seem like a sulky teenager in comparison, which unfortunately tended to be my default when I was around Mum and Cassie. I definitely didn’t want Marcus to see this far less attractive side of my personality – not yet, anyway. And he was actually very good with them. It had taken Charlie years to win them around, especially Mum, but here they were fawning all over him in less than five minutes.
‘We hadn’t realised things were getting so serious with the two of you,’ said Mum, somehow jumping from shopping to the one thing I really,reallydid not want to talk about. ‘One minute there’s a picture of you and Ava holding hands in some exotic place and next minute you’re in London, lookingverycosy together.’
That wasn’t really a compliment, was it? It was a word you might use if you caught your boyfriend having a flirty conversation with a stranger at the bar, for example. A sort ofWell, well, well, you two lookVerycosy.
‘We’re not making a big deal of it, Mum,’ I said. ‘Marcus is away a lot, so we haven’t spent that much time together.’
When Marcus found my hand and held it tight, I wasn’t sure which threw me most, the way having my palm pressed against his sent pleasure signals directly to my brain, or the look Cassie had given me when she saw him do it. I couldn’t quite name it. And if I couldn’t work out how she was feeling, how was I supposed to adjust my behaviour accordingly, because walking on eggshells around her and trying to please her had become an irritating habit. If I had to guess, she seemed kind ofpleasedabout Marcus and I being together, but this in itself seemed odd. She wasn’t usually happy when something went well for me.
‘What have you been up to, Cass?’ I asked gently. ‘How’s work?’
‘Shit,’ she replied with a shrug.
‘Cassie . . .’ said Mum ineffectually.
‘Where do you work, Cassie?’ asked Marcus.
I wished he hadn’t, because Cassie’s lack of career success was a constant source of disappointment for her, but I supposed he wasn’t to know and if I’d realised they were about to gatecrash my evening, I’d have bloody well briefed him, wouldn’t I?
