‘Do you think you’re having a boy or a girl?’ Maeve asked softly. ‘We should do the wedding ring test.’ She sounded very keen.
‘The wedding ring test? I don’t know what that is.’ Holly flexed her fingers.
Enya, like all present, it seemed, was drawn to Holly’s hand, where there was a distinct lack of wedding ring. Not that she gave a fig about the convention, but knew it had mattered to Holly, knewitwouldmatter to Holly. That, and she carried the thought that another young woman would be getting the ring.
‘We’ve been doing it for years!’ Maeve chuckled. ‘I remember sitting excitedly at the kitchen table while a knowing neighbour dangled my mum’s wedding ring over my bump. Whether it spins in a circle or swings back and forth in a line lets you know whether you’re carrying a girl or a boy. Oh, the elation, when I learnt my new baby was to be a girl! I instantly named her Felicity, don’t know where I got that name from, and pictured the hours we would spend together; I’d plait her hair and help take care of her dolls.’
‘How is Lesley doing?’ Phil asked after Maeve’s daughter, who lived in Northampton.
‘Oh, it wasn’t Lesley, turned outthatbaby was our Andrew: the six-foot plumber, father of one and a man who has never had the slightest interest in letting me plait his hair, or playing with dolls.’
They all laughed.
Phil smiled at Enya, and she felt her heart lift. It was how it used to be. He was a smart man who used to make Jonathan howl with laughter, and vice versa, and this small smile in recognition of Maeve spouting poppycock took her right back. A reminder of how much she needed her tribe, her friends, and how her life without them had made living here seem unstable and thin.
‘We’ve always said we don’t mind what we have, as long as it’s healthy.’ Holly spoke quietly, already halfway through her sentence, it seemed, before remembering there was nowe.
‘That’s the spirit, love,’ Phil took her small hand inside his and held it tightly, ‘and I don’t mind what we get, as long as it loves rugby. I’ve already been online and found a little Bristol Bears kit!’
Their laughter was now somewhat subdued, all possibly thinking, like she was, how matchday had always been a big deal for Jonathan, Phil and Aiden. The traditional fry-up, a pint or two, then off to Ashton Gate to watch the Bears romp home.
‘Aiden not here, then?’ Maeve looked towards the stairs, as if he might be hiding upstairs.
‘No, he stayed at Iris’s. It’s been a bit of a day, full steam ahead wedding planning, I’ve eaten cake and deliberated over ribbons. I know I’m tired, I can only imagine how he’s faring.’ Enya took a large mouthful of tea, and it was only when she lowered her mug and met the gaze of four horrified faces that she understood how tiredness, and the relaxed nature of this gathering, had given her a false sense of friendship, encouraging her to speak without filter. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she knew instantly what she had done.
‘Are you joking? He’s gettingmarried? To Iris...Iris...’ Holly gripped the edge of the table as she breathed with her mouth open, eyes glazed with shock. Phil threw his arm around her. ‘Enya! Tell me he’s not gettingmarried, he can’t be!’
‘Come on, love, let’s get you home.’ Phil helped his daughter from her seat as Jenny, in a trance-like state, stood.
Enya felt as if a hole had opened up in the universe and all the forgiveness and all the jollity had disappeared into it, aware that she had yet again messed up spectacularly. She sat still, numb with shock and self-reproach. Her neighbours, their heads shaking and with a low-level murmur of collective disapproval, walked towards the front door. Maeve carried the milk pan in her hand.
‘What the bloody hell is wrong with him, Enya?Married?Does he get some kick out of what he’s putting her through?’ Jenny asked with a tremble to her bottom lip, all thoughts of reconciliation now scrubbed. ‘It’s cruel, cruel and unfathomable to me!’
‘There’s nothing wrong with him, Jen. He just met someone and has fallen for her and wants to be with her and they’re getting married, in a few weeks, actually. And I know how hard this is, it’s hard for us all, for me too.’
‘Is that right?’ Jenny snapped, clearly believing she had the upper hand when it came to the pain of this situation. ‘All I can say is, God helpIris!’ She spat the word. ‘And now my daughter has a name that will taunt her in the middle of the night. So thank you for that too.’
Enya wanted to sob, this the first time she and Jenny had properly shared a cross word like this. She felt fatigue prod her in the ribs and knew that when she returned to the solace of her mattress, despite the excitement that had hijacked her night, she would have no trouble in nodding off. She was sick of being in the middle of so much drama at the Sutherlands’ house and now inside her own, it was exhausting.
Jenny wasn’t done. ‘I mean, honestly, who the hell meets someone and wants to marry them in a few weeks? Who does that? It can’t be real, can it? No one falls instantly like that, not in real life. It’s not possible!’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘Do you?’ the woman countered.
‘Jen! Are you coming?’ Phil called to his wife, who gave a heavy sigh of disapproval as she left.
Enya, alone now, battle-weary and entirely sick of being on the receiving end of those judgemental tuts, sat back down and picked up her mug of tea, picturing Dominic as he’d sat at the table opposite her.
‘I don’t know – is the answer, Jen. I didn’t believe it. When it comes to Aiden and Iris, who know so little of life, I just don’t know. But when I think about how I’ve felt in recent times, I’m thinking that maybe it’s entirely possible. Not that I can do a bloody thing about it!’
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was Sunday, the day Enya usually tackled specific jobs, like mowing the small rectangle of rear lawn, wiping down the windowsills, cleaning the car. All of these, for no legitimate reason, felt like Sunday jobs, but after the disastrous night she had just spent, despite getting a full six hours of sleep post the impromptu tea party, she was without the energy for much.
With the French doors open, the hanging baskets and planters watered and birdsong filling the garden, she took a moment to sit in the lounge, enjoying the cool air as the sun was yet to work its way around to the front. Yet not even this idyllic tableau could pierce the liquid distress that filled her stomach and rose up into her throat. It felt cruel to have been briefly gifted the company of her neighbours, and for things to have felt partially healed between her and Jenny, only for it all to be snatched away. She could only imagine the chatter across the fence, the shaking heads, the muttered commentary. But rather than hiding, wary and guilt-ridden, what swirled in her veins was a lot closer to anger.
She’d had enough.
