The skies had darkened over Hyde Park and the picnickers were well on the way to drunkenness now, a most dangerous destination for this particular combination of women. Sissy had tried not to have too much Prosecco at first, having never been much of a drinker, but Renée kept insisting on filling up her glass, and what with all the tension she had eventually stopped objecting. She was relieved nothing serious had kicked off between anyone, although as the evening continued it was an increasing possibility, with Siobhan in particular threatening to cross into danger zones – she’d kept moaning on about her boyfriend Matt, how he would never commit, and how the others were so lucky to have husbands, and then she’d said, ‘Oh, sorry, Sissy,’ and Sissy could have throttled her. Natasha seemed pretty uptight too, which was unlike her, normally everything was totally marvellous in her world, but she seemed to have the hump with both Juliette and Renée for some reason. And of course Juliette and Renée didn’t get on and hadn’t for years, so there was that to deal with too. Only Camilla was behaving normally, now she’d got over the presence of shop-bought scotch eggs and the absence of sufficient picnic chairs. Honestly, thought Sissy, this is the last time we should do this, it’s just too stressful – we’ve got to stop living in the past, we’ve all got our own lives now. She looked out towards The Serpentine and wondered idly whether it was a river or a lake, and what it was like to swim in. She knew people did but it looked dirty to her, unappealing.
‘Sissy,’ said Natasha, obviously not for the first time; her tone was the one Sissy took with her own children the fourth time of asking. ‘Would you like some cheesecake?’
‘Oh, sorry, Natasha, no thanks, I’m fine,’ said Sissy. ‘I’m going to have to think about going soon, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’
‘Oh, come on, Sissy,’ said Siobhan, helping herself to another of her profiteroles. ‘Why don’t you just let your hair down for a change? You’ve got to start enjoying yourself again. It would do you good.’
‘Siobhan, shush,’ replied Renée. ‘Don’t be so bloody insensitive.’
‘Yeah, well, we can’t all pussy-foot round her for ever, it’s not good for her. And at least she’s had a husband,’ said Siobhan, and she’d obviously had far too much wine now, and not just down her trousers. ‘No-one’s ever wanted to marry me.’
Everyone was silent for a moment, stunned.
‘Well, I’m not surprised with that attitude,’ said Renée in the end. ‘You are quite possibly the most selfish person I know.’
‘I hardly think so,’ said Siobhan, and her tone was more sober suddenly. ‘I think we all know Juliette’s married to the person who wins that prize.’
‘Siobhan, shut up,’ said Natasha. Her tone brightened, like the school nurse with a sickly child. ‘Now, who’s going to have this last piece of cheesecake? It’s a shame to waste it.’
‘Yeah, well, Sissy would still have a husband if it wasn’t for Stephen, wouldn’t she?’ said Siobhan, as though Natasha hadn’t spoken, and as she said it she tried to stop herself but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate, and she knew she really had gone too far this time.
There were at least three involuntary intakes of breath, and then there seemed to be no breathing at all, and nobody said anything for long empty seconds that even the irrepressible Michael Bublé failed to fill. Sissy downed the rest of her glass in one, and then she stared out at the water again, and it lay still, seemingly breathless too, and she wondered whether everything was slowly dying in her world, and she tried to work out what would be the quickest way to get home, so she could pay off the babysitter and go straight upstairs and hide under her duvet, and never come out again.