‘I... I can’t remember.’ Enya felt sick and focused on the lovely, lolloping dog, anything other than meet anyone’s eye. The thought of having to come up with a scenario that would only take her further along the path of deceit made her want to throw up. ‘Not sure, but I think Aiden or Iris must have.’
Thankfully, no one seemed to pick up on it. Iris herself changed the subject. And Enya feared she might pass out with relief. She stood up straight, keen to put as much space between her and the dog that had nearly been her undoing as was possible.
‘It’s not going to be a big wedding, but we have about fifty coming, people we absolutely have to invite, immediate family, my closest friends, Mum’s closest friends, that kind of thing. Thankfully, some people couldn’t make it, what with it being short notice and the holiday season.’
‘Yes, of course!’ She hadn’t considered this.
‘We can’t get married legally here so we’ll have the ceremony and then the Monday after we’ll go to the registry office, that’s just going to be AJ and me and two mates to witness. I want the wedding at home to be the “wedding”,’ she flexed her fingers to put this in air quotes, ‘and the registry office thing will be purely administrative.’
‘That makes sense.’ Enya swallowed this horrid new feeling of alienation that she was unaware of the detail. It was the opposite of how Holly and she interacted; Enya even knew what perfume the girl would have worn on her big day. The big day that never was. She felt the fold of exclusion in the base of her stomach at the thought of her boy getting married without her. ‘Also, I wanted to say, I’d really like to make a contribution to the cost, happy to go halves or whatever works.’
It was far from comfortable talking about money in this way, especially as they were strangers.
‘Oh goodness, no!’ Trish answered. ‘We only have the one daughter, her dad would be mortified not to do this for her. But thank you, Enya, bless you!’
There was much to unpick about the woman’s response, not least the way she seemed to dismiss the fact that Enya only had the one son, and would have liked to have paid for something, anything! Also, the way she addedbless youindicated that she suspected Enya might be incapable of making a financial contribution, what with her living in such a cutesy cottage and all.
‘We need your invite list,’ Iris continued. ‘AJ’s been useless – apart from his nan and grandad and his Auntie Angela and Uncle Frank, two mates from school, three from uni, Jim, of course, and a few of the rugby lads, and one from work, he’s drawn a blank!’
Enya opened her mouth to remark that he’d forgotten Holly and her parents, so used was she to them being a pair, so entwined were their histories that it still felt most odd to think of them as separate. How she wished Jenny was going to be present, her ally in every situation, until now.
‘We’re a very small family.’ She hated how apologetic she sounded.
‘Yes, but your bestie, who’s your bestie?’ Trish asked, as she filled a glass kettle with water and set it to boil.
‘Erm.’ She looked out towards Aiden, who was securing the awning and adjusting a chair to make sure it was in line.Jonathan... Jonathan was my bestie... but I’ve lost him. Jen was my next bestie, but I’ve lost her too...‘My sister, I suppose. My sister, Angela.’
She looked around in time to see the lingering look of wide-eyed judgement shared between Trish and her daughter. Glad she hadn’t yet discarded her bag, she gripped the handle, something on which to steady her shaky hands.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The sun had dropped a little and a pleasant breeze blew up from the valley below. Enya had declined a second glass of wine and switched to sparkling water, not that it had dented the enthusiasm of the others, who had sunk a couple of bottles. The chatter had been about all things wedding, and now, as Trish ended her rather tense phone call, there was an embarrassed hush around the table.
‘I don’t bloody believe it, your dad’s not coming back this evening, a problem with the boat. I don’t know why he doesn’t just sail off on the bloody thing and be done with it.’
‘You don’t mean that. Besides, you were always telling him to get a hobby, get out of the house, and now he has!’ Iris spoke now in defence of her dad, and Enya saw the conflict. Iris had earlier lamented his absence and yet now represented him when her mum slated him. She understood more than most how exhausting it was to be so pulled in two directions.Brittle.
‘Yes, you’re right, I did tell him to get a hobby, but I didn’t think he’d be out the house permanently! You were right, what you said earlier, it’s like he’s got another child or another woman, and her name isFoula Girl.’
Enya reached for her drink, keen to hide her face and become falsely preoccupied with her sparkling water, anything other than participate in the chat about Dominic’s other woman. Or worse, give any hint that she had knowledge ofFoula Girl...her slip-up with Fishstick earlier still sat uncomfortably under her skin like a tiny thorn.
‘I can do the BBQ!’
Aiden spoke with an energy that Enya rarely saw when it came to chores around the cottage. He’d been like this all day, and she understood: his desire to be liked by his future mother-in-law, his need to impress Iris, to show her that she was making a good choice when it came to husband material. But she’d be lying if she said it didn’t bother her. What would Jonathan say? He’d say,It’s good that he can be himself when he’s at home with you, relax and not feel the need to perform.Andit will all settle down here in time.
Yes, it was good advice.
Yet she’d counter it with her concern that their son appeared to be marrying a woman with whom he didn’t seem entirely at ease. She and Jonathan would no doubt argue a little about it and let it settle until they agreed and compromised. It was their way. Had always been their way. There was nothing they couldn’t say, nothing she couldn’t raise, nothing either of them had to hide. Until now, when she had felt a visceral longing for another man’s body and had, at least once, forgotten her husband while enthralled with the man. It didn’t feel good.
Any flicker of irritation, however, at Aiden’s behaviour was smothered with the blanket of relief that she wasn’t going to have to face Dominic. And with this relief, as ever, came the guilt that she had a need to feel this way at all.
With new bottles of wine now lined up on the table, she watched as Trish indulged, noting again how fond she was of the tipple and the speed with which she downed her glass, notjudging, but wondering if maybe she wasn’t quite as confident as she presented. If circumstances were different, she thought she might try to get to know the woman better. But how could that be when the memory of being held in Dominic’s arms was still her most dominant thought? Trish, she knew, may not be smiling if she were aware of the situation, which meant every sip and every bite Enya consumed was laced with self-consciousness.
It had been the strangest of days. It still felt surreal that Aiden was getting married even as they picked ribbon colours, chose red velvet cake over Iris’s favourite of lemon, based purely on the aesthetic, and selected fonts in which place names would be printed. It still felt otherworldly, the very thought that her son was marrying this woman he’d known for such a short time and, in doing so, joined their families together. Hardest of all was the simple fact that this union seemed to be roaring ahead with unstoppable momentum, and whether right or wrong, she wasn’t sure there was a darn thing she could do to stop it.
Not for the first time, she thought of Holly Hudson and hoped she had found some time to rest.
The BBQ was adequate but not fancy, an overly burnt sausage, a dry burger and a basic salad, exactly what Aiden would have prepared on their rusty old BBQ by the shed, and not on this mega machine that resembled a large bullet and looked like it had fallen straight off the front page of a fancy garden catalogue. She was, however, grateful for their fabulous hospitality, the kindness.
