“Here, look, I’ve got something to show you.”
Gill leads me into the lounge and lifts a multi-coloured Kodak envelope from the coffee table. She tosses the negative strips in their plastic covers onto the surface of the table and draws out a wad of printed photos.
“A load of pics from the Bindura show last month,” she says, rapidly shuffling each photo from front to back. “I won’t bore you with them. I rode Georgie van Driel’s horse and that silly chestnut mare that Patty Kilmer owns in the B Grade and neither of them got past the first round, but here’s what I wanted to show you. Look. Tiffany’s restaurant. You know we went there for Nathan’s birthday back in January?”
The first one was taken in the hotel lobby – Gill, Moira and Nathan bunched together. Gill’s dazzlingly pretty in a short black dress and her suede black court shoes; Moira is elegant in her long, burgundy dress. I have never seen her in heels like that and didn’t know she owned any. Nathan’s wearing a black, or maybe dark grey, suit. The jacket is open to reveal a white shirt, black tie and a waistcoat. My goodness. I’m going to start giggling because this isn’t something I’d ever contemplated either. Stop. Don’t. I pull a stupid face and partly turn my head away, not least because of the disturbing fact that he’s leaning on a walking stick in the photo and I’ve never seen it around the house.
Gill flicks another one over and there are the four of them at their table, champagne flutes aloft, the table top strewn with the remains of a meal. In this one, both Charles and Nathan have discarded their jackets but not the waistcoats or ties.
“Persuaded the resident pianist to take that one,” she says. “It was just the best time ever. It was how it should be, Tessa. The four of us as a proper family. I just wish to God this bloody war would end so that this will be our future too.”
There are a few more, taken in the restaurant by each in turn – Gill, Moira and Charles; Gill, Charles and Nathan; Moira, Gill and Nathan again. Then one of the two men back here in the lounge, just about where we’re standing now, toasting the camera with glasses of red wine, in shirts and trousers only.
“Some of these need to go on the wall in the hallway, Gill. To mark the occasion and get some up there in which he’s actually looking at the camera.”
She stuffs the photos and the negatives back into the envelope.
“You’re damned right the best ones will end up in the gallery. Okay, let’s get out there and lunge this horse of yours.”
Charles and Nathan are in the driveway unloading some bags of cement from the back of the pick-up. There are several white hard hats, a coil of plastic ducting and a small cable drum on the vehicle as well.
“Tessa, my darling!” booms Charles. “We missed you yesterday, girl. First time ever you’ve not been at Gilly’s party I think?”
They drop one of the bags on top of another one that’s already in the wheelbarrow alongside the truck with a dull thump. Charles wipes his hands on his jeans and extends them to me. Nathan steps back and leans an elbow on the side of the pick-up, massaging his right thigh.
Gripping the offered hands, I confess, “You have no idea how much I wanted to be here. I had no choice, unfortunately. Danny’s cousin got married yesterday. It was quite an affair, at the Anglican Cathedral, and we all went to Meikles Hotel after. It was a good bash, but I was very bleak that I had to miss yours.”
“Well, you’ve got your own things to do, sweetheart, and someone else in your life now who deserves all of your attention because he’s special to you, lucky boy. And you deserve to have a gallant young man to take you out and show you off. We like him, by the way. You have our approval.”
“I do consider myself very lucky indeed to have him and you’re only echoing my parents’ delight. He scores very highly with them.”
He chortles his satisfaction and Gill goes, “Yay! Tessa’s in love!” and I’m being all pleased with myself and choosing phrases to use when telling Danny that he’s acceptable to everyone who matters to me.
“Charles?”
Nathan’s moved back round to the tail gate. He points at the three remaining cement bags on the bed of the truck.
“You wanted to get the slab repairs done today and it’s already eleven-thirty. I’ve told Jed Martins I’ll meet him at the Ambassador at six-thirty. I’ve got things to do too.”
“Woo hoo, listen to you!” crows Gill, clapping her hands. “Excellent! Well come on, boys. Chop, chop. We’ll leave you to your work.”
Charles salutes me and backs up towards the truck, the clown as always, then says to Nathan, “Right, boss. Next bag. Ready? So who all’s going to the Ambassador?”
I don’t hear his response because Gill’s telling me about the new horse coming for schooling next week and then we’re out of earshot.