Phil yelled, Holly laughed, and Aiden stared at the man as Holly climbed down, holding his arm, beaming as if she’d won something glorious.
‘He’s home!’ Holly shouted, jumping up and down on the spot.
‘I can see that!’ Phil tutted, eyes smiling, before he parked further along the road. Enya felt her insides shrink and sank down into the driver’s seat.
She wondered if this was what it would feel like from now on in the street that was her haven; this discomfort that verged on excruciating. She wiped her face and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her heart broke for Holly, whose only crime was loving Aiden a little too much. Yet it was also full of worry for Aiden, who she could see was about to jump, trusting of the fall. It was a moment,among many others, when she wished with her whole heart that Jonathan was here to help navigate what lay ahead.
As Phil made his way along the pavement, arriving to slap Aiden on the back and receive a kiss from his daughter, Enya took the opportunity to creep from the car, smile her greeting as best she could, and slip inside her house. She actively avoided the man who would regularly pop in for a cup of tea, a sandwich or toast, seemingly always hungry. It might have been cowardly, but she felt quite unable to witness the affection Phil displayed towards her son, equally did not under any circumstances want to be around for the conversation Aiden was set to have with Holly. And crucially, she couldn’t stand the deceit of perpetuating a grand reunion complete with freshly baked blondies and excited details shared of a redecorated bedroom. It felt much easier to hide in the kitchen. She put the radio on, hoping the chatter of Radio 4 might be enough to divert her from the fact that she thought she might throw up.
‘I honestly don’t know what to think, Jonathan, don’t know what to make of it all!’ She breathed deeply. ‘God only knows how Jenny and Phil are going to react. What do I say to them?’
She ran her fingers through her hair at the prospect, but knew that it was really nothing to do with her or them; it was all about Aiden and Holly and how Holly was going to react to Aiden and Iris. It sounded alien in her thoughts.Iris, and Aiden...Aiden and Iris...nope. It was going to take some getting used to.
It became clear after ten minutes that the duo was not coming back into the house, a fact for which she felt nothing but sweet relief. Then the sound of a car engine. Sidling into the sitting room, she peeped out of the sash window, beneath her bespoke Roman blinds in grass-green and raspberry stripes, just in time to see her son in her little Audi perfect a three-point turn and drive out of the cul-de-sac. Phil was nowhere to be seen. Holly was in the passenger seat, but she couldn’t see their faces. Had Aiden told her already?Or had he indeed taken one look at the gorgeous girl and changed his mind? And then what would Enya do with the knowledge? What would Mr and MrsSutherlanddo?
It was bizarre and confusing how utterly complicated the whole situation felt in such a short space of time, and to think she’d spent the day fretting over supper and keeping the kitchen floor spotless.
‘Sweet Jesus! What a day!’ She decided to break with convention and poured herself a glass of the chilled rosé. Never one to drink alone, but if ever an occasion called for it...
Standing in the kitchen, she watched the sun set behind the old red-brick wall at the foot of the garden, noting how the bright-blue sky dropped a shade or two to take on an almost lavender haze, and the trees, as if startled by the change in temperature, shivered in the early evening breeze. Her stomach felt as if it were shredded. There was certainly no temptation to dive into the salmon en croute that now sat congealing on top of the range, or indeed the prawn cocktail that she had so fussed over.
With her phone in her hand, Enya tried to compose a text to Jenny, but was paralysed by doubt. To reveal the news if her friend was as yet unaware would be awful. To inform her unnecessarily, if Aidenhadchanged his mind, worse; how would she ever explain that? But worse still, the prospect of not mentioning it at all, making some quip about their planned night ahead, as if nothing was amiss, if Jennydidknow. It was a minefield. Placing her phone on the countertop, she decided it was better to wait it out.
She took deep breaths, trying to quash the rising sense of panic, drank the cold rosé and cleaned the sink, fed Pickle, stacked the dishwasher, folded laundry into drawers, and in need of further distraction, revisited the mini crossword that she and Jonathan liked to finish as they ate supper. Her heart constantly jumped as she imagined Holly’s face, as Aiden broke her heart.
‘Five down, twelve letters,unable to alleviate, often sadness,’ she read the clue aloud and studied the letters she already had. ‘I, something, something O, something, something O...’ She tapped the puzzle with the tip of her retractable pencil, her mind, much like the little squares she so desperately wanted to fill, blank.
The front doorbell rang. Had Aiden forgotten his key? But it was not Aiden on the step. It was Phil, and this time there was no air of joviality, no jolly humour or laughter, no quip about tiramisu. No hungry man in search of a snack. His eyes were small, lips thin, his face scarlet, he looked angry. It was everything she had feared and more.
‘Where is he?’ This his greeting, his jaw tense as he rocked on his heels, his shoulder twitching, hands balled into fists.
Her heart jumped now for different reasons, she was scared. ‘I don’t...’
‘Don’t give me that, where is he, Enya?’ Uninvited, he stepped into the hallway and called loudly up the stairs, ‘You can run, you little prick, but you can’t hide!’
‘Phil, for God’s sake! I’ve told you – he’s not here!’
His chest heaved and he breathed through his nose; it was frightening to be alone and this close to someone this angry, the man completely unrecognisable as the one she had encountered in the street earlier.
‘Do you know what’s going on? Have you heard what he’s gone and done?’
‘I know the outline, the—’
‘Course you do!’ He narrowed his eyes at her and took a step forward. It was at once accusatory and unpredictable.
‘You need to calm down, you can’t come into my home and talk to me like this, we’re neighbours, Phil, we’ve been friends for a very long time.’
He ignored her and she felt the ripple of anger dilute the fear in her veins, knowing without doubt that if Jonathan were here, Phil would not dream of talking to her like this or intimidating her with his bulk inside her own home. His behaviour was also an indicator of what Jenny might be feeling, this thought more than she could handle. She felt tears prickle the back of her eyes. Jenny was her best friend, her very best friend. And Phil had been Jonathan’s.
‘I don’tneedto do anything. I’ve just had my little girl on the phone and she’s,’ he looked away and gathered himself, his voice breaking, ‘she’s distraught, her mother’s with her. We can’t leave her alone. And I want a word with that son of yours.’
‘Phil, I told you, he’s not here,’ she repeated. ‘Look, this is nothing to do with me and nothing to do with you or Jen. It’s difficult, of course it is, but—’
‘Difficult?’ he spat. ‘You should hear her, you shouldseeher.’ His bottom lip trembled.
‘I can’t stand to think of her so upset.’ She meant it,little Holly Hudson...She fought to contain her own tears.
Phil ran his palm over his face. ‘She’s broken, Enya. Absolutely broken.’
