Chapter 17: Banana Bread
Under normal circumstances, Ari was a meticulous packer. Years of living in government-funded shitholes had seen to that. You never knew when you might have to leave, never knew what you might need to take or have. Her suitcases had become an art-form of organised preparation, with sections for clothes, make-up, toiletries and what Sebastian sneeringly called her ‘end of the world prep’. It was a zipped and waterproof red bag that contained painkillers, antihistamines, disinfectant and antiseptics, as well as bandages and extra travel bottles of soap, shampoo and washing-up liquid, and Ari never went anywhere without it.
“Honestly, it’s a wedding,” he would say whenever he saw the red pack being tucked carefully into Ari’s suitcase. “Valium and pep pills. That’s all you need.”
Ari remained firm, however. Her teenage years living alone had served her well. You never knew when you might need to disinfect a new room, play parent to yourself and treat an injury, or wash your socks in a sink. She found comfort in being prepared for all circumstances — it felt easier when she had basic necessities with her at all times.
She thought Luis understood. He never rolled his eyes at her emergency supplies or laughed at her water purification tablets. Instead, he would pat her on the back and shake his head in amazement at her packing skills.
“You can never find Reine’s violin when she needs it, still don’t know what day your recycling men come and have kitchen cupboards so messy they make me want to cry, and yet your suitcases are always works of art,” he told her. “You’re an enigma sometimes, Ari. You really are.”
Tonight, there was nothing enigmatic about Ari’s packing. She walked hurriedly from room to room, throwing things intothe open cases on her bed and frantically searching out items in the cupboards and drawers.
She needed to get out of this place, out of this family and out of this damned wedding. She would have Sebastian refund Marnie’s cheque and tear up their contract — actually, no, Ari thought, stopping to take a deep breath. She would do that herself. There would be a malicious satisfaction in ripping Tom and Sasha’s names into oblivion — a painful kind of release in throwing the business of their wedding back in their privileged and self-satisfied faces. She would go back to London and pretend this whole farce had never happened. She would move on. She would thrive. She would forget.
She had to forget.
“Have you got Margaret Thutcher?” she asked Reine absently, still flinging clothes into her case. “Thank God I didn’t unpack your bag. Go and get it, Reine. Quick as you can.”
“No.”
“Make sure you get your toothbrush from the bathroom, and your book from the bedside table too.”
“No.”
“And when you’ve done that, I’ll get you dressed in some clothes... we’ll drive to the airport. Get the first flight out we can and—” Ari stopped, turning to Reine slowly. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”
Ari’s daughter was standing with her arms crossed, her bunny clutched to her chest. Her face was set into determined lines, her eyes dark and full of challenge. Ari stared at Reine, suddenly struck by the fact that in that moment, she looked almost entirely like Marnie. It was disconcerting and almost terrifying.
“I mean no,” Reine said again, and she stamped her foot for effect. “I’m not going anywhere, Mummy.”
Ari’s mouth dropped open. In seven years, Reine had never once spoken back to her.
“Right now, I cannot deal with this.” Ari stopped, taking a deep breath. “Young lady, you need to go and get your things. Right now.”
“No.” Reine stamped her foot again. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are,” Ari argued. “I am your mother, and I know what’s best for us. And right now, there are people downstairs who arenotthe best for us.”
“Like who?” Reine challenged. “You mean my father?”
Ari inhaled sharply, dropping to the bed. She stared at Reine, deciding to be honest.
“Yes,” she told her. “Your father. He’s not good for us, baby.”
Reine stared back at her. “You mean he’s not good for you,” she retorted. “But he might be good for me.”
At that, all the breath seemed to leave Ari’s body, and her eyes filled with tears. “Reine—”
“Reine, go with Uncle Sebbie.” Luis’s voice sounded through the room, and Ari watched as Reine looked towards him.
“I’m not leaving, Tío Luis,” she said. “I want more time with him.”
“We’re not going to make you leave, Reine,” Luis replied good-naturedly. He walked towards her, picking the girl up and cuddling her to him. “But we think that, just for tonight, you should sleep in our room. That way we can keep an eye on you and Margaret Thutcher,” he winked at the girl, “make sure the two of you don’t go on anymore midnight walks.”
“Yes, come on, Reine,” Sebastian stepped forward, taking her from Luis’s arms. “I snaffled a bottle of port from the stash downstairs and downloaded a few episodes ofGreat British Bake Offonto my iPad. Let’s go and make a night of it.”
“You can’t watchBake Offwithout me!” Luis said indignantly.
