Monty told Rowan he’d seen me – ‘Yeah, just said you were with one of the girls’ – and I felt a jumble of relief and disappointment that he hadn’t told Rowan everything. It maybe wouldn’t have hurt him to know he wasn’t the only one having sleepovers with new friends. ‘He always says he can’t tell the difference between them though,’ he added, and laughed along. I was facing away from him while he talked, ferreting through drawers to find a pair of skinny jeans that didn’t stink of cigarette smoke (Lily) or regret (Fred, who I’d seen another three times in the last week, and slept with another twice). In the end I turned around, threw my arms in the air and announced, ‘I’ll just wear a dress.’
Rowan moved towards the small chest at the bottom of the bed. ‘Black tights or natural?’
I smiled. See, he knows everything … ‘Black.’ But then a memory hit. ‘Actually, none.’
‘You’ll go with trousers?’
‘Nope. Bare.’ The dress dropped down over my thighs and into place, quickly enough for me to catch an expression of surprise. ‘What?’
‘You never do that.’
‘Well …’ I smoothed the fabric out on a pale blue number that would look good with the late afternoon tea we were having. ‘Maybe I can still surprise you.’
He crossed the room and caught me by the elbow, then pulled me closer for a kiss. ‘Maybe I’m not all that keen on surprises.’
Well, I thought, maybe that’s just tough luck …
*
The tea rooms were prim and proper and everything I’d expected from Rowan’s parents. They were sitting uncharacteristically close when we arrived, like a real-life couple. But they shot apart when they saw us – as though they’d been caught doing something unseemly – and one after the other they pulled Rowan into a hug to greet him.
Gregory turned his attention to me soon after – ‘Edith, fantastic dress’ – before dropping back into his seat.
Penny hugged me but somehow managed to make the gesture a distanced one – ‘Edith, so lovely you’re here this time’ – which I took to be a jibe about my absence during Rowan’s trip home, like I should follow wherever he led.
I flashed her a tight smile and sat down. I crossed my legs then and, noting Penny’s glance, I suddenly felt desperately self-conscious at having them on show at all. I pushed out a deep breath through my nose and thought of Fred – ‘These legs, Edi, I’m telling you’ – and her friendship (is that what we’re calling it?), her compassion towards my least favourite parts. I ran a hand down my own thigh as though brushing something away, then I reached across to Rowan’s clasped hands and grabbed a hold of one.
‘Penny, you’re looking so well. New hairstyle?’
‘No.’ She primped her hair one side then the other. ‘But thank you, Edith. Your hair looks …’ She trailed off, tilted her head one side and then the other. ‘Effortlessly chic.’
‘Well, certainly effortless,’ I joked. ‘I spent so long picking out the dress that I didn’t leave enough time for the hair. A friend of mine is trying to get me into these messy buns—’
‘Your natural wave suits you. Classy.’ She leaned forward to reach for a teacup. ‘You and my Rowan make quite the picture-perfect couple when you’re dolled up like this.’ I noted the ownership – my Rowan; not ours – as though I’d snatched something away from her alone. When she put the cup back in place she smiled, looked at Rowan, raised an eyebrow and then looked back at me. ‘Rowan tells us that you’re on a sort of break?’
‘Penny!’
‘Christ, Mum.’
I turned to face Rowan. ‘A break?’
‘You know what I mean, Edi, we … you know, the deal.’ He stretched his eyes in urgency. ‘I told Mum and Dad we were a bit open-ended at the minute, to give us a break from wedding planning, too, and to let us both, I don’t know, breathe a bit or something.’ He smiled, like he’d rescued the situation – but he’d actually made things a bit bloody worse. Breathe? I parroted. I’m stifling you?
‘Of course.’ I looked back at his parents and tried to relax my expression into something they might believe, then held my left hand up and flashed the ring. ‘Still very much engaged. But we’re both young, as you’ve pointed out yourselves, and there’s no need to rush into a wedding, is there? Not when we can enjoy being engaged for a bit beforehand.’
