Enya was tired and, with one eye on the clock, the moment the plates were cleared and having declined pudding, she said to the assembled, ‘I really should be heading off. It’s been a lovely day, wonderful in fact.’
‘Thank you for coming, Enya. I’m so excited about everything, about the wedding, about our choices, about my dress,’ Iris beamed,‘but I’m most excited about being married to AJ, our life together and getting to know you better.’
There was no doubt about it. Iris, who didn’t have Holly’s overly enthusiastic or sweet nature, seemed no less lovely. Certainly, she spoke of all the things Enya had ever wanted for her boy and yet... she couldn’t help the underlying sense of frustration that if Iris Sutherland had been allocated a different seat, if she had missed the bloody flight, Aiden would still be with Holly. She, Jenny and Phil would be going crazy with excitement for the new baby, Enya would not feel the need to hide from Maeve like a criminal, Jonathan would still be around, and right about now she’d probably be ordering business cards for the new floral venture with her best friend. It wasn’t Iris’s fault, of course not, but still, this was her unpalatable truth.
‘Can I help with the dishes or clearing up, before I leave? I don’t like the idea of abandoning you with the mess.’
‘Oh God, no!’ Trish waved her hand. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘Well, thank you, once again, and come to me next time.’ It was a glib offer that she prayed she wouldn’t have to honour. Just the thought of Dominic walking into her home was enough to unsettle her even further.
‘We will, we will.’ Trish nodded.
Aiden and Iris gathered salad bowls and dirty plates, ferrying them to the kitchen, as Trish leaned across the table and fixed her with a stare.
‘I’m on to you!’ Trish narrowed her eyes, her hot-pink lipstick, which sat a little proud of her lip line, curled into a sneer.
‘Oh? What have I done now?’ Her laugh was nervous, exaggerated and awkward, as her heart jumped up into her throat. She wondered if Trish was going to mention Fishstick.
Trish unfurled her index finger and pointed it towards Enya’s face. ‘You didn’t make those blondies, did you?’
‘Blondies?’ It took her a split second to grasp the thread.
‘You’re no baker! You didn’t even know the recipe!’ The woman tutted loudly.
‘You got me!’ She held her hands up, like a comic cowboy who’d been shot by a pop gun where a little flag falls out sayingBang!
‘I bloody knew it!’ Trish stood and teetered on her wedged heel, leaning on the chair in front of her. ‘What else are you fibbing about?’
‘Oh, nothing else, just that. I am no baker and,’ she thought hard, ‘I know I said the swans sounded lovely, but actually, I think they might be a bit much!’ She laughed, knowing how funny Angela and Jenny would find this in the retelling, before remembering all over again that she would only be telling Angela.
‘That’s what my husband said, but he’s a shit. All this!’ She let her arm fall over her head in an arc. ‘And yet he’d rather be in a boat shed. Shall, shall I tell you a little secret?’ Trish banged the table.
Enya gave a small nod, not sure how many more Sutherland secrets she could contain.
‘I’d rather he was there too! He’s got a bloody flat. He’s off!’
Enya felt her legs jump under the table,shit!She did not want to be having this conversation, did not want to be party to any of it! Doing her best to look engaged without offering an opinion, she stared at the table.
‘But don’t tell Iris!’ Trish put her fingers on her lips and sat down hard in her seat, leaning even closer, almost lying on the tabletop, until Enya could smell the sour notes of wine on her breath and seeping from her pores. ‘I’ve got my eye on you, Enya!’
It was mere seconds before Iris’s mother pulled her arms into a cradle on the surface and placed her head on them, falling into a sleep almost immediately.
Enya didn’t quite know what to do, and so sat very still, wary of waking the woman and inviting any more commentary on herdeceitful baking claims and petrified as to what else Trish might want to say. It was a horrible feeling, leaving her covered in a fine film of discomfort that she couldn’t wait to shower off. Proof, as if more proof were needed, that to steer clear of Dominic was the right thing to do. To be in the middle of him and Trish was a little more than she could cope with.
‘Oh, Mum.’ Iris sounded neither angry nor surprised as she approached the table. ‘Sorry, Enya, she’s, she’s got a lot on at the moment.’
‘Honestly, Iris,’ Enya placed her bag over her shoulder and wondered where her car keys were, ‘it’s been quite a week, and if I thought I could get away with a little nap on the table, I’d probably do the same. Anyway, I should be going.’ She stood and declined to look back at her host, knowing that if she were asleep, snoring loudly, as Trish now was, the last thing she’d want would be an audience.
‘See you soon, Enya,’ Iris offered distractedly, without any suggestion of a hug or a smile, both of which Holly gave in abundance.
‘Yes, see you soon.’ Enya noticed how she kept glancing at her mother with something that looked a lot like concern.
Aiden followed her out to the car and handed her the keys.
‘Will you be okay? You know the way?’ he asked, as she climbed into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirror.
‘Of course I will. I know the way, and if I didn’t I’d use the sat nav on my phone. Easy. Willyoube all right?’ It felt a lot like abandoning him here, the same way she’d felt when leaving him at nursery for the first time.
