‘Maybe use some mouthwash too!’
Eventually, we leave the house via the deck and through the garden gate, strolling along the shoreline towards the boathouse. As we draw closer, we stop to chat to various friends and neighbours. It might be my imagination, but everyone we talk to seems to be a little off with me, focusing all their attention and conversation on Nathan and virtually ignoring any comments I make. Or am I simply being paranoid? Nathan hasn’t lived in Ashridge as long as I have, but I swear he knows more people than I do. It helps that he regularly donates to local good causes and makes time to personally hand over the cheques. Nathan’s known locally as an all-round good guy. Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe I’m just being a little oversensitive.
‘Fiona!’ I turn to see Kelly waving from behind the cake stall. She’s with Sonny, who’s helping her to arrange cupcakes onto patterned china plates. She looks like a pre-Raphaelite painting in a long flowered dress, her blonde curls tumbling down her back.
Nathan and I walk over and give her a hug.
‘Hey, Sonny, how are you?’ I ask. ‘You seem to have grown again.’ I groan inwardly, feeling like that’s such a lame thing to say to an eight-year-old boy. I’ve never really been great with kids. Maybe it’s for the best that Nathan doesn’t want any.
‘I’m okay, thanks, Fi. How are you?’
‘I’m fine.’ He’s such a sweet, polite kid.
‘Aren’t you racing today?’ Nathan asks him.
Sonny shakes his head. ‘Ryan is though.’
‘Good for him.’ Nathan nods his approval. ‘The wind’s really getting up now, so it should be a fun race.’
‘Ryan’s racing?’ I ask, surprised. ‘That’s great news, Kelly.’ She’s been terribly worried about Ryan these past few months. The fact that he’s sailing again must be a good sign.
‘I know, I can hardly believe it. He only decided to enter yesterday. It’s a miracle. I’m so pleased.’
‘Everything else okay?’ I ask. She looks decidedly pale and not as happy as her words suggest.
‘Yeah, fine. Just a bit nervous about Ryan’s race.’
‘He’ll be great,’ Nathan says. ‘What’s his time slot?’
‘Eleven fifteen.’
‘We’ll be cheering him on, won’t we, Fi?’
‘Of course.’ I nod.
Nathan puts a hand on Kelly’s arm. ‘I know today must be difficult for you. I’ll be thinking of Mike while I’m out on the water today.’
Kelly bites her lip. ‘That’s so lovely of you, Nathan. Thank you!’ Her eyes glisten for a moment and then she gives herself a shake. ‘Anyway, these cakes aren’t going to eat themselves. Can I interest you in buying some? My stint here only lasts an hour and I’m determined to sell a few at least.’
Nathan pays way over the odds for a box of cupcakes that I help him select, and we promise to meet up in an hour’s time to cheer Ryan on. Kelly says she’ll look after our picnic things, so we continue wandering around the grounds, checking out all the stalls and saying hello to everyone. It’s a beautiful day, despite the wind, and everyone is happy and relaxed. Everyone, that is, apart from me. Although I’m going through the motions, I feel separate from it all. Distant. Excluded.
I greet friends, dismissing their perceived coldness as a symptom of my own insecurity and sensitivity. Instead, I smile and laugh with Oscar-worthy conviction as the dark blot in my chest spreads, weighing down my limbs and slowing my mind. If you asked me to talk about how I’m feeling, I couldn’t even begin to put it all into words. This deep, black dread started long ago, and I’ve managed to keep it contained for years. But recent events have brought everything bubbling to the surface. If I’m not careful, it will spill over and ruin everything. Yet, even as I have that thought, I wonder if there’s actually anything left to ruin.
‘Come on, Fi.’ Nathan takes my arm. ‘Ryan’s race will be starting in a minute. Let’s go down to the clubhouse.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ I smile into his eyes, even as bile creeps up my gullet.
Nathan stops dead and frowns, peering at a spot above my forehead. ‘Is that a grey hair?’
I pat the top of my head. ‘A grey one? I hope not!’
‘Better get yourself down to the hairdressers next week. Looks like you might have got your dad’s genes in the hair department. He went grey early, didn’t he?’
‘I don’t think one grey hair’s anything to worry about,’ I reply. ‘Lots of my friends have them.’
‘Hold still.’ Nathan grips my shoulders to stop me moving. He peers at my head and runs his fingers through my hair, staring. I begin to feel queasy under his scrutiny.
‘Ow!’