Penny’s own expression relaxed – as much as it possibly could. ‘Well, now that’s settled. I was worried we’d have to cancel the announcements and all sorts.’ She said it like it would be a real travesty and her worries became a small weight sitting in my lap. ‘Everyone knows and is delighted, of course. But we’ll save that talk for another time, perhaps?’ She looked at Rowan, who nodded. ‘Now, are you two hungry? We’ve only ordered two pots of tea so far. Gregory, why don’t you take Rowan up to choose something for us all? I’m sure Edith trusts him to choose for her as well.’
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. But I thought – shouted, internally: No. I don’t.
‘Edith, are you okay with Rowan choosing?’ Gregory asked, and I wondered whether this common courtesy had been filtered out in the genetics somewhere on the way to Rowan; his mother’s influence, perhaps.
‘Of course. Penny and I can catch up.’
When Rowan and his dad had disappeared out of earshot, though, I realised this private catch-up had been exactly what she’d wanted. Penny shifted forward in her seat to lessen the distance between us and, in a voice notably quieter than before, asked how I was.
‘I’m well, thank you. Work is—’
‘Edith, I’m not asking about your livelihood. I’m more interested in your relationship with my son.’ She looked past me, and I thought she must be checking where Rowan and Gregory were in the queue. ‘This break. His idea, was it?’ She spoke with a certainty that unnerved me.
‘It was but …’
‘But you’re fine with it?’ I hadn’t even told the lie and she already didn’t believe it. She leaned back a little but kept her voice hushed. ‘Gregory has been a good husband, Edith, I won’t pretend otherwise. A good provider; there when I needed him to be through the most serious matters in life. But …’ She hesitated, then looked up and swallowed hard before continuing, ‘Loyalty hasn’t been his forte throughout our marriage.’
‘Oh.’ I felt my body deflate around me as I sank back in the chair. ‘Oh, I … Penny, I’m—’
She held up a hand. ‘Don’t be sorry, Edith, it was my choice. But given my time again …’ She petered out and, rather than looking behind me, seemed to find a distraction in the distance somewhere. She smiled then, in the most genuine way I’d ever seen her manage. ‘Given my time again, with the advice of someone who had lived experience, I’m not sure I’d make the same decisions. Which I suppose is what everyone my age says about everything they’ve done.’ There was a light laugh as she leaned back in her seat. ‘It’s something that happens when you’re old.’
‘Nonsense.’ I dismissed her self-deprecation in a kneejerk reaction and she looked surprised. ‘You aren’t old, Penny.’
She looked me up and down. ‘Maybe it’s just that you’re so beautiful, young.’
I felt my cheeks bloom into small roses. Penny had been kind, accepting when I was younger. But the longer Rowan and I were together, the more distance there was carved between me and his mother. People had told me it was normal and I’d accepted it without question. But this kindness from woman to woman, I thought, this felt much more normal now.
‘Thank you, Penny. I appreciate the honesty, and—’
‘I’ve always liked you, Edith.’ I’d appreciate finishing a sentence, too, I thought. But the compliment stunned me quiet. ‘You’ve got … I don’t know, something about you. Grit. Gumption. Don’t let anyone dilute that down, will you?’
I held her look for a second. I was sure something passed between us. Some older-woman wisdom, trickling down into the next generation about to make their mistakes. ‘I won’t.’ Rowan dropped hard in the seat next to me with a landing that made me jump. I added, ‘I promise,’ to Penny who nodded, before letting the men overtake the conversation.
‘Promise what?’ Rowan asked.
‘I was asking Edith whether she’s going to turn into one of these hideous brides that lets the wedding become her main focus in life.’ Her detached tone was back then, and I realised whatever intimacy we shared had been stashed away – for safekeeping, though, where no one could try to change what had been said.
I smiled. ‘And I promised that I won’t be that woman.’