‘God, yes – I mean, think about it.’
‘I’d rather not.’ Enya sighed. Angela ignored her.
‘Someone who can tend to your garden, trim your bushes while serenading you with a song they’ve written just for you.’ Her sisterlooked into the middle distance, as if she were in her own world, a world Enya had no desire to enter. None at all.
‘Anyway, the point I was going to make, and here’s the kicker: the guy in the car park who I christened Handsome Car Klutz, HCK for short.’
‘Obvs.’
‘He’s Iris’s dad.’
‘What do you mean, he’s Iris’s dad?’
‘I mean, he is the father of the girl Aiden is going to marry!’ A fact that was as confusing as it was mortifying.
‘Flippin’ ’eck! That’s going to be interesting at the reception.’ Angela smirked. ‘What will you do? Play footsie under the top table?’
‘No, don’t start with that, it’s not funny! I can’t even joke about it. He’s married, obviously. And that’s it for me, I’m out.’ Just the thought was shameful. ‘And even if he wasn’t, it’s a non-starter. Not possible. I no doubt got the wrong end of the stick, that’s what happens when you live the Arctic fox life and are entirely out of practice. He was probably just being nice to me, chatty. I’m sure he’s nice to everyone.’ She decided not to mention the undeniable attraction and the frisson of tension when he’d spoken to her in the shed. Jonathan’s shed. She glanced towards the patio, where he now stood staring out at the garden. ‘It was just one of those weird things where he was dropping Iris off to get on a plane, and I was dropping Aiden off to get on a plane, and our kids met and fell in love on that plane, and that’s it, end of. It’s those two we need to concentrate on and this... wedding!’
‘Oh my God.’ Angela put her empty cup down and placed her palms on the tabletop.
‘What do you mean,Oh my God?’
‘You say it’s a non-starter, not possible, but Iknowyou, Enya Brown. I know that look in your eyes. Youlikehim, you like him, don’t you?’
Enya thought how best to proceed;with cautioncame to mind.
‘He’s married.’ She repeated, ‘married. He’s going to be Aiden’s father-in-law. I’ve met him twice. I like him as a person, as a good sort for Aiden to get entangled with, but that’s it. I don’t know him! Nothing is going to happen and I’d rather you didn’t mention it again.’ She kept her voice steady, hoping not to belie the disappointment that tinged this fact or share her thoughts that he just might be a cad. A cad who had ratherconvenientlysigned a lease on a flat, indicating he was moving out on theveryday he met her, or so he said... She could smell the BS a mile off. ‘I mean, my God, can you imagine what sorting through that situation would be like for Aiden?’ His words came to her now, spoken softly in the midst of his grief.
I’m so glad I’ve got you, Mum, no matter what happens I’ve always got you, haven’t I?
A knock put a halt to their chat. Enya’s heart leapt as she opened the front door to Jenny and Holly! It felt wonderful to see her friend, to be this close to her. Jenny, however, could barely meet her eye and this swiped all possible joy from the reunion. It wasn’t their presence that was disheartening, but rather the change in the way it felt that threw her completely.
Holly looked deflated, hollowed out and in pain. Her skin grey, her darting eyes swollen and red. Jenny seemed to have lost weight in the days since Enya had last seen her. Two bruises of fatigue sat beneath her eyes, and with her hands clasped in front of her, she looked like a stranger. There was nothing in her demeanour to suggest this was the same woman with whom she shared snacks at three in the morning, or who had suggested they dance in the kitchen full of plonk and pudding. But at least they were here, and that had to be a start.
‘Oh! Come in! Come in!’ She stood back to let the subdued twosome pass, simultaneously glad of her sister’s presence while wishing she were not here, knowing her tendency to be blunt.
‘Thanks.’ Jenny gave her a small, closed-mouth smile that didn’t reach her eyes; it was like a knife to Enya’s chest and about as painful.
‘Angela and I are in the kitchen.’
No sooner had Holly set foot inside the door than she started to cry. It was awful to see. She cried with her whole body. Shoulders heaving, posture cowed, head low, hands at her mouth, eyes raw and her mouth open, as she let silent howls of distress spiral from the purest kind of despair deep inside her and leave her body like smoke.
‘Holly . . .’
Enya took her into her arms and held her close to her chest, as the girl fell against her, weakened, and altered. Gone was her effervescence, her irritating and unrelenting upbeat energy, her verve!
‘The doctor has given her something to calm her down.’ Jenny spoke with the quiet anguish of a mother whose child was hurting.
‘Is he... is...’ Holly began, her voice no more than a rough whisper, as if her distress had stripped her throat of its velvet and its volume.
‘He’s not here. He’s at work. Come and sit down, love.’
Holly allowed herself to be guided to the table, where she stumbled before taking a seat opposite Angela, who, aside from reaching out to rub the girl’s arm, thankfully stayed silent. Jenny too sat.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘No, thanks.’ Jenny’s speech was controlled, exact, with an undercurrent that left Enya in no doubt that things between them were broken, entirely broken. ‘Holly wanted to come and see you.’
