‘What’s hungry got to do with it? We have supper at five! It’s not about being hungry, it’s about being supper time, about routine and sticking to it!’
Remy suppressed a laugh.
‘Right.’ Ashleigh clapped and looked at her mother, as if expecting the predictable sigh of disappointment, the look of irritation and the general air of a balloon deflating fast as she took a pin to the celebrations. Remy knew this couldn’t be easy, as if Ashleigh’s presence, however long she was here for, was never enough. She understood it was probably the last thing her sister needed, on top of having a lot to deal with at work and, she suspected, at home. ‘I think we should hit the road. The M3 and M25 will probably be nightmares, and Evie has school tomorrow.’
‘Oh, that’s such a shame.’ Her mum, right on cue, hung her head, mouth turned down a little, shoulders slumped.
Remy offered her sister a wink of understanding; she knew more than most what it felt like to be a source of disappointment.
‘Come and give your nan a hug.’ Ruthie opened her arms.
Evie leapt from the rug and embraced Ruthie with a fierceness that was as tender as it was telling. Remy watched Ashleigh look away, aware of her words earlier and how she sometimes felt a little stuck.
‘I’ll see you very soon, littlest dove,’ her mum whispered to Evie with obvious emotion.
Remy smiled to hear the words of affection; it spoke volumes, letting her niece know that they might not see her all the time, but she was very much part of the fold.
It was a reminder to Remy that no matter what happened, or how much they might irritate each other or upset the balance of a gathering, they were still family, forever connected.
Ashleigh
Ashleigh smiled as she navigated the roads of West London, where the traffic, at this time of night, was manageable. It made her laugh to think of her dad, opening his birthday gift, and extolling the merits of his fifty-pence shower gel. She did the maths in her head and made a mental note to next year go to Aldi and get him almost a hundred bottles for about the same money. It was always hard leaving, her mum’s expression one of disappointment, whether she was there for an hour, a week, a month. It was never enough, leaving her with a new branch growing from the cold kernel of failure in the pit of her stomach.
This, she knew, came from a place of love. Theylovedher, and they loved her being near them.Golden, that was what Remy hadsaid, not that this made dealing with the aftermath any easier. She was looking forward to getting home, to smoothing things over with Archie after last night’s supper-time debacle. Sex, she decided, would be nice, sex and wine, after she’d made him chuckle with an embellished account of their day:Everyone was up in arms! We had to go forage for KFC! And then Dad was enquiring after his supper when he’d not long had lunch ...She felt a frisson of excitement at the prospect of the evening ahead, thankful that her husband still had that effect on her after all this time.
It had been a long day, but a lovely one. Those hilarious moments ordering chicken in the car with Remy. To see her after any time apart meant they built a bridge, and topped up their love, which would see them through to the next visit. The very best part of her trip, however, was spending time with Evie. There had been moments throughout the day, getting lost in the pantomime of life with her family, when it had felt like a breakthrough. Watching her daughter interact so easily with her cousins, and not a cartoon in sight. She smiled now to think of it.
‘I liked today, Mummy.’
Her daughter interrupted her thoughts. Ashleigh adjusted the rear-view mirror and framed her daughter, wanting to capture this second like a photograph. It was easy, relaxed, because Ashleigh let herselfbehavedifferently andfeeldifferently. Distracted by the mayhem, the noise, she didn’t carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, wasn’t, in those moments, worrying about Guy or the business or Ada or supper or winning her place at a table she felt she had no right to be at, or any of the other paper cuts of concern that occupied large chunks of her brain. It was that feeling of freedom and lightness that had settled over her after laughing so hard.
Yes, it had on balance been wonderful, but she’d missed Archie too, missed him driving and allowing her to doze as she liked to on a long journey, missed his quips about Midge, who he privatelyreferred to as Arnie on account of his very macho career and his good-looking, bare-chested, slight Terminator vibes. Missed the post-visit dissection, where they would laugh over her mother’s slightly manic air, her burbled clichés, as she spoke in riddles and platitudes and threw salt over her shoulder and knocked on wood and crossed her heart and pressed her hands together in prayer to keep her family safe. And Ashleigh didn’t doubt Archie would have loved her dad’s dire summary of her gift. She hated having to admit to her folks that, yet again, Archie wasn’t in attendance because of a work thing. She was determined to find a way back to him, to find a way back to being ‘them’, remembering when they had laughed as long and loudly as she and Remy had earlier, before life had placed her on a busy path that meant they conversed in short snaps as one ate breakfast and the other rushed out of the door. It wasn’t good enough.
Yes, she missed him and would tell him so. He always found her parents’ ways amusing and it left her feeling a little torn, as she did too, but her judgement came from a place of affection, and she wasn’t sure he had the same right to comment as she and Remy. Her sister’s words about his aloofness she’d analyse over the next few days. To have her husband and twin closer would be nice, no doubt. Trouble was, they were all a little late out of the gate to make the necessary changes, should have worked harder when they’d first met. And maybe it was impossible to have that shared, easy closeness, and still keep her life compartmentalised. One thing was for sure, she was too tired to think it through tonight.
‘I liked today too, very much.’
‘Grandad Den gave me this!’ Evie peeled the five-pound note from her pocket and waved it in the air, her face split with delight.
‘Lucky girl.’ It made her smile too. Her parents never really gave her money, didn’t need to. She remembered her grandad givingher a fifty-pence piece and the joy of holding it in her palm. This clearly felt the same, albeit with a note. That was inflation for you.
‘What are you going to buy with it?’
‘Sweets!’ Evie answered without hesitation.
‘And toothpaste, to brush off all that sugar when you’ve eaten them!’ she joked.
‘Can you read to me tonight, Mum?’
This in itself was an honour. It was always Archie’s job or Marguerite’s if Ashleigh was late home. It had become a habit, part of Evie’s routine. Grabbing a book and calling for her dad to read her to sleep. It filled Ashleigh with a potent mixture of joy and sadness, delighted to have been asked, and yet distraught at the novelty of it.
‘I’d really, really love to.’ She swallowed the lump in her throat, as the car pulled into the gates of their palatial home in Clarendon Road. ‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’
Ashleigh put the key in the door and tutted to see Archie’s brogues in the middle of the hall where anyone could trip over them. So this was what he got up to when he had the house to himself for a few hours, flagrant shoe flinging! There were worse things. She smiled, knowing he’d probably eaten croissants for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
‘Can I get a drink?’ Evie followed her into the kitchen.
‘Course you can.’ She switched on the lamp that filled the room with just the right level of glow for this time of night, as her daughter ran the cold tap and filled her beaker. Ashleigh walked towards the den, where the flicker of the TV screen sent turquoise and white lights to dance on the ceiling of the hallway.
