‘Welcome to KFC. May I take your order?’ The man’s voice cut through the moment.
‘Thank you, yes. We’d like some chicken.’ The moment she said it, she knew it was going to make Remy laugh. And not just a little laugh, but that nose-snorting kind of hysteria when something was so ridiculous. It set her off too, and she did her best to take a deep breath and remain composed. ‘I’m sorry!’ she managed, wheezing with her hand on her chest. ‘I just need a minute!’ Ashleigh howled her laughter and couldn’t look at her sister directly, knowing it would only make her laugh harder. Remy leaned forward in thefront seat, her mop of curls spilling over her legs. Hair that looked quite beautiful, she thought. On Remy.
‘Thank you, yes. We’d like some chicken!’ Remy repeated, the funniest thing, it seemed, she’d ever heard!
‘Well, you’re in the right place!’ The man, thankfully, had a sense of humour.
‘Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry. My sister is from London, and she doesn’t get out much,’ Remy yelled, doing her best to compose herself, before leaning further across her lap, and shouting their order into the speaker, speaking with such fluency it was like she’d learned another language. Ashleigh thought of Elaine and Dickie, who liked to impress with their command of French and Italian. She doubted they’d be impressed with her sister’s impressive chicken-speak.
‘Is that everything?’ the man asked, after Remy had recounted the long and convoluted order.
‘Hang on a sec!’ Remy sat back and counted on her fingers, as she named members of the family, ‘Mum, Dad, Midge, Soph, Bertie, Harper, Evie ...’ Checking she hadn’t forgotten anyone.
‘Sides?’ came the voice from the wonky pole.
‘I’m sorry?’ Ashleigh pushed her straight blonde hair behind her ears as though this might help her understanding.
‘Sides?’ the man repeated.
‘I’m not sure!’
‘You’re such a dipstick!’ Remy laughed, which set her off again, that word ... it had been an age since she’d heard it. Remy leaned forward with her arms over her head now, laughing and hiding.
‘Remy! Don’t leave me hanging. Help me out here!’ she giggled.
‘Corn? Beans?’ the man asked.
‘Yes, corn beans would be lovely,’ she replied as politely as she could.
Remy bashed the dashboard with her flattened palm, wheezing her laughter.
‘What?’ Ashleigh managed.
‘It’s cornorbeans!’ she practically shouted.
‘Oh, right! Corn.’
‘No! Beans!’ Remy shouted again.
‘Oh God! I am so sorry! Just beans.’ Ashleigh was laughing so hard, her tears sprang.
‘And to drink?’ The man, sounded, understandably, like he was beginning to lose his patience.
‘I don’t know!’ Ashleigh was struggling through her hysterics. She turned to her sister. ‘What drink?’
‘Lemonade? Fanta? Coke?’ the man prompted.
‘Oh, okay ... Fanta, please.’ She knew the answer to this one, having heard the kids ask for it.
‘Sorry,’ the man boomed. ‘We are out of Fanta.’
This was the final straw. Remy shrieked, ‘Ash! I’m going to wet myself!’
With her head on the steering wheel, she fought for breath. It happened like this sometimes, rarely, but it happened, these moments when she let a little laughter out and a whole rush of happy came tumbling after, as if it had been lurking there in the crevices of her mind, just waiting. And only in acknowledging the release did she understand how tightly she was wound, and how much she kept in. It was like being a teenager again, and with it came a freedom, a lightness of being that was rare and precious, reminding her how she used to be, before she felt the weight of the St. Jude’s blazer on her shoulders. It was as if her worries took flight, spiralling high into the sky overhead, and she gladly watched them go. In the immediate aftermath of such release she felt enthused, optimistic even, that everything would work out. She and Guy would talk, regroup. She and Archie would iron out the kinks, andthings with Evie would get easier, she was sure. It used to feel this way when her mum tucked her in before sleep, as she lay in the little bed opposite her sister.
‘Night night, little doves, sweet dreams ...’
And they were – her dreams sweet, her sleep deep, as she sank down into the sheets feeling warm and happy. Until that word ‘exam’ was first mooted and she felt the threads of her joy slowly unravelling.
