9 P.M. – 10 P.M.
‘Dad?’
I turn my attention away from Izzy. ‘Yes, Josh?’
‘Sorry to interrupt. Aunt Izzy, can I borrow Dad for a minute?’
‘Sure. And make him take something for that migraine. He looks terrible.’
‘Shall we go to your shed?’ Josh suggests.
As I turn to follow him, I see Amy talking to Rob and Max, and notice that although Max seems to be listening, he’s actually staring over their shoulders at something or someone. I follow his eyes and see that they’re fixed on Livia, who is disappearing into the marquee. The way he’s looking at her makes me pause, throws my mind off balance. What is going on with Livia and Max?
‘Are you coming, Dad?’
We push our way into the shed. Josh leans back against the workbench, his arms folded in front of him. I remember now that I’m meant to have found a photo of the ring to give Livia.
‘I didn’t find one,’ I say.
‘What?’
‘A photo.’
He takes a really deep breath. ‘Sorry Dad, but I’m not going.’
‘Not going where?’ I say. Does he really think that I want him to go and pick up the ring, even though the shop is shut?
‘To New York.’
‘New York?’
‘Yes. I don’t want to take up my internship.’
It’s so far removed from what I thought he was going to say that it takes me a moment to catch up.
‘Right,’ I say. ‘OK.’
He pushes away from the bench and begins pacing up and down. ‘I know you must be disappointed. And I know my reason for not going is a bit pathetic. The thing is, I love Amy and I don’t want to be apart from her for a year. It’s been hard enough these last six months with me in Bristol and her in Exeter.’ He gives an embarrassed laugh. ‘I think she’s the one, Dad, I really do. I know I’m only twenty-two – well, nearly twenty-three – and I haven’t known her very long, but there’s something about Amy—’
‘Josh,’ I say, stopping him. ‘It’s fine. It’s not a problem. If you don’t want to go to New York, don’t go.’
He stares, relief washing over his face. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ I swallow painfully. ‘Life’s too short. Just do what makes you happy.’
He shakes his head slowly. ‘You wouldn’t believe how worried I’ve been about telling you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you found me the internship.’
‘That doesn’t mean you have to take it.’
He runs a hand through his hair. ‘I must seem so ungrateful.’
‘Not at all.’ A wave of exhaustion comes over me. ‘Look, can we talk about this later? I don’t know – maybe Bill can switch your internship to London – I presume that’s where you want to be, near Amy?’
‘Yes. Marnie is with me on this one, by the way. She says it’s not worth going abroad if I spend most of my time there being miserable.’
Marnie. ‘Let’s talk tomorrow,’ I say. ‘We’d better get back out there.’
‘I need to go and find Amy. She thinks you’re annoyed with her, that you think it’s her fault I don’t want to go to New York.’
‘Then please tell her I’m not.’
He looks at me curiously. ‘So why were you off with her when she arrived, if you didn’t know?’
‘It’s this migraine, that’s all.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’ He comes over and gives me an unexpected hug. ‘You really are the best.’
He leaves and I stand there, trying to process what he just told me. It seems so unimportant compared to Marnie. Would I really have been disappointed – bitter, even – if he’d told me any day before today that he wasn’t taking up the internship? Probably.
I leave my shed. I’m desperate to know what time it is, but for the first time tonight, I can’t face checking my phone. Amy arrived around eight thirty-five, that I know. Then I was stopped by Nelson, then I spoke to another couple of people, got them a drink, made sure Jess was alright, got her and Kirin a drink – all that must have taken thirty minutes. Then Izzy cornered me, for at least ten minutes, then Josh for another ten. It must be around half-past nine. In the world I inhabited before, Marnie would have arrived. I’d have got her text to say she was at the gate, I’d have met her at the side door and after a quick, secret hug, I’d have taken the box from under the table and helped her into it. And now, right now, we’d all be down on the terrace.
I walk across the lawn, vaguely aware of Livia disappearing into the house with Max. I keep my eyes fixed ahead so that I don’t get ambushed by people wanting to chat, and when I get to the top of the steps, I pause. In my mind, I see everyone gathered on the terrace below, waiting for Livia to open her present. I’m standing next to her and as she bends to open the box, Marnie springs out. Everyone is laughing and exclaiming and Livia, after hugging Marnie until they are both in tears, throws her arms around me and tells me it’s the best present ever. I see everything. And then I see nothing.
Except – someone is coming in the side gate, pushing it slowly open. My heart starts racing, just as it did when Amy rang on the doorbell. Don’t get your hopes up, I tell myself. You’ll only be disappointed. But I’m already running down the steps and across the terrace.
I get to the gate and jerk at it, the wood sticking as I pull it open. And then I stop. Because it’s not Marnie. My body slumps against the wooden panels. I bite down hard on the inside of my mouth until I taste blood, and stare at an older woman I’ve never seen before.
‘Hello, Adam,’ she says and, recognising her voice, I realise that I’m looking at Livia’s mother.
‘Patricia,’ I say dully.
‘I received your letter.’ She waits for me to say something. ‘And an invitation for tonight,’ she says when I don’t respond. ‘I’d like to see Livia, if that’s all right.’
A wave of panic sweeps through me. Is this something else I’ve got wrong? What if Livia doesn’t want to see her mother, not here, not now, not at her party? And what if her mother hasn’t come to make peace, but to cause more trouble?
She tries again. ‘I won’t stay long; I have a car waiting for me.’
‘I don’t want any trouble,’ I say, finding my voice. ‘It’s a special day for Livia.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘No, you don’t know,’ I say roughly. ‘This party is to make up for the wedding she never had.’
Her face flushes. ‘I wish things could have been different.’
‘So why are they now?’
She holds my gaze. ‘Her father died a few months back.’
She doesn’t say anything more but it’s enough. Livia’s father was a domineering bully and when I think about it now, he was the one who told Livia they didn’t want anything more to do with her. Maybe her mother didn’t have a choice. I look at her more closely. It’s not surprising I didn’t recognise her. Her hair was always pulled back in a severe bun, now it hangs to her shoulders in soft waves.
‘I’m not sure today’s the right time to tell her,’ I say, wishing more than ever that I hadn’t written that letter.
‘I’d still like to see her,’ she says, standing her ground. ‘Josh and Marnie too, just to say hello. Has Marnie arrived yet?’